#lmao @ me for getting into a series with eleven and stopping watching with eleven | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dckweed · 2 years ago

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hello my loves, it's been a while since my last part for this series, and i just want to remind yall that these are going total AU, against the plot of stranger things and are totally going off of my own plots/imagination.

I know originally I was planning on only doing four but i think i might possibly turn it into five, y'all don't know this about me yet, but you'll soon find out that i can't leave good enough alone lmao, my brain goes wild i swear. im sorry these are taking so long, and im sorry that i havent gotten any new requests out yet, i honestly just haven't had the motivation!

anyway, i give you part three of the billy installment:

part one , part two

warnings: MINORS SAFE TO READ! mentions of trauma, mentions of abuse of children, billy being completely head over heels for reader, reader being a total love drunk brat for billy, papa hop goes mad bear..billy being a decent big brother

"..DADDY, PLEASE!.." billy hargrove x female!hopper!reader

Billy had stuck around that day, and for several days after, your father had made it very clear that he was welcome in the house, that he accepted the two of you being together, it made him feel comfortable, like he didn't have to hide anything.

He loves that the two of you could do something as simple as sit on the couch together now. While your father worked at night, the two of you had stayed up on the couch watching old movies, it was probably one of his favorite moments, and it made him smile to think of it. you had sprawled out on the couch, your head in his lap and he had just sat there, leaned against the cushions with his hand playing in your hair for hours as he listened to you laugh at the corny lines coming from the television set.

He looked down at you occasionally, the light from the television coloring your face as it played. He couldn't help but smile lovingly at you and imagine himself in a few years down the road with you, maybe married and in your own home..he wanted to take you to california to see where he was at his happiest, hell he even had thoughts of you with a couple of little ones running around, you round and pregnant, another on the way.

fuck, he thought, i really am in love with her..he couldn't help but smile at the thought though. The night had ended with you falling asleep in his lap, carefully he scoops you up and stands, carrying you gently to your new bedroom.

He had kissed your head gently when he laid you down, covering you up with your comforter. He had gone home when he knew his father wasn't there and had grabbed a few pieces of clothes, you wore his tshirt and he couldn't help but admire it. He sighed, grabbing his keys off of your dresser. He couldn't help but feel a sense of dread wash over him, he didn't want to leave, he felt safe here with you and your father, hell he even liked your sister, she was weird but he thought she was cool. he knew he needed to go back though, Max could only over for him for so long.

Reluctantly he gives you a longing stare from your doorway, flipping the light off before closing your door, he even poked his head in on Eleven, who was sound asleep, before making his way to the front door and out to his car.

It was a long and quiet drive home, during which he smoked more cigarettes than he probably should have. He sat in his drive way for a few minutes, his nerves getting the best of him before he opened the door and made his way up to the porch, sliding his key into the lock.

"Well," He heard from the dark, his heart immediately starting to race in fear. He closed the door, knowing there was no turning back now, he had already walked into the lions den. "look who finally decided to come home from the whore's house."

:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:

You were sound asleep, the early hours of the morning still dark and quiet, peaceful even, though that didn't stop you from waking up with a start, wondering if the noise you'd heard was in your sleep or if it had actually happened. You glanced over at the clock, it was just past midnight and Billy wasn't beside you, you knew he must have finally gone home.

You were just about to lay back down when you heard the sound again, a heavy pounding on the front door of your small house. Startled, you jump before you realize the urgency in it and hear a muffled call from outside. Quickly you rise to your feet, swinging your legs over the side of your bed and onto your rug covered floor, not bothering to stop and get your slippers or but on bottoms besides the panties you're wearing, it's not like Billy's shirt didn't cover everything anyway.

Eleven is poking her head out of her doorway as you rush by, looking at you confused. "Stay there." You say, the pounding coming again, it sounded like two fists and you still couldn't make out the voice. Quickly you rush through the living room, skirting around the small coffee table and turn the locks on the door, throwing it open just as the person raises their hand to knock.

"Billy?!" You ask, squinting into the dark. The porch light wasn't on but you could make out his face from the shadowy light of the moon. You see a dark mark on his face, and a panicked looked about his features, you scan the rest of his body with urgency, your eyes widening in surprise. "Max?!"

The girl had blood dribbling from her nose and lip, a small cut on her cheek as well and one of her eyes looked red and swollen. Quickly, horrified, you pull both of them in, the girl looks like she can barely stand on her own, Billy the one supporting her. You lead her to the couch and set her down, Billy just stands behind you, fidgeting nervously with his hands, running them through his hair several times.

