#it's.. really important to me. really really really special

[cavillscurls]

inescapable

clint “freaky tales” x f!reader

Clint always gets what he wants—this time, you’re going to give it to him.

warnings/tags: MDNI. DARK CONTENT. dubious consent, and finely toeing the line of past non-con. stockholm syndrome. implied that reader was given to clint as a debt. clint is a hit man. explicit smut. unprotected piv. breeding/breeding kink. man-handling. choking. multiple orgasms. overstimulation. dacryphilia. pet names (baby, sweetheart, little girl, (2) princess, don’t know what came over me lol). sir kink. lots of praise despite his roughness. not beta’d and hardly proofread. wc: 1.5k

➻ a/n: we obviously know very little about this character thus far, so please, consider all of this au! i genuinely don’t know what this is! i just had the inspiration, and in these trying times, i cannot shy away from it. this is obviously much darker than what i usually write, so if that’s not your forte, no biggie. i’ll see you for the next one. <3

Time is but an allusion to you now. You’re not even quite sure when you lost track of it.

“That’s it. That’s a fucking good girl, fuck.”

Or when your predicament stopped feeling like a punishment and more like freedom. An escape from a life before, one hardly remembered, that brought nothing but pain, and struggle, and loneliness.

God, you were so lonely.

“I know. I know, baby. It’s so much.”

Even when you had it all, you had no one. Surrounded by those you called kin, meant to uphold you, protect you. But when it came down to it, you were just another pawn in the game. An asset. Something to be borrowed and bartered for the right price, or out of sheer, pathetic desperation.

They never cared for you, did they? Not really.

But he does. He wants you. He protects you. And at what cost? Pleasure that, once discovered, you couldn’t give up for the world. You would be lying if you said that, for some time, the obsession didn’t frighten you. Now, it only solidifies that freeing truth: he will never be like them. He will never let you go. You belong to him, and once you accepted it and all the privileges that came with it, you set your soul to rest.

Your brain is numb, nothing but white noise, and you tingle all over. It’s soothing. As is the weight of him—all of him, broad, and sturdy, and smothering—draped over your back and pinning you into the mattress. He’s shoved a pillow under your tummy, the perfect little angle for him to pound the tip of his cock against the deep spot that makes you see stars. His left hand pins one of yours beside your ear, threaded through the knuckles, and the other is wrapped securely around your throat, keeping your chin propped up enough that you don’t suffocate your face into the pillows.

You can’t see anything, anyways. Eyes glazed over, the luxury of air seemingly less important than the impending buildup in your belly.

You aren’t sure how many times you’ve come now—three, four? How many different ways he’s dragged your body across the too-stiff mattress, and folded it whatever way he pleases to see you squirm and leak all over him.

But this one is your favorite, you think. The heat and breadth of him, warm and everywhere all at once, the heavy sack of his balls tapping your swollen clit with every thrust. The one that makes you mindless, the one that makes you remember why this life, this new life, is so special.

“C’mon, little girl,” his gruff voice, a distant echo, finally breaks its way through the surface. It’s accompanied by a firm squeeze to your carotids, sending your eyes rolling back into your skull. “Talk to me. Tell me how you feel.”

You open your lips, but all that comes is a pool of drool and an indiscernible moan. Your thighs are shaking, and you can feel the mixture of slick, sweat, and come burning friction between your bodies.

You try once more. Long lost is the shame of how brittle or broken you sound; Clint accepts it all, and he never judges you for it.

“S-so g—ahh—f-full. M’so, so full, sir.”

His lips press into the back of your neck, and you swear you can feel them spread into a smile.

“Yeah?” he says, and it’s a little condescending. A little mean, but you don’t mind. Despite his nefarious ways and demanding job, Clint has placed you on a pedestal at the center of his universe. The way he plays you is just a reminder that there won’t be, can’t be, anyone else.

“Feel so fuckin’ full of this cock, huh, princess? Can’t even think straight.”

And you’re nodding, because he’s right. All else has lost its importance. All but the shape of him inside of you.

It hits you suddenly, a slight shift of his hips, and you’re gasping, babbling as if your life depends on it: “I’m g-gonna, I’m gonna come again. Please, p-please sir, can I-can I come?”

He places a wet, searing kiss against your jugular and loosens his grip on your neck to bury his hand in your hair. He yanks up, and your back arches off the mattress, adjusts his thighs so they’re cradling your ass and resumes his ceaseless pace.

Your feet kick desperately against the mattress, tears brimming your eyes and fingers digging into the sheets as you try to starve off an orgasm you know you’ll only see through upon his command, his permission.

“Hold on now, baby. Hold it,” he demands sternly, reaching his other hand around to palm at your tits, a squeal of ecstasy coming off your lips when he pinches one of the hardened nipples. “Just a little longer for me.”

You dig your teeth into your bottom lip until you taste iron, trying to focus on anything other than the tightly wound wire in your gut and the beast of a man behind you. You can’t help it, the way your slick walls start to flutter around him, dripping down to the base of his cock, and you hear him growl behind you until you’re being smothered again. He knocks the wind out of you, the entire weight of him pinning you down until the legs of the bed frame start to squeak and the headboard hits the wall.

He doesn’t hold you up, this time. Now, your noises are muffled into the pillows, and he drapes one of his calloused paws across the crown of your head, and presses his lips to your ear.

“So good, baby. Shit, you’re so fuckin’ tight. Perfect fuckin’ pussy,” he grumbles, his words slurred and heavy. “Gonna fill you up again, yeah? As many times as it takes, right?”

It’s the same spiel every time, only now, instead of panic, the prospect of it makes your heart thrum in your chest. Your belly stir with butterflies. Something like hope, delight.

And you’re nodding again, garbling yes, sir, yes sir, into the pillows, repeating the mantra to yourself—as many times as it takes.

Until your belly swells, and you’re full of him, a piece of him.

“That’s right, that’s it, sweetheart,” he’ll tell you. “Gonna keep you nice and full of me till it takes. Keep you both forever.”

Forever. Forever. Forever. It doesn’t sound so bad now, when you weigh it in an empty head run on nothing but the scent of him. You would want for nothing. You, and whatever this piece of him would come to be, protected, loved even, by a man you are supposed to despise.

“Now,” you suddenly hear him command, and your body does the rest of the work for you. Releasing the flood of euphoria and drenching your trembling limbs in it.

He’s grunting in your ear, cock swelling, and spilling inside of you with a roar. Even when he’s finished, he’s still thrusting into you—slower now, carefully fucking every last drop of his seed inside of you.

Every last drop is precious, he’d tell you those first few times, back when you would scream and thrash in a feeble attempt to get him out of you. As if you could ever conquer a man like him, an unmovable force, austere in his pursuit of anything and everything. He always gets what he wants, and what he wants now—

“Easy. Easy, there, sweetheart.” He’s petting the side of your head, turning it for you so that your cheek is pressed into the pillow and you can gulp down mouthfuls of air. “That’s right, deep breaths. Just gonna stay like this for a little while,” he coos, and you hardly notice the stretch of him, plugged all the way up inside of you, until he wiggles his hips a bit and a residual spurt of come leaks into you. You both groan in unison.

Your eyelids grow heavy as your breaths even out; even with the overwhelming sensation of him still all around you, inside of you, you feel an odd sense of peace. Every muscle in your body was pulled taut, now utterly relaxed, satiated. He must feel you settled, because he begins to trail open-mouth kisses across your shoulder, your neck, the base of your sweaty scalp.

“Have a good feeling about this one,” he whispers, and you shudder when one of his hands squeezes between your body and the mattress, and splays firmly over your belly. “Be all swollen before you know it, princess.”

He nibbles at your earlobe, and you whimper. He chuckles rather darkly in response.

“Yeah, you like picturin’ it, don’t you?”

Maybe it’s conditioned, or self-preservation.

“Yes…. yes, sir,” you sigh.

But you can almost hear it yourself. That semblance of truth come to the surface.

You trail a shaky hand under you, finding his, and laying it atop. If you try hard enough, you can feel the phantom outline of a different body, bigger, accommodating new life.

A new life is all you’ve ever wanted.

You feel yourself slip past the threshold of slumber before you can dwell on it any longer, but for a fleeting moment, you acknowledge that truth once more.

It feels strange.

It feels like home.

[meelusinee]

Can you do Lupin Reader x Theodore Nott and he asks her to go out with him, and Harry,Hermione and Ron are like; 'he's an ass and probably thinks it's a joke because your a werewolfs daughter' but Theodore ends up being either the best boyfriend she's ever had or he makes her believe he is,either way you want to do it <3 or you can do it with Mattheo if you want

this prompt was actually such a good prompt that i wrote a fic almost 5k words long and still wanted to keep going. if anyone wants a part two, please do let me know

LOVE ISN'T BLIND | T.N X READER

word count \ 4.7k | fuliffty fluffnut sandwiches | slash / theodore nott / wolfstar daughter!reader

in which your friends think theodore and you aren't a good pair, but you care to disagree

“You’re a good student, Theodore.”

Theodore winced as the words cut through the air like a sharpened knife cutting through a tomato, his fingernails scratching at his skin and trying to find purchase on the scars. “I know.”

“I know that you know,” McGonagall said, a soft chuckle escaping her throat as she spoke. “You’re a very good student, and I know you know that. I know you don’t put in nearly enough effort into your schoolwork,” she continued, her face fading back to its stern expression at the mild wince in Theo’s body. “But I know that you’re a good kid.”

“I know.” Theo said quietly, his voice weaker than when he first said it.

Theodore had a special relationship with Professor McGonagall, especially compared to his other professors. He had found out that his mother and Minerva were close when she was a student in Hogwarts. When McGonagall had first seen Theo in her office hours, she had gifted him a small scrapbook his mother had worked on during her school years.

McGonagall was the first one to really understand how he felt about his mother. If there was anyone he might view as close to a motherly figure as he could, a woman he would go to in order to try and poorly replicate the feeling of what he lost, it would be McGonagall.

Which is why it hurt so much more when McGonagall reprimanded him.

“I’m sure that Mr. Riddle is a good kid as well, I have no doubt about that.” McGonagall sighed quietly, her quill scratching against the parchment she was doodling on while she talked. Theo had found she had a habit of doodling swirls whenever she held serious conversations. “But I need you two to do something.”

Theo sighed quietly and nodded, picking at his fingernails and cuticles. “I don’t know why Mattheo started fighting that guy, Professor.”

“Were you not there?” McGonagall asked him curiously.

Theo shook his head before shrugging. “Not until the end, I pulled him off. Mattheo still won’t tell me why he got into the fight though, so I’m assuming it was something important.”

McGonagall nodded quietly at that before sighing quietly. “You do understand what I’m saying though, correct?” she asked quietly.

Theo nodded at that, still picking at his fingernails. “Yes,” he whispered quietly, before sitting up a bit straighter in his seat. He never quite noticed the taste of tobacco between his teeth until he was in McGonagall’s office. “I’ve been studying in the library more often. For my Charms exam.”

McGonagall smiled a bit brighter at that. “Have you been working on the Mending Charm?”

“I’ve been trying to.” he groaned quietly, deflating as quickly as he sat up straight. Theo had been struggling with the Mending Charm ever since it had been introduced into the class. While he wanted to master it as soon as he had been introduced to it, he had only been able to mend things like torn paper or a barely cracked rock. “I don’t understand why I can’t mend things the way most people can. I mean, I can do small things. But not big things.”

McGonagall chuckled at that, the soft smile he had grown comfortable with coming onto her face. “Do you think you need a tutor?” she asked amusedly.

“A tutor?” Theo asked, though not in a rude way. Just curious.

McGonagall nodded, a small smirk growing on her face. “I have a student who’s really good with those kinds of charms. She might be able to help you with your Reparo.”

Theo narrowed his eyebrows a bit, noting the smirk on McGonagall’s face. She almost never got that smirk on her face, the last time he had seen it on her face was when he had learned that Dumbledore encouraged the Professors to bet on student relationships in his Third Year. “You’re not trying to set me up with her, are you?”

McGonagall giggled quietly and shrugged simply. “I think you and her could be very good friends.”

“Minnie,” he whined, resting his head in his hands. “You know how I feel about that.”

“I know, I know.” she said, grabbing a biscuit and taking a bite. “But I don’t think that she’s like most of the girls that people try to pair you with.”

Theo raised an eyebrow at that, his eyes observing McGonagall as she spoke. “Really?”

“She’s one of my favorite students, Y/N.” McGonagall said, breaking off a part of her biscuit to hand to Theo. “You the girl that sits near the front?”

Theo felt his cheeks flushing slightly at that. He knew about you, he had known of you for a while, ever since the beginning of this year.

You had transferred to Hogwarts at the beginning of this year, to barely anyone’s recognition. Theodore honestly wasn’t sure how nobody had noticed you. You were like the light of his entire life, a sentence he knows is absurd given that the two of you have never even talked before. He was sure that McGonagall had noticed, Mattheo had noticed how often he would do nothing but stare at you during his classes. Still, he couldn’t help but ask. “You noticed?”

“Course I did.” McGonagall deadpanned. “You only stare holes into the back of her head every class that you have together.”

Theo chuckled a bit awkwardly, picking at his fingernails. “She’s really beautiful.”

“Maybe you should talk to her.” McGonagall said with a smile.

Theo nodded, looking down at his hands resting in his lap. “Maybe I should.”

You were currently studying in the library with Hermione, Ron and Harry. Mainly Hermione and Harry, though he was still groaning with Ron about the workload that they had.

“This is so much work.” Ron groaned out loud, the sound reverberating off of the library walls. There was a small shushing sound from behind the bookshelf, which Ron rolled his eyes at. “Why do they assign so much school work?”

Hermione sighed and flipped through her textbook as he said that, the sound of her highlighter almost loud enough to be a reprimand. “Maybe you should’ve worked on it sooner.”

“It’s Potions class Mione,” Harry grumbled. “Snape always gives us an unfair amount of work.”

“He doesn’t give an unfair amount, right Y/N?” Hermione asked, looking over at you.

You looked up from the book that you were reading, fixing your hair behind your ear as you looked at the workload that the boys had. It definitely was more than you had been given though you also knew that they were ones to procrastinate as well. “It might be a mix of both.”

“I guess that’s fair.” Harry shrugged, much to Ron and Hermione’s dismay.

The four of you fell back into silence again, reading through notes and writing down points for potions and charms that you each were working on. It was silent in a calming kind of way to you, a way that reminded you of home, if only for a moment.

That was until your reading session had been interrupted. “Excuse me?”

The four of you looked up to the voice that was standing above you. You recognized him from your Potions and Transfiguration classes, though you didn’t know much else other than that. His voice was nice and smooth with an Italian accent, much like a smooth kind of red wine. His tie was Slytherin green, tied perfectly into his uniform, and his hair had been brushed recently.

“Yes?” you asked quietly, sitting up a bit straighter. As much as you knew that your friends might judge him for the color of his tie, you didn’t mind it too much. The green matched his face well.

Theodore smiled softly and waved, pointing down at the Transfiguration book you were reading. “McGonagall paired us up for tutoring. On the Mending Charm.”

“Oh!” you said before smiling, sighing internally. McGonagall had told you that you would be tutoring someone yesterday, though you were rather anxious about whether the person you would be tutoring would actually pay attention or not. He seemed to want to pay attention, at the very least. “What’s your name?”

“Theo.” he said, clearing his throat. “Theodore Nott.”

You smiled and closed your textbook, packing your bag and offering to go to a different section of the library. “We can study there, they have Silencing Charms around the study area.”

Theo nodded quietly before walking off to the area you had mentioned, leaving you with Harry, Ron and Hermione. The library seemed to get silent at that moment, almost ridiculously so.

“What?” you asked them confusedly.

Ron was the first to speak, his eyebrows furrowed confusedly. “You’re tutoring Nott?”

You shrugged simply. “I guess so,” you muttered quietly, looking to Harry and Hermione in confusion. Theo didn’t seem like a bad person, at least not from what you had seen. “That’s not a bad thing, is it?”

“He hangs around a bad crowd.” Hermione muttered under her breath. Her voice seemed darker than it usually was, something that confused you. “You know, Riddle and them.”

“I mean, he’s probably not as bad as them.” Harry muttered quietly, looking over at Theodore. He was setting up the area that you had pointed him to, since the desks and the chairs were never set up properly. “I’ve never heard much about him, not unless it’s about him pulling someone else out of a fight.”

“See!” you said with a small smile, adjusting the strap of your bag. “He just seems quiet.”

“He’s a womanizer, ain’t he?” Ron said, face contorting in disgust.

You rolled your eyes at Ron’s words, looking over at Theo again. You could definitely see it, especially with the tiredness in his eyes. He was a conventionally attractive man. “At least he can understand women.” you rolled your eyes, looking over at Ron with a teasing smirk.

“Hey!” Ron pouted. Hermione chuckled quietly, with Harry laughing a bit louder. Ron rolled his eyes again before sighing. “I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

You rolled your eyes back. “If Nott hurts me, then he’s gonna have to deal with my dad.”

“Yeah, yeah I know.” Ron said. “But still.”

Harry chuckled and closed his book, stretching out his back. “If anyone can handle themselves, it’s Y/N, Ron. Pads trained her with that stuff.”

“Ron still has a point.” Hermione said quietly. “I don’t know if I’d trust Nott either.”

You rolled your eyes again at that, taking the rest of your stuff and placing it all in your bag. “I’ll be fine.” you said, waving them goodbye and wishing them well in their studies.

You had been having study sessions with Theo for a couple of weeks at this point. He was a very talented student, so talented you weren’t even sure why McGonagall gave him tutoring lessons in the first place. Regardless of whether he needed them or not, he had them anyway. Which meant that the both of you wasted time talking to each other.

You learned a bit about what he was passionate about. He loved to read and write, especially poetry that was mellow and dramatic. He liked tea and Italian wine, and he liked the smell of cigarettes and weed at the top of the Astronomy Tower after a stressful day. You found yourself quite liking the scent of cigarettes and weed too, especially from his lips at the top of the Astronomy Tower. Theo told you about how he loved the stars, how his mother was resting there and how he liked to imagine them shining down through her love.

It was something that warmed your heart, a sentiment so mellow and sweet.

You learned silly things about Theodore as well. He was a sarcastic and sassy man, sassier than most that you knew. He had a knack for getting drama and dirt on others, though you doubted he’d use it unless he truly needed to. Not unless he wanted to talk gossip with you, something he had apparently never been able to do. You also learned that he hated a lot of petty things, some tiny things that had you howling on the floor.

You seemed closer to Theodore than you seemed to anyone else. Your friends were put off by it at first, especially Ron, though you tried not to pay them any mind. You went about your school days hanging around all four of your friends, at least until winter break came along.

The both of you were resting in the Astronomy Tower together, the bite of the wind reminding you of the fact that you would both be going home in the morning, even if temporarily.

“Are you going to go home for the holidays?” Theo asked quietly. His voice was thicker than usual, especially his accent. “Or are you gonna stay here?”

“I’m going home.” you chuckled quietly. Your voice was quite hoarse from screaming earlier, the both of you flying around in the empty Quidditch pitch. The rain had bit at your skin and peeled it off, at least it felt like that was what happened. “My dads would kill me if I didn’t.”

“Dads?” Theo asked curiously, his eyebrows furrowed as he looked over at you. You had never noticed how full they were until now, the both of you huddled together on the floor for warmth.

You looked over at him with furrowed eyebrows as well. “What?”

“I didn’t know Lupin was gay.” he muttered quietly.

You shrugged simply. “I mean, he’s been with women before. But he’s married to my other dad.” you explained to Theo, looking at him with a tilted head. “Does that bother you?”

Theo shook his head instantly, chuckling quietly. “Not at all, I think it’s cool. I just didn’t think he was.” he said to you. “What’s your other dad like?”

You shrugged again before leaning your head on his shoulder. “He’s way louder. A drama queen. I think you’d like him.” you whispered, wrapping your arms around his for warmth. You weren’t quite sure why the air seemed to be freezing more than usual. Maybe it was the water still in your hair, which had poofed quite a bit.

“He sounds fun.” he whispered, resting his head back on yours. “I don’t know if I’m going to go home.”

“Do you want me to stay with you?” you asked him, looking up at him.

Theo shook his head. “I don’t want to keep you from your family, that’s cruel.” he whispered quietly, a small smile forming on his face. “Mattheo’s probably gonna stay and annoy the shit out of me. As long as we can send each other owls and whatnot, we can be apart for just a couple weeks. Right?”

You smiled softly at that. “Definitely.”

Theo smiled at that, his hand linking with yours. You felt your cheeks warming slightly. You had only just now realized how close the two of you were, especially with physical contact. What scared you most was how easily you had become accustomed to it, but what scared you more was how much you craved it when you didn’t have it.

“We’re going to have to go soon.” Theo whispered quietly.

You shrugged simply, head still resting against his shoulder. “I have my bag packed already.” you said. “As long as I leave here before the sun rises, I’ll be fine.”

“Maybe we can rest here for a bit?” he asked. There was something in his voice that you couldn’t pinpoint, though you wanted to say it was hopeful. “Just an hour or two.”

“Or maybe three.” you giggled quietly, cuddling closer to him.

“Y/N, my love!” Sirius called out, his body quivering with excitement as soon as he saw his daughter entering the house again. Remus was walking behind him with a cane, the last full moon having broken his leg in a way that hasn’t mended just yet. Sirius, as attentive as he was to Remus’ injury, seemed to forget about him completely in the face of their daughter.

Remus couldn’t really blame him either.

“You’re late!” Sirius pouted as he pulled you into a hug. You had to get Floo Flame access to the house through McGonagall’s office, though Remus or Sirius had been given a reason why. Nothing more than a letter from Minerva to ask you about it. “And you had to get Floo powder!”