"He hit her, he hit her and i didn't know what else to do or where else to go but I couldn't just leave her there she doesn't deserve that.." You hear him say, his voice thick with emotions. You knew that he and Max weren't the friendliest with each other, but you also knew that deep down Billy would never let anything happen to her, and you knew that he must be eating himself alive on the inside for this. "And it's all my fault.." The moment ran through his mind as he paced nervously, trying not to look at his stepsister laying on the couch, half conscious.

"She's not a whore dad," He had said, his voice cool though his blood boiled with rage. How dare he call you a whore, you, sweet and loving Y/N, how dare he even suggest that.

He hears him scoff, hears the lamp in the living room click back on. "She's a whore if I say she's a whore." He says, standing from the chair, his body shadowed by the dim light of the lamp glowing behind him as he stalked closer. "She's probably such a fucking whore that you got her knocked up huh? That's why youve been staying with her, is that it? Hm, Billy?"

Billy clenched his jaw, he couldn't let him talk about you like this. "Shut your fucking mouth." He had growled, his father stopped just before him, stunned by his son's words. He was angered though, he could tell by the way his body tensed and he braces himself for it, the impact of the first closed fisted blow, feel his cheek cut open as his father's ring scraped across the skin. He felt the blood drip down his face and slowly he turns his head to look at his father lips pursed.

"That knock some fucking sense into you?" His father asks, hands raised as if to go again. Billy snaps, he's fucking had enough. Why would he even come back here when he so obviously had a home with you and your family. Fuck, he was stupid for leaving. With a yell he lunges forward, fists flying. He catches the man in the face, connecting with his jaw, and then his eye, trying to knock him down. He trips over the rug in the living room after rushing the man backwards and his father takes it to his advantage, savagely beating his son as he kicks and stomps every inch of him that he can get his foot on.

Billy is curled in, trying to protect himself, he feels something snap in his side and he knows that something is broken. He yells in pain, trying to wrap is brain around how to get out of it, fuck, he didn't want to die this way, and with the way his father was going? He was surely trying to end his life.

He hears a door open, and footsteps come down the hallway. "Stop it!" He hears a voice yell, his father tells them to shut up and doesn't falter in the least on his barrage of kicks, landing a few good stomps to the back of his head. Billy can barely see from the pain at this point and groans. "Leave him alone! You're killing him!"

Suddenly, between his arms covering his face, he catches a glimpse of the long red hair flying, her legs wrapping around his father's waist as she tries to knock him backwards. It works, though only momentarily. The man stumbles, thrashing about as he tries to knock his stepdaughter off. Billy doesn't miss his chance, he clambers to his feet, his body groaning and burning with pain he hadn't felt before, but he stands anyway, tall and proud, arms raised to fight.

After merely a moment, his father knocks the girl off, turning around. Billy hears the sickening sound of his hand connecting with the girls face, smacking her hard enough to send her flying into the coffee table. He could see the blood already, he knew she would have a black eye.

"I told you to stay the fuck out of it, girl." His father sneers, looking down at her menacingly. "Now look at what you've done, guess I need to teach you some respect too, huh?"

Max groans, and Billy knows she's at least conscious. He looks over to her, watching his father turn back to him. "Leave her the fuck alone dad, this is between you and me." He grinds out, looking back at her as she starts to stand. "Maxine, get your ass up and go get in my car..you're not staying here."

He sees the girl stagger slowly to her feet, stumbling to the wall and leaning against it for support. Her upper head was bleeding, she must've hit it on the table. She nears the door, and his father with his chest heaving opens his mouth to yell at her, starting to move towards her. He manages to get his hand in her hair, yanking her backwards before slamming her head into the wall. "Don't you fucki-" He's cut short by Billy connecting with his middle, tackling him to the ground. They crash through the coffee table that Max had landed on, it breaks at the force of their weight, but it gives Billy the upper hand as he connects his fist to his father's face, repeatedly punching the man, one of his hands clutched tightly to his shirt to keep him from moving, he's bought Max enough time to get out.

After a few moments the man is clearly stunned, and Billy stops, letting his head drop as he lets go of his shirt. The man groans as Billy stands to his feet, staggering as he backs away, making his way to the door. "That knock some fucking sense into you, dad?" He sneers, mocking the man as he leaves the living room, slamming the front door closed behind him.

His vision is blurred, and he's unsteady on his feet when he gets into the car, but he looks over at the girl, his little sister as much as he hated it, and he knew he had to go. He reached over, letting his hand rub her hair, she was leaning against the glass, groaning. "You're gonna be okay, I promise I won't ever let him do that to you again..I'm so sorry, Max..so so sorry.." He says, taking his hand away from her head to start the car, punching on the gas to get them as far away as quickly as he could.

"Jesus Christ, Billy.." You breathe, listening to him talk. He looked worse than Max, and your only instinct was to take care of him but you could see how worked up he was over the girl, flinching every time he looked at her. You had El go get you some supplies from the bathroom and kitchen, a damp rag to clean up her face some ice for the bruised eye that was beginning to puff up.