“I’m fine, Dad.” you chuckled, dragging your bag into the room. “Can I go unpack before you barrage me with questions?”

“Of course you can.” Remus said with a small smile, kissing your forehead before letting you go upstairs. He noted a couple of new scars on your body, though nothing too major from the most recent transformation.

Sirius and Remus watched as you walked upstairs before turning to face each other, calculating expressions on the both of their faces. Ron and Hermione had come to them earlier after they had unpacked all of their clothes with concerned expressions on their faces. Remus had listened carefully when they expressed their concerns about you and Theodore, how they didn’t believe that Theodore would be a good influence on you.

Sirius seemed way more dramatic about it than he needed to be, though Remus was sure it was more for the fun of it rather than any potential danger. Remus tried to listen to Ron and Hermione’s concerns, as dramatic as they sounded from them, with an open mind.

He knew of the kid they were talking about through his year of teaching at Hogwarts, which quickly led to Sirius interviewing him as soon as Ron and Hermione had left the room.

A bright student that might not have put his whole foot into the assignment, but enough effort to have his grades worth something. He was a quiet student though, he didn’t get into much trouble. And as much as Sirius pouted about him potentially being a womanizer, Remus was sure that he wouldn’t get worse than Sirius was at Hogwarts.

“I’m back!” you called out, walking into the room with your pajamas.

“You look amazing, dove.” Remus smiled, pulling you into the hug he hadn’t been able to get earlier. “How was school this year? Did you have fun?”

“Oh yeah, tons!” you smiled brightly, jumping up and down a couple of times. “Can I tell you guys about it?”

“Be our guest.” Sirius smiled brightly.

Remus offered to make tea while you talked about the school year. It definitely had its downsides with Umbridge, who you were finally able to talk about now that you weren’t being tracked by her and her devices. But it was also a good year too. You had hung out with your friends, your grades had been good, and you had helped Harry establish the DA inside of the Room of Requirements. Sirius and Remus found themselves laughing at many different times during the stories of your escapades, though it eventually mellowed out when Sirius took his final sip of tea.

“Dove,” he said, clearing his throat and resting his hands on the table. “We had something we wanted to ask you about.”

“You do?” you asked confusedly, looking over at Remus who seemed just as confused. “We do?”

“Yes, we do!” Sirius pouted. “Ron and Hermione have informed us that you may or may not be hanging out with a Slytherin boy, who may or may not go by the name of Theodore.”

You rolled your eyes and groaned, resting your head on the table. “Dad!”

“Was that really that much of a big deal?” Remus asked amusedly.

“Course it is!” Sirius wailed, his hands waving aimlessly in the air. “He’s a Slytherin! What if he’s using you to steal the Gryffindor’s Quidditch formula so that way they can beat the Gryffindors. I cannot stand even the thought of such atrocities.”

“Dad,” you groaned out loud. “Quidditch is cancelled, he couldn’t do that anyways.”

“She cancelled Quidditch?” Sirius asked dramatically, though Remus knew that he felt sadness running through every bone of his body from the news alone. “That’s a crime!”

“And I know that Theodore wouldn’t do that anyways.” you said, your voice much more collected in comparison. “Even McGonagall trusts him! She set us up in the first place.”

“McGonagall set you two up?” Remus chuckled out.

You sputtered out for a moment before shrugging. “Yeah, she had me tutor him.” you muttered quietly to the both of them. “For the Mending Charm. Though I think she just wanted us to hang out, he was rather good at it anyways.”

“Oh, the classic tutoring.” Sirius sighed wistfully. “You know, McGonagall did that for James and Lily too back in our Sixth Year. Worked like a charm.”

You smiled softly at that. “He really isn’t that bad. Ron is just being dramatic.”

“Do you like him?” Remus asked curiously, taking a sip of his tea. He drank his much slower compared to Sirius.

You looked down at your cup of tea, which had barely been touched in your rambles. “I think so, but I’m not sure.” you whispered quietly. “We were cuddling last night, you know? Talking about stuff. He’s still staying at Hogwarts for Christmas.”

“Umbridge?” Sirius asked with a raised eyebrow.

You shook your head quietly. “His dad sucks.”

“You could’ve stayed with him if you wanted.” Remus said.

You shook your head again, this time a bit louder. “I would’ve. But he said I should come home. Family’s really important to him, you know?” you said with a soft smile. “His friend’s staying.”

Sirius and Remus looked at each other before smiling at that. Remus knew that Ron probably had a wrong perception, though he wasn’t aware it was going to be that wrong. He did, however, know that you were being genuine. “That’s a lot better than I thought it’d be.”

Sirius chuckled and shook his head. “Ron and Hermione were being rather dramatic, weren’t they?”

“What on Earth did they even say?” you asked exasperatedly.

“Nothing much,” Remus chuckled. “Other than that Theodore was a major ass, and probably thought it was a twisted joke to mess with you because you're a werewolf's daughter.”

You groaned loudly, slamming your head on the table. “Oh my God.”

“But,” Sirius said, a small smile on his face. “If he treats you well, and you love him truly, then I don’t think there’s an issue. Right Moony?”

“Exactly.” Remus said with a smile. “I’m sure that as long as he knows I will kill him should he hurt you, that whatever you choose to do from here will be a very healthy relationship.”

You chuckled loudly at that, standing up from your seat to give them both a hug that Sirius returned a lot quicker than Remus could. “I love you two.”

“We love you too, dove.” Remus whispered quietly, a small but proud smile on his face.

“Y/N!”

You looked up as you heard Theodore’s voice echoing through the halls, eyes blinking open in confusion. The lights around you were blinding to say the least, but they soon calmed down as you saw Theo move them to the side. “Theo?”

“What on Earth happened?” he gasped out.

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion before looking down, sighing quietly.

Your body was covered in bruises and cut marks, all from the night before. The full moon had been violent this month, a vision piercing through your mind that had led you to lashing out in the Shrieking Shack. You were usually never violent to your other self, unlike your father, though you still sometimes inherited the anger.

It seemed like tonight was a night you did.

“It’ll heal up.” you whispered quietly, looking over at Theo again. There was a pained expression on his face. He was obviously the first to know your night had gone sour, since you hadn’t heard from Hermione, Ron or Harry yet. “I promise.”

“Did someone do this to you?” he asked, looking you in the eyes. You immediately noticed the venom in his voice, and almost wanted to chuckle at it. He was so protective of you it was almost like a comedy show. Just earlier that week he had dragged you to the Slytherin Common Room when you came back early from your Yule break, and he had almost punched Mattheo square in the jaw for an offhand comment he thought was about you. Turns out that Mattheo had been looking at a completely different person, much to his luck.

You supposed that it was fair, all things considered. You both worked out the kinks of your relationship that night when you came back, which ended in a long session of kisses and affirmations of love whispered into the starry night shining just outside of the Astronomy Tower.

Even still, you weren’t sure how Theo would react to you being a werewolf. He knew of your father’s condition, every one of his students did, but not of yours.

You supposed there was only one way to find out.

“I did this.” you whispered.

Theo looked at you confusedly, in the sort of way like he thought you were lying more than the way like you didn’t make sense. “You did this.” he deadpanned out.

You shrugged simply, sitting up a bit straighter with his help. “You do know I’m a werewolf, right?”

Theo looked up at you, before looking down at the claw marks and the bruises again. “What does,” he muttered confusedly, eyebrows furrowed like he was trying to solve a rather hard Ancient Rune tome. “I know that lycanthropy can be genetic. But I didn’t know that werewolves harmed themselves on full moons.”

“Most usually don’t.” you shrugged, a great sigh leaving your mind internally. He was more observant than you had given credit for. “I guess it was just a bad night.”

Theo felt his eyebrows furrowing even further. “Is that where your father got his scars from?”

“Mhm.” you nodded. “His leg’s healing from last month’s moon still.

Theo nodded before pulling you into a kiss. It wasn’t like the kisses the both of you had before, it wasn’t harsh and demanding. No lust was present in the ridges of his tongue, no wanton need or burning desire for something sinful hidden in the cracks on his upper lip. There was only love. A pure love, one that you weren’t sure you had ever felt before.

It was warm like the sun on a summer’s morning, wrapping your soul in a blanket so cozy you were positive you never wanted to leave this kiss. If you weren’t of a more practical mind, you’d think that this kiss was a cure to all of your ailments. You might even believe that now.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there.” he whispered quietly, his eyes locked with yours.

You scoffed quietly. “I would’ve hurt you.”

“I bet you were beautiful.” he said, a small but smug smirk on his face. “I wouldn’t mind dying to your claws.”

“Theo!” you smiled ridiculously, swatting his arm. “You’re insane.”

“I can be anything for you.” he winked, before looking over at the door to the Hospital Wing. “I should probably get going. Your friends are coming.”

You frowned softly at the door, noticing that Harry was holding it open for Ron and Hermione. No doubt they were way behind, he always walked faster than most. “Will I see you again?” you asked him quietly.

“Of course.” he smiled, biting his lip as he tried to figure out how he’d get out without being seen.

‘Harry doesn’t mind you, you know.” you whispered. “I’m sure he’d let you pass.”

Theo looked at you with a grateful smile, kissing your lips before walking over to the door. You were sure Harry had seen everything, a theory based nothing more than on the smirk he sent your way and the look he gave to Theo. Not a mean look by any means, nothing more just a protective look. Theo seemed to understand it, nodding quietly with a small smile before walking out the infirmary before Ron and Hermione approached.

You were glad that he came first. You felt rather glad for everything, really.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

this one took a lot longer than i was anticipating for a lot of reasons. i got sick, it's long as hell, had schoolwork beating my ass sideways and got really into watching arcane when i quite honestly should've been writing, but i finally got it done! sorry for the long wait anon, but i hope that this story fits your prompt's idea!

AS ALWAYS - please like, comment, and reblog! love ya!

[asterafroditis]

𐔌 . ⋮ white day ♥︎ .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

☓┆Third Years x gn! reader

𓏵 1161 words

ᝰ.ᐟ headcanons, no pronouns, fluff

First Years are done! Second Years are done, too! feel free to like, reblog, or comment!

ᝰ.ᐟ masterlist

“Woah, no way—seriously?!” Cater exclaims, eyes lighting up as you hand him the neatly wrapped gift.

He turns the box over in his hands, snapping a quick photo before even opening it. “#WhiteDayWin! Look at this—perfectly wrapped and everything. You’ve got a real aesthetic eye, y’know?”

But when he actually opens the gift, his teasing falters for just a second. His smile softens, and his fingers tighten around the box.

“Aw, you really went all out for me, huh?” His voice drops just a bit, no filters, no exaggeration—just genuine warmth.

He quickly shakes off the moment, flashing you a playful grin. “Guess I’ll have to step up my game next year~ Can’t be outdone, right?”

Still, you notice him glancing at your gift more than once, a small, real smile tugging at his lips when he thinks no one’s looking.