It took only a few minutes to get her taken care of, and shes asleep before you even finish, though you know it's from her injury rather than actual tiredness. You order Eleven to sit with her, to keep an eye on her, tell her what to do incase she throws up before you make your way to Billy, who is still pacing, muttering about how it was his fault.

You step in front of him, and gently you grab his hands, squeezing them in yours and he stops, meeting your eyes. You see the emotion in them, and you can do nothing as you watch them well with tears. God, Billy Hargrove deserved so much fucking better than that piece of shit father of his. "Come, Billy, let's go to my room okay?"

Slowly you make your way to your room. You sit him on the bed, helping him adjust himself so he's leaned again the head board as you climb onto his lap, legs on either side of his thighs as you take his face in your hands, giving him a long, gentle kiss.

His hands go to your waist and you feel his body that was shaking from adrenaline, or maybe fear start to calm. He sighs when you pull away, his eyes closed. You sit up, taking in the damage to his face. You can just barely make out bruising in his hair line, and you hope that his whole head isn't bruised if it was true that his father had kicked him that brutally. His cheek is cut, not horribly deep. It's something you can easily take care of and you take some of your supplies and get to work, Billy's hands still on your waist, gripping you ever so tightly every once in a while.

Once you're finished you straiten up, he opens his eyes and looks at you, almost startled by the movement. He had slowly been falling asleep, your presence and your soothing, gentle hands working on him having lulled him in to a relaxed state. "I'm sorry baby," You say, giving him a small smile. "I need to take your shirt off.." Slowly, gently you raise the hem of his white undershirt, the only thing he had on, and you lift it up over his head and arms that he had helpfully raised for you, despite the pain.

You hiss out a breath, flinching at the sight of his torso. Every inch of his skin was one giant bruise, his entire torso covered in angry reddish-purple marks, more starting to blossom. You ran your hands over his chest and stomach, feeling him tense and grunt at the sensation. "Oh my god, Billy.." You moan, your eyes welling up with tears. How could someone do this to their own child, someone they were supposed to love and protect, to give life not try and take it? You didn't think you'd ever get the answer.

Billy watches you, his heart welling farther with the love that he so deeply felt for you as he watched you fuss and get emotional over his injuries. He knew then that he was really going to marry you, you were the only good thing to come out of Hawkins, you were his future, his reason to live. He couldn't wait to put a ring on your finger, just the thought of it had him going crazy on the inside. "That wasn't exactly the way I planned to have you moaning that tonight.." He smirks half heartedly, trying to ease the tension settling in the room. He didn't like seeing you this upset, especially over him, but he loves that you cared for him that much.

You chuckle, trying to hide a sniffle behind it as you wipe your eyes, bringing your hands back down to his body, this time going gently over his sides. He yells loudly in pain when you just barely brush over one of his ribs. His hands squeeze your hips tightly and he groans as he breathed through the blinding pain brining through his torso. You lean down, getting a closer look. You can just barely make out the break through his skin, nothing that one or two of his ribs were caved in just the slightest bit.

"Holy shit, Billy..he broke them." You say, your eyes welling with tears again. You didn't know what to do, but you knew he wouldnt want to go to the hospital, and you didn't want to take him without your father in case the abusive man showed up. You cleaned him up as best as he could, rubbing some muscle cream over his torso in hopes that he wouldnt be so sore, and after a while, once youve wrapped some large gauze around his middle as tightly as he could without hurting him, to help splint his rib cage, you get up.

"Come on, you ought to lay down, love.." You whisper, taking his hand as you help him slide down into the bed, gently taking off his boots and his pants for him before you cover him up with your comforter. "Let me go get you some aspirin, okay? Helps with swelling.."

You turn to leave but his hand stops you, you glance at him as he pulls you to him, pulling you downwards. He brings his hand up, grunting as he moves his ribs and brings it to the back of your head, pushing you down so that your lips meet his in a slow, passionate embrace. "I love you,Y/N.." He whispers when he pulls away, releasing you as well.

"I love you too.." You whisper back, kissing his forehead every so gently before rushing off to the kitchen in search of aspirin. By the time you make it back, he's already snoring loudly, head turned to the side on your pillows. You watch him for a moment, giving him a small affectionate smile as you set the medicine and water down in the coffee table.

You go back out to the living room. Glancing at the clock. "Dad will be home soon, I'm going to wait outside for him, okay?" You ask, going to start a pot of coffee in the kitchen, pulling your hair back.

"Y/N," You hear your sisters small voice, she was say next to her friend, tears brimming in her eyes as she looked up at you. You smile at her. "What's going to happen to them?"

"I don't know, for right now..they'll stay here, Dad won't let them go back, and I won't let him let them go back..he could have killed Billy.." You say, scooping the amount of coffee grounds you liked into the coffee maker. "He could have killed her, look at what he did with just a smack." You should have had his father taken care of a long time ago, you didn't want to interfere but now you didn't have a choice.

The water starts boiling and you hear it spurt out, watching as it turns the coffee grounds in to the hot, dark liquid you so desperately craved in this moment; you breathed in the aroma.

"Is she going to be okay?" She asks, coming to stand in the doorway of the kitchen as you lean against the counter. She had on a baggy sleep shirt and some sweat pants, she looked tired with her hair a mess. "Will Billy be okay?"

You give her a stiff nod, though you weren't too sure about Billy, he really needed to go to the hospital, you worried some of the bruising might have been from internal bleeding. "They'll be okay, Max will probably just have a bad bruise, maybe a mild concussion.." You say, pouring yourself a mug of the coffee as it stops brewing, blowing on it gently. "Billy..is a lot worse, his entire stomach is nothing but one big bruise..and his ribs are broken, and i think his scalp is bruised."

You could tell your sister wanted to cry, but you walked over to her and held her against your body. "They'll be okay, El, dad isn't going to let them leave." You say, reassuring her.

After a bit you make your way outside, you had put on some sweatpants to help combat the chilly air but the mug of coffee in your hands helped more than enough. You knew it was nearing four thirty, you had called in asked him to come home early and he had asked you to give him an hour. You did tell him why, all you'd said was that it was important.

True to his word, you heard the tires of his truck hit the gravel of the drive and saw his headlights flicker through the bushes. You stood from your position on the steps, raising the mug to your face as he parks the car, looking at him gravely as he gets out of the car.

"What's wrong?" He asks, noticing your face as he grabs his shot gun, he didn't like leaving it in the car. "Who died?..did someone actually die?" You sigh, turning to go up the steps, letting him follow you.

"Someone could have died.." You say under your breath, opening the front door quietly so as not to wake up Billy or Max. Jim sees her instantly, his mouth dropping open as he gives you a pointed look. Eleven sits next to her still, on high alert.

"Jesus, what happened?" He asks, looking down at her sadly. He didn't want to ask, but he had a feeling who had done it. "Is Billy here?"

You nod. "Yeah, and she's in a lot better shape than him." You say quietly, leading him down the hallway. The two of you stop in your open doorway, your bedside lamp the only thing illuminating the small room. Your dad's boots cause the floor to creak and Billy shifts in his sleep, groaning at the sound and the movement.

Jim steps in, inching closer to the bed as quietly as he could. He could see the bruises peeking out of the gauze wrapped around his torso, the cut on his cheek, he could even make out the bruising in his hairline. He turns to look at his daughter, "Jesus Christ, Y/N.." He whispers, looking back down at the boy.

"He broke his ribs, dad..I think he was trying to kill him, both of them..Max tried to stop it." You go into the details that Billy had told you, explaining to him how savagely his own father had beaten, how he had stomped on his head and the rest of his body with as much force as he could. How he had managed to get back up to save his sister, whom he had promised to never let it happen again. You told him the guilt he felt that the girl had been involved in the first place, you told him how he had been shaking in what you thought was fear until you finally got him in your arms, able to calm him down.

He was quiet for a moment, as he looks at Billy and back out towards the hallway. You can tell by the look in his that he's made his mind up about something, and fearing the worst you start babbling immediately.

"You can't send them back, daddy please, he's going to kill them and you know it." You say, pleading with your father to listen to you, tears in your eyes at the thought of having to send Max back, Billy was eighteen, he could do whatever he wanted, same as you, but Max? You were afraid that this opened a whole new world of hurt for her if you allowed her to walk back through the front door of that house.

You father puts one of his large hands on your shoulders, trying to calm you down. "Honey, I'm not letting them go back. It goes against my entire oath of I do." He says and you relax. "Here's what's going to happen, you did a good job, but they both need to go to the hospital so they can document the injuries as evidence against his father, ill call in to the station, get a couple ambulances out here, you're going to go with them, okay?"

You nod vigorously, happy that he saw your logic. Your father may seem like a rough asshole at times, but you knew he had the biggest soft spot in the world when it came to people who needed him, and those two? They needed him more than anything. "What about you?"

He cocks his shot gun with one hand, let a barrel into the chamber, he held a dangerous gleam in his eyes that you weren't totally sure you were fond of. "I'm going to pay Mr. Hargrove a visit."

:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:

The ambulances came within half an hour, your father had already been gone upon their arrival having called it into the station before heading straight out the door, making sure his pistol and the shotgun were loaded in case Billy's father tried to get violent with him, not that he couldn't swat the man away with a flick of his wrist, but he'd rather have the fire power.