─────────────────────────

“Oh? What’s this?” Trey’s brows lift as you place a small box in his hands.

When you explain that it’s a White Day gift in return for his Valentine’s one, he chuckles, shaking his head. “You didn’t have to do that. Really, I was just happy to make something for you.”

But despite his words, he’s careful when he opens the box, almost like he’s savoring the moment. His expression softens as he takes in the contents, eyes lingering on the details.

“…You really put thought into this.” There’s something deeply appreciative in his voice, something steady and warm. “Thanks, I’ll make sure to take good care of it.”

He smiles at you, gentle and sincere. “Guess I’ll have to bake you something extra special next time, huh?”

And true to his word, the next time you visit Heartslabyul, there’s a fresh batch of sweets waiting just for you.

─────────────────────────

“Tch. What’s this?” Leona eyes the gift you hold out, lips pulling into a smirk. “You think I need some kinda thank-you?”

He leans back lazily, but there’s a flicker of interest in his eyes as he reaches for the box. His movements are slow, deliberate, like he’s making sure you know he’s choosing to accept it, not because he cares.

(But he does care. A little too much.)

He opens it with one hand, the other propping up his head. His eyes flicker over the gift, and for a moment, his usual cocky expression softens into something unreadable.

“…Hmph.” He clicks his tongue, setting the box aside with feigned nonchalance. “You’re somethin’ else, herbivore. Wasting time on me like this.”

But later, you catch him looking at the gift again—thumb running idly over its surface, tail flicking lazily behind him.

─────────────────────────

A single elegant brow lifts as you present the gift. “Oh? A White Day present? How thoughtful.”

Vil takes the box delicately, inspecting the wrapping with a keen eye. “A good presentation is just as important as the gift itself,” he muses, but when he actually opens it, the comment dies on his lips.

His fingers brush over the gift, his gaze unreadable. Then, slowly, a small, approving smile tugs at his lips.

“This… is quite tasteful,” he finally says, his voice softer than usual. He glances at you, something warm and unreadable in his violet eyes.

“You have good instincts. Perhaps I should bring you along next time I go shopping.”

Vil may not say it outright, but you can tell—he’s genuinely pleased. The next time you see him, he’s wearing or using your gift, as if it had always belonged to him.

─────────────────────────

“Ah! What a delightful surprise!” Rook gasps dramatically, pressing a hand to his chest. “Mon cher, you continue to amaze me~”

He takes the gift with a flourish, twirling it in his hands as he admires the craftsmanship. “To think that you would bestow upon me a token of your appreciation! Ah, the beauty of human connection!”

When he opens it, his emerald eyes gleam with excitement. “Exquisite! You have chosen with such care, such precision! It is as if you peered into my very soul to divine what would please me most!”

He holds the gift close, smiling warmly. “Truly, this is a treasure. And so are you, my dear trickster.”

Later, you find him showing off your gift to others, boasting about how “magnifique” your sense of taste is.

─────────────────────────

Idia freezes when you hand him the gift. His hair flares slightly at the edges.

“Wha—huh? For me?” His voice cracks slightly, and he pulls his hoodie strings tighter. “N-No way, you’re actually returning the favor?”

His fingers twitch as he takes the box, staring at it like it might explode. He mutters something about “NPCs in dating sims never doing this,” but his curiosity gets the better of him, and he peeks inside.

His breath catches.

For a second, he just stares at the gift, expression unreadable. Then, ever so slightly, his lips twitch into the smallest, most genuine of smiles.

“…T-Thanks,” he murmurs, barely above a whisper. His face is burning, but there’s a softness in his eyes. “Guess I gotta, um… get you something next year, huh?”

He tries to act casual, but you later find the gift displayed in his room, perfectly preserved like a prized collectible figure.

─────────────────────────

Malleus’s eyes widen ever so slightly when you present the gift. “A gift… for me?”

His fingers brush over the wrapping, handling it with a careful reverence. “I see. This is in response to my offering on Valentine’s Day.”

There’s something almost wistful in his expression as he unwraps the gift, as if savoring the moment. When he sees what’s inside, his lips curve into a small, pleased smile.

“You are quite considerate,” he murmurs, his glowing eyes meeting yours. “It is a rare thing for one to present me with such a sincere offering.”

He chuckles softly. “I shall treasure this.”

True to his word, the next time you visit Diasomnia, you see your gift carefully placed among his most valued belongings.

─────────────────────────

“Oh ho! What’s this?” Lilia grins as you hand him the box, his crimson eyes gleaming with mischief.

When you explain that it’s for White Day, he lets out a chuckle. “How sweet! You’re quite the thoughtful one, aren’t you?”

He opens the box with theatrical flair, but the moment he sees what’s inside, his expression shifts—just a little. His usual playful air softens, something warmer lurking beneath.

“My, my… You really put effort into this, didn’t you?” His voice is quieter now, almost fond. “How wonderful.”

He pats your head (whether you like it or not). “I’ll cherish it. And perhaps, next year, I’ll have to surprise you with something even grander!”

Despite his usual antics, you notice him holding onto your gift with care—tucking it safely away, as if it’s something precious.

[karanseraph]

Once, long ago, there was the Quadrivium and the Trivium within The Seven Liberal Arts. The Quadrivium included Geometry, Arithmetic, Astronomy, and Music, while the Trivium or the remaining three arts of The Seven Liberal Arts were Grammar, Logic, and Rhetoric.

STEM is an updated grouping of Science, Technology, Engineering, and Maths (yes?) for our post-idustrisl, information technology age, as we have many specialized sciences and kinds of maths.

And that's cool.

Note that Music is in there right in the Quadrivium. Note that Geometry is in there which is (trust me I went to art school) tied up with visual arts.

So STEAM as a way of designation that Music,and Fine/Visual Art belong is a decent way of updating the older Quadrivium.

But, all that said, let's not forget about Grammar, Logic and Rhetoric, which in an updated system would probably include Critical Thinking and Media Literacy.

We need STEAM, but we also need to be able to communicate findings and to be able to evaluate the reports and articles in order to make policy in the world.

And, someone is going to explain to me that the 'S' already includes Library Sciences or Science Comminication or that Communication falls under the 'A' in STEAM.

But, I'm just not sure that's the common understanding of what most or average people are taking away from STEM or STEAM. Some brains crave clarification.

Look at our world having Science yet having so many people unable to apply Critical Thinking or to catch the Rhetoric of public figures using so much logical fallacy. Look at so-called 'anti-science rhetoric' in our media.

Also, look at some people in Tech and Engineering-heavy industries making policy about labor (Busineess and Economics comes in here?) that seems devoid of appropriate social-emotional understanding (or if understanding then intentionally manipulative and exploitative and 'inappropriate').

A few years back (IIRC) schools tried to encourage more Social-Emotional learning. I recall children's programming was also labeled at some point for whether in inclded educational/informative or social/emotional content. But it was complained about in the same way "Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion" has been.

Why teach kids about teamwork or friendship when we are in some perceived technological race with another nation?

Why teach kids about empathy?

Because Empathy is not a sin or a bug. It's a feature. It's perception and understanding of those we observe in our world on a deep level. Isn't observation key to Science? (To reality?)

So, anyway, STEAM is awesome.

But, let's make sure there really is full understanding that when we use the term STEAM that clearly Communication, Logic, and Rhetoric are still included.

And let's absolutely not forget that we are humans, we're social creatures, and we share this world, so learning to recognize, process, and regulate emotions in a healthy manner is also important for both survival and in pluralistic societies. Not just studying the nature of emotions or thoughts in Behavioural Sciences, but us each having thoughts and feelings and knowing what to appropriately do with them.

“the arts and sciences are completely separate fields that should be pitted against each other” the overlap of the arts and sciences make up our entire perceivable reality they r fucking on the couch

[brittle-doughie]

A Sprinkling Reunion (First Sprinkle Cookie)

———————————————————————

You: “We have arrived!”

Gingerbrave: “Whoa, look at that!”

Strawberry Cookie: “It’s a giant circus tent!”

Gingerbright: “A circus sounds like so much fun! We should go and watch!”

Wizard Cookie: “With a crowd this big, there’s bound to be a Cookie who knows about the First Batch!”

You: “There’s no doubt about it. When there’s a First Cookie, there’s bound to be a Cookie of the First Batch nearby as well.”

Gingerbrave: “Well then, what are we waiting for!”

Cream Donut Cookie: “Welcome, welcome! The show is about to begin! The one and only, always hilarious and brilliantly entertaining First Sprinkle Cookie will perform an all-new act!”

Right in the middle of the announcement, Cream Donut had dropped his drumstick as it rolled away from him!

Cream Donut Cookie: “Oh no! My drumstick! Someone please grab that runaway drumstick for me!!!”

You: “Oh! I got it!”

You readied your hand to grab the drumstick rolling in your direction, only for a small Cookie to hurry at it and grab it!

Giggles: “HEEHEE!!! I’ll get it for ya, Cream Donut Cookie!

The little Cookie stood up to now notice you in front of them.

Giggles: “Oh hello, it’s nice to meet you! I’m Giggles!”

You: “It’s pleasant to meet ya, Giggles. I’m Y/N Cookie and you managed to grab that drumstick before I did.”

Giggles: “I did, didn’t it!”

You: “You did! Great job there!”

As the two of you conversed, the group noticed something familiar about the little Cookie.

Wizard Cookie: “Is it just me, or does that Cookie hear a striking resemblance to Gingerdozer?”

But there was barely time to speculate as the waiting crowd roared in applause and excitement. And when you stood up from the sudden cheering, you just found out why.

First Sprinkle Cookie: “Thank you, thank you! Just wait a bit and you’ll get to see a circus show filled with nothing but glee!”

Gingerbrave: “Looks like we found First Sprinkle Cookie!”

Strawberry Cookie: “Everyone seems to love her.”

First Sprinkle Cookie: “There you are, Giggles!”

The little Cookie giggled as they went to First Sprinkle Cookie.

Giggles: “First Sprinkle Cookie! Have ya met Y/N Cookie, they were really nice to meet!”

First Sprinkle Cookie: “Y/N Cookie, you say? Well, I want to see this brand..new…face?”

Her smile falls when she makes direct eye contact with you, and just like with the previous Firsts, you felt shock course through your soul.

The cheering crowd falls quiet and the group were a little confused as to the sudden stop of the cherry vibes.

Gingerbrave: “Uh…they’re happy to see you?”

Wizard Cookie: “Those two don’t exactly look happy to see each other.”

You: “H-hello, First Sprinkle Cookie…”

First Sprinkle Cookie: “Y/N…Cookie?”

She lets go of Giggle’s hand and slowly walked towards you, you have this urge to run, but you knew she’d catch you if you did. There was no need to make a bigger scene than it already was.

You: “I-I know we didn’t leave off on the best note last time, but I had hoped I could see you again just to say-“

First Sprinkle Cookie: “Don’t say another word.”