You let them into the house, telling Eleven to go back to her room. They took Max first, she was semi conscious, coherent enough to tell them her name and how old she was when they asked, and where it hurt the most. You watched them move her onto the stretcher and wheel her out, helping the next set of paramedics to your room with the stretcher as they came.

Billy was still passed out when they arrived, and quickly they had determined him unconscious upon trying to rouse him from sleep. One of the men turned to you as you tried to stay calm, what if you had waited too long?

"Honey, can you tell us his name?" He asks gently, stepping closer to you in the doorway as you watched his partner look him up and down, using his hands to check his bones. "Do you know what happened?"

You sniffle, watching tearfully. "His name is Billy, and the same thing that happened to his stepsister, only worse." You said, trying not to cry as you thought about it. "He um..he kicked the shit out of him..his entire stomach is nothing but one big bruise..maybe some of it from bleeding i don't know..his ribs are broken..and his entire scalp is bruising too..he said his father stomped on it." You said, the man nods once, his body tensing at your words. "He's eighteen if you need to know.."

He goes back to the bed to help his partner and they pull down the blankets, his partner points at the gauze around him and looks at you. "You do this?" You nod, hugging your arms to your body. He smiles at you. "Good work, smart girl..you clean up his face too?"

They checked him for a few more minutes before slipping an orange spinal board under him, just Incase his father kicked him hard enough to hurt his spine or neck, before they moved him to the stretcher, fastening him to it.

You see Eleven peek out of her door as they pass and you tell her to stay in her room, that you're going to go with them and to make sure to lock the door behind you as you shove your feet into your sandals and run after them.

The whole time in the ambulance, watching him lay there as they hooked him to different machines and asked you more questions, the only thing that you could think about was how much it pained you to know that he had lived like this, how much you loved him and wanted him to be safe with you and how much you wanted to hold him in your arms forever, you'd never thought about it before but you could definitely see yourself marrying him. You wouldn't tell him that, terrified that it would scare him off.

Everything happened so fast by the time you guys got to the hospital, you sat in the waiting room for a couple of hours, your father eventually joining you just as the sun started to peak high into the sky.

"Any news on them?" He asks quietly, he had changed from his work uniform so you knew he had to have stopped by the house. "Billy going to be okay?"

You shrug, emotional after having been left alone with your thoughts for so long. "He fractured his skull, dad..he's in surgery right now, they said he had a small internal bleed, they're trying to stop it and make sure nothing else is wrong." You choke out a sob, and your father engulfs you in his arms. You stay for a few moments, trying to calm yourself down, you could tell he was angered by the words and you couldn't blame him. "Max has a mild concussion, and he bruised her eye pretty good. She's awake and fine, but they're going to keep her a day or so they said."

"Good, that's good.." Jim breathed, relieved that the younger girl was okay, Eleven had asked repeatedly about her when he had come home to change. "I took care of their father for the time being, i made him pack up all of their clothes and things and then i arrested him, he's down at the station right now, and i dropped off their things at the house." You nod, giving his hand a squeeze as you reached for it, a silent thank you. "Eleven is unpacking Max's stuff, but I thought I'd let you and Billy handle his stuff."

You're about to answer when you're interrupted by a doctor stopping in front of the two of you, hands in his white coat. "Miss Hopper?" You look up at him, eyes hopeful. He gives you a small smile. "Your young man is going to be just fine, surgery went well and we stopped the bleed. He'll need to stay a few days or so to make sure nothing more happens, especially with his head injury."

You smile, happy years running down your face as you let out a choked noise. Your father squeezes your hand. The doctor smiles again. "He's awake, and he's quite insistently asking after you, you may go see him if you'd like, he's in the first room on the left, just around the corner, his sister as well." You don't say a word as you stand and rush to the door, running down the hallway. "To be young and feel a love like theirs.."

You find the room and rush in, moving the small privacy curtain out of your way. He lays in the bed closest to the window, Max in the one by the door. He looks up as you run in and you see his face change immediately as he holds his arms up to you. "Oh my god, Billy I thought you were going to die when they said you were bleeding inside.." You say, blubbering everywhere, your face a mess of tears and admittedly, some snot. "You were in surgery for so long I thought something bad had happened and i started panicking because how can the world take you from me right now?" You didn't know what you were saying, too focused on his hands cupping your face.

Billy made his mind up right then and there. He was going to marry you, maybe not soon, maybe a couple years down the road, but he was ready to ask you. He brushes your tears away with his thumbs, rubbing them under your eyes as you sniffle and try to calm down. He gives you a smile, despite the pain blooming through his body. "Hey, babygirl, im not going anywhere, not yet..you're stuck with me for a long, long time." He says quietly, not even caring that Max was seeing him like this. You nod at him, smiling. "I love you..now, kiss me you goof." You do as told, giving him a long, sweet kiss, though you pull away, trying not to lean on him too much. He sighs. "Now I'm happy.."

You chuckle, wiping your nose before looking over to the left, Max was slowly sliding off the bed, hospital gown tied around her. She shuffled over to the two of you. "Hey, how are you feeling?" You ask, but she goes right past you.

You watch her lean over Billy and engulf him in an awkward hug, her head on his chest as she tried not to press on him too much. Billy looks uncomfortable, unsure of what to do for a few moments but eventually he relaxes and brings a hand up to rub the back of her head. "I'm okay, kid..and it's honestly probably because of you so..thank you, Max.."

You thought the moment was sweet, and you were glad that the two seemed to be bonding, though it bothered you that it took the two of them being beaten to do it. You open your arms for her next, and she squeezed you tight. "Hey, you guys don't have to go back there okay? My dad arrested him, and he packed up all of your things..you'll be staying with us for now.." She squeezed you tighter a minute before letting go and going back to her bed.

You share a look with Billy. "You look tired." He says, a small tug at his lips. "Give me another kiss and then go home, okay? You need to rest.." You don't argue, you're just glad that he's okay. You do as he says, you give him another kiss, a longer one this time and you even give Max a peck on the head too. "Y/N.." You look at him over your shoulder, eyebrows furrowed. "..can you send your dad in? I need to talk to him."

Your dad seems surprised, but goes as told. You wait for him in the waiting room, pacing.

Jim makes his way to the room, poking his head in. "You look like shit." He says, stepping in. Billy chuckles, but winces. "Bet that hurts, I'm sorry." He stands in front of the bed, giving a small smile to Max, who is busy trying to figure out the television.

"Sir, I know you probably think it's too soon, and maybe it is, but.." He takes in a deep breath, and Jim puts his hands on his hips, he had a nervous feeling about this. "..I want to marry your daughter.."

@dakotazzzzz @annoyingexboyfriend @ttsbaby01 @rainwritesworld-deactivated2022 @angelbbygrl @peakascum @choclate32 @meltedcandiedacid @variety-fangirl @floreoo @miaivy @gloryekaterina @queenjayrogue @fluffyhairobsessed

#stranger things #stranger things smut #stranger things s2 #hopper #billy hargove smut #billy hargove x reader #billy hargrove

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skania · 2 years ago

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Some Stranger Things Vol 2 Thoughts

Predictably enough, I’ve ended up with more thoughts than intended, so I figured I may as well write them here so I don’t forget them by the time S5 comes out.

I need to start by saying that I haven’t been impressed with the writing since S3. S3 was full of “misses” for me, and the “hits” were very few and far in-between. A few of those problems are still present in S4 - and they are entirely to blame for most of the stuff that didn’t land for me, but all in all I genuinely enjoyed S4 more than S3.

Spoilers for the entirety of S4 below the cut!

What I liked, in no particular order:

- Lucas & Max. I didn’t care about their budding relationship in S2, and I definitely didn’t care about them in S3 either since all we were told is that they argue a lot and then make up. However, S4 knocked it out of the park with them and I enjoyed every single scene they shared. They were SO good.

- Lucas. PLEASE I’ve been waiting for Lucas to go back to his S1 glory since forever, and he finally did. He was such a joy to watch. BLESS.

- Erica. She was a bit too much last season, but this season they struck the right balance and she stole the show. I love the kid.

- Eleven. I've always been kind of indifferent to her, but this season got me caring and they got me caring A LOT. This poor girl has been through SO much and she is always doing her best. If she sacrifices herself next season, I'll be really disappointed. She deserves better.

- Mike & Eleven. Another ship I've always been indifferent about, but I felt for them this season. I actually found Mike’s inner conflict believable and understandable. I’m also hoping he won’t sacrifice himself for Eleven in S5, because at this point these two kids have earned their happy ending.

- Hopper. Thank GOD Hopper is back to being himself. I'll just pretend S3 never happened.

- Jonathan & Will. I've said it before and I'll say it again, Jonathan is at his best whenever he has meaningful scenes with Will. He is an excellent brother and I loved every single minute Vol 2 spent showing it.

- Will & Eleven. They are SO sweet I wish we had gotten more of them.