You shush up as First Sprinkle stops before you, scanning your look for a couple of moments, nothing but silence….

Until….

She started to smile again as she lets out a boisterous laugh!

First Sprinkle Cookie: “Why, today sure is a special day! We have another super-duper important guest with us today! Please give your applause to my…friend, Y/N Cookie!”

The tense atmosphere was finally broken as the crowd resumed their excitement and praise, thr Gingerbrave group left more baffled then before.

Strawberry Cookie: “What was..that?”

Wizard Cookie: “Whatever it was, it didn’t look good!”

Gingerbright: “Yeah, First Sprinkle Cookie looked conflicted with Y/N Cookie there!”

First Sprinkle Cookie: “And without further ado, let’s head on in!”

First Sprinkle grabbed your hand as she led you into the circus tent along with Giggles.

You: “W-wait! Hold on, I didn’t get to finish!”

First Sprinkle Cookie: “Don’t worry one bit, we’ll have plenty time to chit-chat after the show! And I’m making sure you’re actually in the audience this time, hm?”

That..hit you like a punch in the stomach as she dragged you inside, having no reason to protest against her anymore as you let her do so.

Gingerbrave: “First Sprinkle Cookie! Wait a sec!”

First Sprinkle Cookie: “Teehee! No time to delay! Our show’s gonna be fun in the most thrilling of ways!”

The group followed after her, being left with more questions than answers.

Just what was the problem between you and her…?

———————————————————————

[morriemonnie]

I gotta know do you have any specific fruitcake headcanons,,,you're like my favorite fruitcake artist I think and I appreciate you immensely your art of the goobers makes me so happy 🥺

definitely had to think about this ... obviously there's the filipino sprout headcanon that i have >:9

but this one in particular is my very important and special one purely because this is based off of me and my boyfriend, haha !

i'm mildy deaf, so i sometimes use ASL ! my boyfriend have mentioned to me a bunch of times about wanting to learn ASL so he could communicate i love yous to me and i was very endeared ... 💌

so, i decided to give both sprout and cosmo to be able to understand ASL ... i like the idea and image of the two interacting with deaf kids, really brightens up my heart a whole bunch ... ! ☀️

[autemis]

OMG, what is this patch?! (SPOILER)

The little things they’ve added around Henry and Hans's room are everything! I know many have already pointed these out, but that won’t stop me from babbling about it too!

Alright, let’s start directly with the potion right outside their room! The happiness potion (Idk what it’s called in english, in german it’s named "eine Prise Glück", which translates kinda to "a little bit of happiness").

What is this description, pls? "Such luck can’t be found anywhere else. One of the side effects is dancing in the moonlight." That sounds so beautiful! It feels like a metaphor for their romance - a secret they can only share in the dark, but that doesn’t diminish its beauty. A love that feels like a dance under a clear night sky, where the moon and the stars are the only silent witnesses who don’t judge.

german description for 'a little bit of happiness' - what does this potion even do out there? Did someone put it there or is it just a subtle symbol for blossoming, young emotions?

Also, the little dog toy right next to Hans's bed - a symbol of interest in Henry's life. Hans got it (I’m totally convinced of this) for Mutt, to show his affection and interest - the dog who is really important to Henry. It also could be symbolize an apology for what happened at the beginning of the game. Hans broke his promise to help Henry find his dog, which is why he tries to show his appreciation for Mutt. He shows that he cares about him and doesn’t just tolerate him. Mutt is important to Henry and therefore to Hans - not just because he simply likes the dog, but also because he knows how much Henry cares about Mutt.

The dog toy on Hans's nightstand—where did he even get it from? Did he buy it or did he even make it himself?

And of course, the stamina potion under Hans's bed, along with the poetry book! I don’t know what the thought process behind this was, but I’m thankful to whoever decided to put it there. Just the idea that Hans owns a poetry book with an undoubtedly queer subtext is brilliant! It suggests he has a certain interest in this topic - no matter what. (I think we don’t actually know who wrote it, do we? Personally, it seems like Hans might have written it himself, given how the book is laid out - no embellishments on the pages, just plain text and -I'm sorry Hans- medium-good poetry.)

Hans seems to really want to engage with the topic and apparently also with his own emotions. It’s such a sweet little detail that really shapes his character! He clearly is still a bit confused, but he’s trying to handle it in his own way. I really don’t want to be needy, but I hope we get more of these little things in future updates or with the DLCs.

The stamina potion on the other hand is pure comedy - what does Hans need this extra strength for? For when he has a bit of time alone or when someone is visiting? Or maybe it isn’t even for him? Perhaps it’s for someone else who has to keep up with Hans through certain "activities."

Stamina potion and "leicht anstößiger Gedichtsband" ("lightly risqué poetry collection") under Hans's bed. He really should have hidden it in a better place - or perhaps he wanted someone "special" to find it?

I’m crying tears of happiness because of this patch! But also because Henry just casually stole Hans's poetry book - that's so hilarious! Imagine the mental crisis Hans will go through when he notices his book is missing. 🤣

[jubileebloom]

As much as I appreciate the people defending Ford in the wake of TBOB's release, and discussing the importance of avoiding victim-blaming and being aware of a person's environment, there's something specific that rubs me the wrong way about some of the things I've read.

The thing about abuse is that takes agency away from its victims. This is actually something that broadly applies to different forms of trauma, as I've just been going over in one of my classes on Adolescent Development. My professor for that class specializes in trauma-informing and training, so she has an entire unit on trauma as part of the syllabus, and one of the things she emphasized was that giving people agency and control over their own choices is critical to helping them recover from a traumatic event.

When it comes to Bill's possession of Ford, the lack of control is even more literal. Ford literally has his body puppeted by a demon, and his mind altered as well. Others have taken agency from him to a lesser extent—Stan limiting his choices in education, Fiddleford potentially using the memory gun on him, as another analysis post I can't find did a really good job of breaking down—but it's not as all-encompassing as Bill's abuse, and Stan and Fidds both make better choices later in the series. Bill refuses to.

But I'm getting off topic. My point is, Ford's loss of agency is one of the most crucial pieces of his character arc. It's why he lashes out so strongly when he returns home, against his will, to find that his identity has been stolen. It probably factors into his need to be the "hero", to be the one to defeat Bill. And even though he ultimately isn't that "hero", and he does let the Mystery Shack continue to operate, he does ultimately get more of a choice in the matter. He chooses to go along with the plan. He chooses to go with Stan on their long-overdue adventure.

But there's something else he does too. He apologizes.

Why is that so important? Because in regaining his sense of agency, he also undertakes the accountability that goes with it. He isn't solely to blame for everything that happened to him, or even necessarily every choice he made, but he did make bad choices.

And that's the thing that bothers me about some Ford analyses and defenses. Some people go too far and say that Ford isn't to blame for anything that he's done. Not only is that untrue, but it is once again stripping him of his agency. He is an adult capable of making his own decisions, and ergo capable of making bad decisions. And we need to accept that, without infantilizing him or blaming everyone else around him.

One of the things that compels me so much about Gravity Falls is that is generally does strike this balance pretty well, of personal agency vs. external circumstances. (There's also an excellent analysis post out there somewhere about Dipper and Mabel's agency, how the show doesn't force them to fix the problems of their predecessors or burden them exclusively with saving the world, but does still let them have agency and power in the fight and in Stan's recovery.) There are so, so many things that happen to the main cast that are mostly outside of their control, and also bad decisions that a lot of them have made that cannot be excused, at least not fully, by their circumstances.

And the beautiful thing about that agency is that these characters are also able to use it to become better people, to regain control over their lives, to take back power after it was taken from them. But you have to let them, and that includes letting them be people who messed up, owned up, and worked to make it better.

In fact, I think the reason that Ford is so quick to own up to his mistakes when it comes to Bill is because that's one of the ways he's taking back his power. He's incredibly stubborn when it comes to holding other grudges, but with Bill, he readily admits to Stan and Dipper separately that he's made some "terrible mistakes", to use his words. And he isn't to blame for falling for Bill's manipulation—Bill was the one actively manipulating—but no, he should not have summoned him to begin with. That doesn't make him deserving of anything Bill did to him, but by admitting to the mistakes he did make and working on a way to defeat Bill, it's letting him take back some amount of control in the whole situation. He can't make Bill change his ways, but he can own up to and correct the things he did wrong.

He does overcorrect a bit; I do think he blames himself too much for "falling for Bill's flattery." But generally, I like how he also doesn't try to blame Bill for every single thing that went wrong with the whole portal deal, like he (initially) did with some other situations, especially everything with Stan.

Anway. Let Ford make mistakes. Let him be wrong sometimes. Let him have his agency.

[shigayokagayama]

hello!! i just saw your post about teru’s character arc and dynamic w/ mob and was blown away - i never EVER noticed the heart eye panel. i was curious if you had a deep character analysis of teru/would be willing to share your opinions on teru’s arc? at risk of sounding completely media illiterate i feel like most of teru’s arc went completely over my head watching the anime and i would be curious to hear your thoughts (if you would like to share)!

oh it's totally not your fault, a lot of teru's arc was already pretty subtextual in the manga and the anime cuts a lot of the small details that give you the context to put the whole thing together

im gonna put my own interpretation of his arc under the cut because i could literally talk about this kid for years

ok so basically, teru's starting point as a character is "im special and important because of my powers because i have to be special and important or my life is empty and meaningless"

the entire construction of his social life; his overachieving in sports, his popularity, his place as the shadow leader of a middle school gang- all of that exists to prop himself up as the main character of the world and distract himself from how crushingly empty and devoid of connections his life is. hence-

this fight is what dismantles the idea that his powers make him uniquely special and enlightened, but it doesnt really do anything to actually built an internal sense of self confidence. his realization that he is an ordinary person doesnt come with "and that's okay because everyone is", it's just a reshuffle of the heirarchy he has viewed the world as. now instead of himself > everyone, it's mob > himself > everyone.

the fact that he knows special powers don't make him special is his new point of false confidence- he isnt uniquely enlightened because he has special powers, he's uniquely enlightened because he knows those powers don't make him special

and while the 7th division arc serves some challenging of this worldview, it's not really until wd arc that it actually gets dismantled.

to...