- Robin & Vickie. I am confident they're going to get a happy ending and I'm 100% here for it. They're adorable. Although it kind of feels like Robin would be sort of dating herself, so hopefully they differentiate their personalities a bit more in S5 lol

- The single most surprising thing about this season for me is... I didn't mind Murray. I even found him funny. For once. I usually roll my eyes every time he's on the screen, but this time Yuri got that honor. BOY was Yuri unbearable lmao

Lastly and most importantly:

- Dustin. This kid still owns my heart, I can't possibly love him more than I do. Another perfect season for him. It’s funny because Mike is supposed to be “the heart”, but when you look at the series as a whole, for me the heart is clearly Dustin.

- Steve & Robin. Their friendship is everything. I wish they had been able to form a little unit with Eddie and Dustin, alas.

- Dustin & Eddie. HIS SECOND DAD. I LOVE THEM. It’s funny because while I was watching them in Vol 2, I got the feeling that Dustin is going to grow up to become exactly what Eddie was to him. He will be the figure that, by being unapologetically himself, will feel other outcasts feel welcome, seen and accepted. They were SO funny, together, too.

- EDDIE. Best character addition since Bob to be honest, so of course I was expecting him to meet the same fate. He would have been so, so ridiculously good with Steve, Dustin and Robin in Season 5. I knew they would take him away, but I still hate that it happened.

- EDDIE & CHRISSY. WE GOT ROBBED.

Now, the stuff that I didn’t quite like:

- Eddie's fate. Literally Bob all over again. A pointless death that was just there for shock value and to make us cry. I can’t believe that Eddie would decide to stop running right when he SHOULD have ran. It felt so hollow, too, because despite the show continuously making Eddie repeat that he sees himself as a coward, he never felt that way to me. His reactions were completely normal. Honestly, it was kind of a forced character-arc so that Dustin could lose an older-brother figure that isn’t Steve. Which I wouldn’t have minded so much if only losing Eddie wasn’t such big wated potential.

- Lack of Steve & Dustin. They set up a small conflict between them and it never got resolved. Steve obviously wants to be someone Dustin looks up to, so Dustin being 10 steps ahead of him intellectually makes Steve feel insecure. Yet, we just get Eddie telling Steve that Dustin thinks the world of him... and that’s that. You’d think Steve and Dustin would’ve been allowed to have a conversation, specially so that Steve could admit to Dustin that he was a little jealous of Eddie but that he now sees why Dustin likes the guy so much. But nope, nothing. They barely exchange a word with each other throughout S2. They really should have absorbed Steve into the Dustin & Eddie dynamic instead of sticking Steve with Nancy.

- Steve confessing to Nancy. Just why. Steve was doing so well, thanking Nancy and acknowledging their S2 arc. The convo should’ve stopped right there, or at worst, right after Steve wondering if they would’ve worked out if they had met now. That bit should have been followed with a “I guess it’s for the best, though. You have Jonathan now, and I kind of have my six nuggets.”. They could have even followed that with Nancy going “Steve, I...” only for Robin to interrupt them. That way it would have been 100% open ended and no one would’ve stepped onto each other’s toes. Instead they literally made Steve confess to her while Nancy is still with Jonathan. That feels like such a betrayal of everything Steve has gone through, he would’ve never done that to Jonathan knowing he himself has been in Jonathan’s shoes before.

- Steve’s screentime revolving around Nancy. WHY did they do my boy so dirty? Whoever said we need him to have a love interest at all? And what was even that speech about the 6 kids? Like I get it was supposed to be a cute nudge to the fact that he, essentially, is the babysitter of 6 kids and we all love him for it. But they should’ve realized that line wouldn’t be well received, specially not when said to Nancy out of all people. People are already twisting it into Steve wanting Nancy to be a stay at home wife. Why couldn’t they have chosen a smaller number like 2 so people would’ve been more inclined to take it a face value and let it slide. Like, I know Steve is a fan favorite, but they need to be careful with how they write him. I personally absolutely want him to stay that way lol

- Nancy's romances. Please just let the girl be single. She can't end every other season lying to her boyfriend and acting like things are fine, while she may or may not thinking of another guy. Come on.

- Will's feelings for Mike. I just want the kid to be happy. They could've chosen ANYONE to inspire Will's self-discovery, but of course it had to be a straight boy who already has his own OTP. I honestly feel like they went for it because the fandom has been wanting it to happen for so long, but this way no one wins. Will is stuck having unrequited feelings for a boy who is already taken, Mike gets demonized because he doesn’t have the emotional awareness to catch onto it and address it appropriately, Mike/Eleven gets trashed as the straight ship standing in the way of a queer romance, and those who do ship Mike and Will still don’t get their ship. It’s just lose/lose all around. I really wish poor Will had been allowed to fall for someone else, I’m so tired of seeing the poor kid suffer.

That said, I genuinely hope the D&D brothers won’t be tone-deaf enough to give Eleven a tragic ending in S5, and then have Mike end up with Will once she’s out of the picture. I genuinely feel like they’re not very good at writing romance and at realizing what things just don’t reflect well on their characters (the Jonathan/Nancy/Steve love triangle being the prime example of it), so I wouldn’t put it past them.