BUT this isnt the end of it. teru's notion that he is uniquely special and important has, by this point, been thoroughly dismantled. however....

other people....

by necessity no growth can really occur within broccoli arc for anyone but mob and dimple. since everyones memories of this arc get wiped, it serves as a good setup for where everyone's characters arcs are left to go before we get into confession arc. teru has been left in a place where, while his place in the "special and important people" hierarchy has been dropped, this has left mob at the top of an unreachable pedestal. dimple's prior efforts to convert teru through force, with the cookies and insisting himself as god, were fruitless. being controlled like that only made him angry. it was only through teru's idolization of mob that he was able to replace himself in that already existing spot in teru's psyche

so going into confession arc, teru has this unshakable, almost literally godlike image of mob in his head, which leads him to the same mistake so many people in this arc have to work through.

this isnt him. he's perfect. he doesn't make mistakes. he would never lash out and hurt anyone. he would never-

once civilians are in the picture is the moment it clicks for him. and then we get this wonderful mirror that kills me to think about.

so many of the parallels in these fights (which. i dont feel like finding all of them) culminate in this. because ultimately, they are very similar conflicts. both represent the dissolution of their respective personas. confession arc is a crossroads in mob's brain: to spend the rest of his life restraining his powers and- by extension, his identity- for the sake of other people, or to let his powers run wild and push away all these people whom he sees as only liking the fake him ("mob").

the breaking point, murderous intent, the point at which this fight goes from simply trying to push the other way/push the other into fighting back, is the assertion of the other's normalness. teru pushes back with the violence of a commoner, mob pushes back with violence that can only be exerted by an esper. teru cannot accept his powers do not make him uniquely amazing, mob cannot accept his do not make him uniquely horrible- uniquely despicable- uniquely unlovable.

which brings us to heart eye panel.

because this is the moment that teru sees mob for who he truly is- for a human being with flaws who's capable of having ugly emotions and losing control and lashing out- and still loves him.

and through this teru, despite his uglier emotions, despite whatever he's done in the past, is a person who is capable of being loved. he doesnt need to be the best esper or the best at sports or the best in his class to stand out, to be paid attention, to form genuine connections.

the people close to you will love you despite your flaws, will understand when you're going through hard times, will offer support even when you push them away. they dont just love the perfect image of you you try to present, the non confrontational person who doesnt speak out for themselves, or the overachiever who's always good at everything. they love you.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

These Foolish Things 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, manipulation, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Thor

Summary: you're married to a man who isn't very good at hearing no.

Note: Here's our golden god.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Your eyes nearly cross as you squint at the endless columns. Your shoulders are almost at your ears, jaw locked, forehead furrowed as you try to unravel the riddle. You need to make cuts.

You reach for your coffee and spit it back into the cup as you find it cold and stale. You groan and put it down heavily. Blech.

A knock brings your gaze up but you stay rigidly hunched behind your screen. You explicitly told everyone not to disturb you. You growl, "come in."

"Sorry, ma'am," Priya, the intern, pokes her head through, "but you have a visitor."

"Not right--"

Before you can protest, she stumbles inside, out of the ray of the bouncing blond giant lumbering into your office. You sigh and sit up as your husband sweeps in with the scent of vanilla and the crinkle of a paper bag. You signal to Priya to go but she's too enamoured by the godly figure.

"My darling wife!" Thor proclaims, "I have brought you treasures."

Priya watches with a vacant look. You clear your throat, "Priya, if you will."

She flinches and finally tears her gaze from the Asgardian intruder. "Sorry, ma'am."

She flits out and Thor chuckles. He's certain to elbow the door shut as she goes. His blue eyes sparkle as you watch him placidly.

"Ma'am?" He shakes his head, "your highness."

He strides over and sets down a cup and bag before you, "lemon square and vanilla oat, special delivery."

"You are too sweet," you say. "Thank you."

"And you are tense," he turns your chair and grabs your shoulders, kneading them. "Your jaw is about to break."

You visibly ease the clench and force a smile, "it's the end of the fiscal."

"Oh, my queen, I do love when you speak of business," he purrs and pets your chin.

"Thor," you catch his large hands, "I'm sorry but I really can't--"

"Yes, I know, you have your duties," he slips free and cradles your face. "I only thought to bring some brightness to your day."

This time, you smile. For real. You're not a curmudgeon, you just get bogged down in the details. He's more of a bigger picture sort of person. He'll clean up the little things once he's blown them to bits.

"Nothing important," you assure him. "Not saving the universe or anything."

He chortles and bends to kiss you. There's longing in his lips. He growls and it rolls like thunder. You brush his beard as he reluctantly draws away.

"Hm, yes, well, you've lots of heroes around here," he backs up to fumble with your paper weight. A crystal dove. "I feel as if I've been forgotten."

"Oh, honey," you say. "I'm sorry, but we need you. It's just... they don't need you dealing with the small-timers."

"I could use the exercise," he huffs.

You turn back to your monitor, "me too. Too many lemon squares."

"Do not besmirch my own wife," he girds. You laugh and narrow your eyes at the faded font. "What is it? You are perturbed."

"Nothing, just," you try to angle your screen "the sun is reflecting on the spreadsheet."

"Ah, damned sun," he tuts and crosses his arms.

The office dims to grey and the sudden patter of rain hits the windows behind you. You look at him and tilt your head, "Thor, I don't have my raincoat."

"When is the last time you danced in the rain? It is good for the soul."

You shake your head. It was only with him that you did such ridiculous things.

"You always like the rain," he says.

"Yes, when I am at home with a good book," you retort.

"And that is how I prefer it too. Right in my lap--"

"Thor," you warn him and shift in your chair.

He laughs again and his blue eyes flare, "I miss you, my queen. I miss the taste of you."

"It's been..." you lean back and check your watch, "six hours."

"Far too long for an Asgardian," he tisks, "we get backed up."

"Tell me about it," you roll your eyes. "I don't think you are ever satisfied."

"With you, wife, always," he grins.

"Alright, I really need to get this done," you insist.

"You should not be so tense," he reproaches.

"I will not be once I get this over with."

"Let me ease you, my queen."

"I told you--"

"Ah, you may continue your work," he shows his large palm. "Let me just... tend to you."

He gets to his knees. Your eyes round. You shake your head and lock your knees together. You know exactly what he's thinking.

"If you think you can bribe me with coffee--"

"Bribe? Wife, I am claiming my husbandly rights," he puts his hands to the floor and crawls toward you, "so do not keep my prize from me."

"Thor!" You catch your voice before it can peak.

He growls again and grabs your calves. Why the hell did you wear a dress? His strength is too much. You barely put up a fight knowing he can overpower you.

He turns you, angling himself under your desk, quite comically as his large figure curls as small as it can. You brace the desk as he pulls you in and pries apart your knees. You yelp and smother your mouth.

"Go on and do your work," he bids as he pulls your skirt over his head.

You gnash your teeth around a reproach and clutch your mouse. You keep your other hand under your chin and blink at the monitor. His hot breath grazes the front of your panties. Your thighs quiver and he turns to kiss your tender flesh. You shiver and stretch your fingers up over your mouth.

He nuzzles you through the thin satin panties and you squirm. You bend your knuckle and bite it as he soaks through the fabric, lapping at it teasingly until it sticks to your folds. Finally, he traces a finger up your thigh and pulls aside the barrier between you. He delves into you without restraint.

You jolt in your chair and hiss through your teeth. Your eyes threaten to roll back as the lines of the spreadsheet blur. Goddamn this man. Always getting in your way.

[hottiesforhockey]

Congrats! Can i request the prompt "just go to bed" with joseph woll? Where they both stayed up way too late to the point where shes kind of delirious and doesnt realise how tired she is. And she just wont stop talking about special interests ans hobbies and he loves her so much and loves to listen to her talk but hes really tired too and is exasperated trying to get her to go to bed. I think that would so cute and funny!

Joseph leaned against the couch, his head lolling slightly to the side as he stifled a yawn. The soft glow of the lamp cast golden light over the living room, illuminating the mess of blankets and pillows strewn about from the movie they had abandoned hours ago. The clock on the wall blinked 3:42 AM, a silent reminder that they were well past the point of reason.

And yet, you kept talking.

Not that he minded.

He loved listening to you talk, especially when you got like this—animated, brimming with excitement, your hands moving as much as your mouth as you tried to explain something you were passionate about. Your eyes sparkled, even in your exhausted state, your words tumbling out faster than your brain could probably keep up with.

"—and it’s just so fascinating how they managed to preserve that, you know? Like, think about it! Thousands of years ago, people were already figuring out ways to record their stories, and here we are, still trying to understand them. It’s kind of poetic, don’t you think?"

Joseph hummed, barely holding onto consciousness as he rubbed a tired hand down his face. "Yeah, baby, it’s poetic." His voice was thick with exhaustion, but you didn’t seem to notice.

You were curled up next to him, legs tucked under you, one arm resting against his. The heat of your body was warm and comforting, and he didn’t want to move, didn’t want to pull away, even if his eyelids felt heavier than the world itself.

"And! And!" you sat up straighter, your enthusiasm somehow untouched by the late hour. "If you think about how much effort went into it—like, chiseling into stone, or weaving stories into tapestries—it’s kind of insane. Do you think they ever got hand cramps? Like, imagine being the guy who had to carve out a whole epic poem, and you’re just sitting there, chipping away, thinking, ‘Man, I should’ve been a farmer instead.’”

Joseph let out a soft laugh, turning his head to press his forehead against your shoulder. "You’re delirious," he murmured, voice slurred with sleep. "Go to bed."

"But I’m not tired!" you protested, despite the fact that you had been slurring some of your words just minutes ago.

Joseph sighed, lifting his head just enough to look at you. You blinked slowly now, fighting against the weight of exhaustion but still stubbornly clinging to the thread of conversation.

"Baby girl." His voice was patient, but laced with exasperation. "It’s almost four in the morning."

"Yeah, but—"

"Just go to bed."

"You go to bed."

"I’m trying to, but someone won’t stop monologuing about ancient storytelling techniques."

You gasped in mock offense. "Excuse you, this is an important discussion—"

"Uh-huh. And you’re going to have it with your pillow."

Before you could protest, Joseph shifted, gathering you up in his arms with an ease that made you squeak. "Wait, no, I wasn’t done—"

"Yeah, yeah, you can tell me all about it tomorrow," he said, carrying you toward the bedroom despite your weakening protests. You were clearly too tired to fight him properly, and by the time he set you down on the bed, you were already halfway to sleep, blinking up at him with a sleepy little frown.

"But it was interesting…" you mumbled, curling into the blankets as he climbed in beside you.

Joseph pulled you close, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "It was. You’re adorable when you ramble. But sleep first, history lesson later."

You let out a soft huff but didn’t argue, instead nestling against his chest with a content sigh. Within minutes, your breathing evened out, your stubborn fight against exhaustion finally lost.

Joseph smiled to himself, his arms tightening around you as he let sleep pull him under.

His dreams were filled with marble statues, ancient scrolls, and the sound of your voice passionately explaining history in the background.

He could listen to you talk forever, especially if it meant nights like this.

[xdanisgfx]

. . .‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ kisses for an angel‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ . . .

── .✦ p. daniela avanzini x gn!reader

── .✦ s. night time shenanigans with your girlfriend.

── .✦ cw. fluff, no use of pronouns referring to reader, reader gets called pretty

── .✦ wc. 1.4k

── .✦ div. cred. @toastray

── .✦ an. blonde dani i'll miss you so much 💔 anyways here's something short to remind yall that i also do written fics and also as an apology for missing from IRL for weeks LAWLLL

she may just be the most beautiful woman you've ever seen, sitting on your lap like that with the biggest smile splitting her face. her blonde curls tickle the tip of your nose, her hands cold from the air conditioning, just the perfect weight to be considered comfortable for you as she rests her head on your shoulder. your hands are torn between holding her hand and resting on her waist, so you opt for holding one and resting the other.

daniela's voice fades away into the background as you stare at her face like a lovestruck fool, pupils dilated and practically glowing with adoration for the woman in front of you. you smile and nod with every pause, hoping that she hadn't noticed that you'd already zoned out minutes ago.

but too late.

"y/n!" daniela exclaims, voice high-pitched with disapproval, hitting you softly on the shoulder. "are you sure you're listening to me?"

the one-sided staring contest from your end is broken when you blink. "uh... yes?"

"oh, really?" her eyes are lidded, unamused, disbelieving. arms crossed. smile gone and replaced by her lip pushed out in a barely visible pout.

"really..?"

"yeah? and so what did manon tell me again?"

"uhm." you're missing the soft skin of her hand warmed up inside yours. the emptiness she had left you with was instead brought up, to scratch the nape of your neck as you try to come up with a likely answer. "that you're... so undeniably gorgeous?"

she doesn't believe an ounce of it. why, it's obvious even to a brainless creature how you'd gone for flattery to get away, but you didn't mean to — you just really longed to go back to carving every inch of her face into the front of your skull, more important than all else and more permanent than a tattoo imbedded into your skin.

"you suck," the latina scoffs, but her tone contradicts her words. "you don't deserve my yapping, i hate you."

"aw, don't say that!" you whine, caging her back inside your arms as she attempts to get off of your lap. "you know you love me, don't you? of course you do."

"you suck," she says again, but there's a smile that comes with it.

you bury your face into her shoulder, squeezing her. you shift your leg a little to balance out the weight. "i'm sorryyyy. it's not my fault you're just so distracting to look at. tell me again, i'll listen this time, promise."

"well, now i forgot what i was even talking about." daniela huffs. she looks down at your head resting on her chest, at the arms pinning hers to her body, and now her bottom lip is trapped between her teeth. with a little effort she brings a hand up to pet your head lovingly, messing up your hair and eliciting a content hum from deep inside your chest.

you stay like that for a few minutes until you're aware of the absence of her response. you look up again, eyes meeting hers, and immediately you light up into a smile.

the stupid effect she has on you. makes you feel helpless but so, so much more special than everyone else.

she knows you're staring and so she stares back, moving closer ever so slowly to press your foreheads together, grinning.

"you're so pretty," you murmur, entranced. you couldn't stop yourself from pressing a feathery kiss to her forehead, watching proudly when she scrunches her nose up at the ticklish sensation that follows. "just beautiful."

and then you kiss each of her cheeks, pulling back dramatically after every one as if reloading another attack. and then it's her chin. and then across her hairline.

daniela is reduced into a giggling pile as you pepper her entire face with kisses, on every single freckle and beauty mark and mole. it's like having the constellations in your hands, so you take advantage of it, with all her laughs and snorts translating into otherworldly music in your ears.

it becomes a dance, all the squirming and kissing and squeezing. it becomes a dance of you trying to land your shot and daniela trying to avoid it while simultaneously chasing your lips with her own because you just wouldn't relent.

but the blonde whines suddenly, the smile gone. "you're just tickling me!" she complains.

you stop what you're doing, of course, only wanting to please her rather than the opposite. "i'm not tickling you, i'm showing my love and affection," you return. she only shakes her head and yanks her arms out of your grip, wrapping it around your neck instead.

"'showing love and affection' my ass. you won't even kiss me!"

"that's actually what i was doing, yes."

"you know what i mean! you're so annoying, and irritable, and despicable and preposterous and distasteful and- mmph!"

you don't allow her to list down a whole thesaurus anymore, finally giving in to her implicit request. she freezes for a little before she's smiling into the (proper) kiss, unintentionally interrupting it because it's too wide to bite back.

the warmth of you lingers on her face even as you pull away. "happy now?"

"i don't like you, you interrupted me."

your eyebrows crease. "i'm only doing what you want! god, it's so hard to please a princess."

she pinches the skin of your bicep. hard.

"ouch!" you yelp, palms flying away from her hips to rub circles over the offended spot. "geez, sorry! that wasn't even an insult!"

daniela narrows her eyes at you. "not an insult but a backhanded compliment."

"i would never hand out such derogatory statements," you gasp, still a little recoiled from the girl.

"liar."

"not."

"absolutely."

"not."

"still a liar," she decides. you disagree, it's clear from the shadow in your eyes, so she tweaks the statement a little. "a pretty liar, then."

"can't you just admit that you really like me and my presence?" you groan, leaning back in your swivel chair (which she occupies as well). the blonde latina looks smug, arms crossed, refusing.

she's stubborn, that daniela. "i would never show such weakness."

"and yet you're the one who's still on my lap, of all places. it's getting numb and you're still here."

that doesn't work. you always lose, in little banters like this. it's impossible to win against her. but then again it could also be because you're so vulnerable to her power. "alright then, i'll leave."

she slides off of your lap smoothly, and in three long strides plops down on the couch just beside. suddenly you're aware of how much of a comfort she'd been on top of you, and now you're missing everything about her — her weight, her warmth, her eyes and face — even though she sat a mere few feet away.

"wait, no, come back."

"nah, i think i like it here."

"why do you love to torture me so much?" defeated, you fall back into your chair once again, reclining and feigning death. your eyes close, only reminding you how tired you actually are, the feeling that had disappeared the moment your girlfriend had walked into the room to see you. but it was back.

a shadow casts over your face, shielding the yellowish glow of the lightbulb from you. a pair of hands start massaging your shoulders, pressing into just the right points that ache a little, but relief comes instantly after. "you're so dramatic."

daniela continues her gentle assault on your neck and shoulders, humming a soft tune under her breath. it's perfect, this, and you don't know whether you could appreciate her better through sight or sound or touch or scent.

"you're such an angel." your words come out slurred, sleepy. you don't get to see her roll her eyes in amusement at your state.

"and you sound drunk," she teases back, but she presses one last kiss on the crown of your head, anyway. "it's getting late, we should sleep."

"but... mrrrghh ngh..."

"what?"

"i want to look at you... a little more..."

"weirdo." she shakes her head fondly, shaking you out of the chair. "i bet you watch me sleep."

but she's the one who does, this time, watching your chest heave up and down in a steady rhythm, face devoid of emotion or worry lines or anything, really. daniela brushes a stray hair out of your face, hoping that you wake up earlier than her tomorrow so that she can be woken by kisses, everywhere. but hoping is useless because it happens every day anyway.

[assumptionprime]

Experience Boost is really special to me. I've never found anything else that so perfectly captures what it felt like to be part of that world.

Oh, thank you!

The most important thing when I started making XP Boost was to write a story about people playing an MMO. Not the story of the MMO’s plot, not a fanfiction in an MMO world, and not a story that was about people who happen to sometimes play an MMO. I felt/feel that there is something unique about MMOs as a game and shared social space, something worth telling stories about, and I’m really glad that there are people who feel the same way!

[nudityandnerdery]

Again, so it inconveniences you and you're in favor of making it a special criminal offense for it. And are okay with a system where businesses who don't have the personal patronage of the president- and possibly your personal patronage- are be seen as lesser. I mean, however you want to justify it, just acknowledge that's what you're doing.

I don't really expect you to change your position on this, I more reply to illustrate the general point:

This is how otherwise decent people slip their way into supporting an authoritarian rule. Not one big step that's easy to see. But a hundred small steps that are quiet and easy to justify. "Well, protests are inconveniencing me, so I support this particular policy." This is why it's very important to not just reject or accept a political point on reflex. Take time to step back and actually consider what it's doing, and why you're in favor of it.

Thanks for being today's demonstration, good luck in the future.

And I'm just gonna toss in that evergreen quote from Martin Luther King, Jr., from "Letter from a Birmingham Jail":

First, I must confess that over the past few years I have been gravely disappointed with the white moderate. I have almost reached the regrettable conclusion that the Negro's great stumbling block in his stride toward freedom is not the White Citizen's Counciler or the Ku Klux Klanner, but the white moderate, who is more devoted to "order" than to justice; who prefers a negative peace which is the absence of tension to a positive peace which is the presence of justice; who constantly says: "I agree with you in the goal you seek, but I cannot agree with your methods of direct action"; who paternalistically believes he can set the timetable for another man's freedom; who lives by a mythical concept of time and who constantly advises the Negro to wait for a "more convenient season." Shallow understanding from people of good will is more frustrating than absolute misunderstanding from people of ill will. Lukewarm acceptance is much more bewildering than outright rejection.

What an incredibly corrupt batch of bullshit this is. Literally making Tesla a target- is this part of pushing things until they can declare martial law?

[12amintoronto]

𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰 𝐚𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐭 ... omar marmoush 🩵

──────────────────────

wc: 2.0k

synopsis: headcanons in regards to what omar is like with you during it

contents: 18+ mdni - smut (obviously as per the title)

notes: i try to be good both during and outside the season of prayer, fasting and giving alms, my friends... but i cooked this up anyways. we are mere mortals who give into temptation... i hope you love it girls 🩵

──────────────────────

a ... aftercare ... what they’re like after sex

"habibti, mmh~ you okay?" omar would say, in a breathy voice as he's just finished giving you sex. he'd quickly get onto carefully scanning over you with his sight, ensuring you weren't showing any signs of discomfort.

"come cuddle, baby... let me hold you~" he'd whisper in the softest of tones. omar wraps you up in his strong arms. he'd probably reach for a sip of water from the nightstand, but he offers the glass to your lips first, giving you adorable pleading eyes

"mmmmhhh... ana bahebek~" he'd say, softly stroking your hair at a relaxed pace, over and over... relishing in your warmth and closeness, the skin to skin contact making it all the more special - "did i love you the way you needed, my love?"

b ... body part ... their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s

omar knows he's got it going on - wherever his muscles have definition that's where he can't stop looking at himself in the mirror. biceps, abs, pecs, back...

although your body is beyond beautiful to omar, he loves your face the absolute most. with the way your eyes can sparkle, lips can curl up into a smile, and blush tinge your cheeks, it gives him the best feeling because it's all in your face when you let him you he's making you feel loved.

c ... cum ... anything to do with cum, basically

omar loves how it looks when you let him cum on your belly - "ya allah..." he'd say in a sexy drawn out moan, looking at the stickiness on your stomach as he pulls back from missionary, kneeling in between your thighs as his big hands rub them softly.

d ... dirty secret ... pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs

omar often gets an erection unconsciously while he's watching you do certain things - when you step out of the shower, when you're cooking breakfast in just a cute robe. it's funny because he doesn't usually act on it though, so poor omar will watch you do your thing, while he's trying not to shift in a way that'll stimulate his cock... probably keeps a pillow on his lap and acts casual - he really tries to be good. he only gives it to you when both of your desires are clearly working in tune with one another.

e ... experience how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?

omar wasn't one to date as a teenager/adolescent guy... he was so invested in football and that only until he met you. you're his first time, yet he is such a natural.

f ... favourite position ... this goes without saying

omar loves giving you sex in missionary. the fact that he can pull you into a hug while his dick is inside you, and the way you wrap your legs around his waist while he's inside has him going... it's important to omar that he can admire your face, whether he's stroking strands of your hair out of the way, taking in your expressions, or even better, kissing you.

an honourable mention... sometimes omar will lift you up from underneath your thighs, as your arms are wrapped around his shoulders... and fuck you while he's standing up, and you're suspended in his arms.

g ... goofy ... are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.

omar is collected and focused on loving you right during sex, but there's always the occasional moment where he just looks right into your soul almost and it makes you laugh, and then he laughs too, going in for a kiss, and it even makes the two of you laugh when he bites you softly - he can be humorous not in the sense that something is explicitly funny, but it's the laughter that comes from the joy of being together. it's adorable.

h ... hair ... how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.

talking about his hair in that area? he's trimmed - not clean shaven, but neat.

i ... intimacy ... how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect

sex is sacred to omar. this is something he will wait until marriage to do. very very romantic. omar loves to kiss you, hold you in his arms, let you hold onto his body, and whisper sweet nothings to you while he's inside. he loves to stop for a second and take this all in.

he gets that sex is the furthest one can go with someone, and he takes his time with you because he loves you so much.

while omar's buried inside you in missionary, he will stay like that for a second. not thrusting. just resting... his lips brushing against yours though. like this, he speaks to you softly and reinforces your bond by whispering to you how he loves you so much and you're his everything, asking you what you want him to do. 🥺🩵

j ... jack off ... masturbation headcanon

omar is fond of mutual masturbation with you - even though his go to method to non penetrative sex is oral, he's always so mesmerized by the sight of you touching your own self.

he loves watching your fingers wrap around his shaft, just working him from base to tip. just as a little warm up.

k ... kink ... one or more of their kinks

omar's a vanilla boy for the most part, he doesn't need anything incredibly extravagant in addition to spice things up if he already has what he wants most - you.

he is one for praising you - imagine him with his sultry egyptian accent close to your ear, whispering to you ; "you look so pretty taking me like this, habibti~"

l ... location ... favorite places to do it

in the bedroom... early morning as the sun filters through the windows at its brightest. omar loves to unravel your naked body from the bed sheets, admiring how the sun kisses your bare skin.

on the sofa in the living room... that's for later at night, the both of you watching a film with the lights low and warm, quickly escalating once you guys slip into a makeout... ending up with you straddling him, riding his dick... while he lays back with his legs parted, watching you.

m ... motivation ... what turns them on, gets them going

when you guys are sharing such an intimate moment that you are feeling vulnerable and comfy with him enough to let out your sultry side... saying things to him that make him bite his bottom lip as he envisions what you want. think makeout sessions that go on for a bit too long - you end up straddling his thigh, grinding on it... and once he pulls back to catch his breath, both of you guy's lips just slightly swollen from kissing intensely, he'll give you this nod that tells you everything.

n ... no ... something they wouldn’t do, turn offs

omar would never even think about doing anything that could hurt you.

o ... oral ... preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.

oh, omar lives in between your thighs. he'll eat your pussy like you wouldn't believe. he doesn't just lick - he uses his entire mouth on you - "lie back, sweetie... this is my treat to you" he'll say, kissing your lips, and before you know it, you're writhing as he sucks and alternates between flicking his tongue against you, then giving you a languid, long lick. he wants to eat you out well enough to the point where he can make you squirt, wetting his beard.

he never says no if you wanna suck his dick - if you're a pro at it, lovely, but if you just wanna giggle at him and look at him with doe eyes while swirling your tongue over his tip, licking along his length? he just watches you, fingers laced together as his hands are behind his head, with the biggest smile. "mmh... this view is so perfect, habibti."

omar LOVES when you tangle your fingers through his curls while he eats your pussy.

p ... pace ... are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.

for the most part in all of your sessions, omar will prioritize making that beautifully slow love to you, but his passion can range brilliantly. 80% of a round with omar consists of slow deep strokes.

slow sensual sex with omar doesn't always have to be perfectly calculated. he loves fucking you lazily, too, just enjoying the moment, drinking in every bit of what's happening.

but that other 20%, he gets that bout of energy - "you want this faster, baby? harder? mhm?" - he's relentless, claiming you, breathing heavily.

q... quickie ... their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.

eh. omar prefers to have as much time in the world to kill when it comes to pleasing you.

r... risk ... are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.

he wants to know how far you wanna go. even then, he's still checking up on you. interested in a new position where you'll feel him REAL deep? or if you have to get really flexible? best believe he's taking this bit by bit - "just let me know habibti... tell me if it feels good... if it's too much."

s ... stamina ... how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?

he's a footballer so lorddd he can go ON. omar can definitely cum a few times in a row before his body is telling him it's time to recover... but recovery is QUICK. if you guys had finished just a half hour ago and are cuddling, and you sublty grind against him - "mmmh, you need another round, habibti? no problem..."

t ... toys ... do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?

nah, he doesn't feel the need for any... you guys have got each other!

u ... unfair ... how much they like to tease

omar's so good at teasing you. of course he wants to give you your pleasure straight up... but your reactions are adorable to him.

imagine he's teasing the entrance to your pussy with the head of his cock. "i just want to hear you say it, habibti..." he doesn't keep it up for an extended period of time though.

v ... volume ... how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.

omar's moans are between the two of you to hear... and it might be the hottest thing you've ever heard. for no one else to hear but you, his beloved.

every time his cock slips out of you... he holds you close to him and his lips hover above yours, and he moans alongside you as he slowly, slowlllyyyy slides it back inside you - "ya allahh... you feel this, my love?"

w ... wild card ... a random headcanon for the character

omar wants to make things of this sort such an out-of-this-world experience for you, that he'd literally get his hands on the kama sutra and pencil a star beside the positions that he tries with you that you tell him are your favourite.

x ... x-ray ... let’s see what’s going on under those clothes

his size is just right... with just a littlleee bit more making his length above average, and he's thick enough that it does take a minute for you to adjust... but the pain fades away and becomes pleasure so fast.

y ... yearning ... how high is their sex drive?

omar is always obsessed with you, and is such a man madly in love... but the moment means everything to him. he will only want it if you want it... but when he is in the mood, he is locked in.

z ... zzz ... how quickly they fall asleep afterwards

considering omar's very impressive stamina, it's not like he will always fall asleep very easily. often times, you will fall asleep in omar's arms after your first or second orgasm, and he will just stay awake and watch over you admiring your serene expression, holding you, playing with your hair, and kissing your hair. but he'll find it so relaxing if you guys do it in bed at night that he will just fall asleep into the next day with you.

[wisteria-lodge]

I've seen a theory floating around that the Fantastic Beasts film was repurposed from a scrapped Doctor Who movie script and I was curious for your take.

In the early 2010s, there were plans for a Doctor Who film to expand the franchise, offering a fresh entry point new fans with focuse on courting an American audience. David Yates was in talks to direct or produce, and the Eleventh Doctor’s planned encounter with the Master was saved for the movie. However, the project fell apart due to Matt Smith’s early departure, Steven Moffat’s workload (Doctor Who, Sherlock, & Tintin), and declining interest from the BBC. Instead, Doctor Who marked its 50th anniversary with a feature-length special.

Enter Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. Despite being credited as the sole writer, J.K. Rowling had no screenwriting experience. At the time, she was focused on her detective novels, while Yates played a major role in Fantastic Beasts’ unusually fast development. The film’s protagonist—a quirky, pacifist British traveler with a bigger-on-the-inside case, a love for strange creatures, and two companions—closely resembles Doctor Who. The villain even has a transformed face.

It seems likely that Yates repurposed the abandoned Doctor Who script, handing it to Rowling to rework as a Harry Potter spinoff. While the first Fantastic Beasts had some structure, the sequels—written solely by Rowling—were poorly received, probably due to her lack of screenwriting experience.

Obviously there is no way to know for sure, but this theory honestly holds up for me. The dates line up. The studio politics line up. David Yates is there both times. According to Karen Gillian, Johnny Depp was attached to the Doctor Who movie - and if he *stayed* attached as it was retooled into Fantastic Beasts, that would help explain what is easily the most baffling casting decision in the whole franchise. Even people who liked Fantastic Beasts thought Johnny Depp was a bizarre Grindelwald. It is so obviously a role that wants a Colin Farrell or a Mads Mikkelsen.

Jacob is also SUCH a Doctor Who companion - normal guy, dead end job, swept away into magical adventures. He's really not a very JKR-ish character because... well... she doesn't write sympathetic muggles. Her muggle characters are villains, ridiculous (or both.) Or else exist totally off-page. Her most sympathetic muggle character is probably Frank Bryce - who is bad tempered, crotchety, and not very interesting. This is honestly kind of a structural problem: if your villain's main point is "wizards are better than muggles," I think you'd want to prove him wrong by writing muggle characters who don't suck.

But Doctor Who loves a normie protagonist who teaches the Doctor an important lesson about community, or responsibility, or love. That is 100% Jacob. There are also elements of Fantastic Beasts 1 that feel... pretty tonally off for a Harry Potter movie? I'm thinking specifically of the Death Cell execution room. That whole scene - the way it's designed and shot - it's all extremely horror movie. That's fine for Doctor Who, which has always had horror DNA. But Harry Potter doesn't. It also doesn't really make sense as a sanctioned government execution room, it makes sense as the sort of creepy, uncanny trap the Master would put the Doctor in. If Universal developed cool/expensive assets for Doctor Who, I think it's totally possible that they would be motivated to recycle them into Fantastic Beasts.

It also explains why Fantastic Beasts 2 (which would have been JKR's original work) immediately un-does a lot of the plot elements from Fantastic Beasts 1. The bittersweet moment of Jacob losing the memories of his adventure, but keeping his unlocked creativity and hope, that's such a Doctor Who ending. So is that moral-quandary moment of 'is there a way to stop this monster, who is both an danger to others and an innocent, without destroying it.' But in Fantastic Beasts 2, within the first ten minutes Jacob has his memory back and we hear that Credence is fine. Also... Jacob gets a wand in Fantastic Beasts 3. And it's not a "real wand" or whatever... but like, if the series continued, it was going to do something. (Because JKR doesn't like writing muggle protagonists.)

I will also say that in Fantastic Beasts 1 - information is delivered visually, film language is better understood, it has a good sense of its own scope. It's a filmmaker's movie, while Fantastic Beasts 2 is a writer's movie. It's got a million characters, tons of scenes of characters in a room or hallway just *talking* to each other (which is less interesting to watch than it is to read.) Important plot beats are delivered through monologs or extended flashback sequences. The pacing is much, much worse. The action sequences are much more confusing.

Okay. Fantastic Beats 1 could have been made out of assets originally developed for Doctor Who, and by some of the same creative team. Yeah. I see it.