All in all, I’m definitely tuning in for S5, but I’m still as unimpressed with the writing when it comes to romances/new character introductions only to kill them off lol

#fandom: stranger things #tv: stranger things #spoilers

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just-a-poor-boy-queen · 3 years ago

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Part 33 of Jimercury Kid series

Jim couldn’t understand it. He was completely and utterly baffled.

He had spent the last few weeks watching what he ate, cutting back on higher calorie foods, restricting his sweets, sometimes skipping meals altogether and substituting them for tea or coffee. And yet, as he stood there in his bedroom in front of the mirror, hands struggling with the buttons of his trousers, it all seemed to be for naught.

He could barely fit into any of his clothes. His trousers wouldn’t button, his shirts strained against his chest and even his pyjamas seemed ready to tear at the seams the moment he put them on. He couldn’t understand it; he had tried, he really tried. Yet it seemed he had put on weight rather than lost it.

Freddie had got rid of the scales during his illness, as it depressed him too much to be reminded of how thin and frail he was becoming, so Jim was forced to rely on his own estimation. Given how nothing fit him anymore, it was clear that his current approach to losing weight wasn’t working.

He gave up fighting with the button and pulled the trousers off in frustration, tossing them across the room. He wrapped himself back up in his dressing gown, which seemed to be the only thing that he could breathe in and sat down on the bed in defeat. He couldn’t help but allow his mind to wander to darker thoughts; what if it kept getting worse? What if Freddie looked at him one day and was disgusted by what he saw? Someone as beautiful as Freddie deserved better. He would tell Jim to pack his bags and leave.

He knew he shouldn’t think of such things, but he couldn’t help himself. He had always been made to feel that he wasn’t good enough for Freddie and this only cemented the idea into his head.

And the worst part? His poor mood was making him crave a biscuit.

He groaned and flopped down onto the mattress.

‘I’m in big trouble.’

Phoebe couldn’t help but snigger with laughter as Freddie held up one of Jim’s shirts, which was now noticeably smaller than it had been before it went in the wash.

Recently, Freddie had become insistent on being more independent and enlisted Phoebe to show him how to use various items around the house, including the washing machine. In hindsight, Phoebe should have known that this impulsive venture was destined for disaster; of course, Freddie would insist on doing Jim’s washing to surprise him, and then whack the machine up to 60 degrees despite Phoebe’s warnings. And now Jim’s loosest T-shirt was more of a crop top if anything.

Freddie sighed and set the shirt down, folding it pointlessly. ‘On a scale on one to ten, how angry do you think Jim will be?’

‘For shrinking his entire wardrobe?’ Phoebe pretended to consider the question. ‘At least an eleven.’

This clearly wasn’t the right thing to say, as Freddie groaned and faceplanted onto the kitchen table.

‘Cheer up, you old tart.’ Phoebe grinned and gave the singer a nudge. ‘Jim can never stay cross with you for long. Just explain yourself and he’ll forgive you.’

‘I know he’ll forgive me – it’s the half an hour lecture I’m not looking forward to.’ The Persian grumbled and pushed his chair back. ‘Maybe I should take Khaleel up with me. He can’t shout at me if the baby is there.’

‘Using your child as a shield? That’s low even for you.’

‘Give over, Phoebe. You and Joe were happy enough to use Jim as a scapegoat when you were smuggling cats into the house, so don’t you lecture me about morals.’

Five minutes later, Freddie was warily ascending the staircase towards the master bedroom, a packet of custard creams in one hand and Khaleel scampering at his heels. He was mentally preparing himself for the severe scolding he would inevitably receive, but hopefully a few biscuits would sweeten Jim’s mood. Lord knows, the Irishman could use them; he had been eating so little recently, he was practically wasting away into nothing. (1/2)

‘Darling?’ Freddie called out softly as he pushed open the door, scanning the room until he located Jim lying flat out on the bed, staring at the ceiling. ‘Darling, we brought you something.’

‘Don’t come in.’ Jim replied groggily, not even looking up from where he was laying. ‘I’m hideous.’

Freddie chuckled, not picking up the sincerity in Jim’s tone as he stepped into the room, Khaleel immediately making a beeline for the bed. ‘Hey, that’s my line!’

‘We brought biscuits, Daddy.’ Khaleel said excitedly, bouncing onto the bed and sprawling on top of Jim, resting his chin on the man’s chest. ‘I’ve already had three, so Baba says the rest are for you.’

The mere mention of confectionary made Jim groan. ‘Please take them away. I’ll probably put on ten pounds just looking at them.’

‘What do you mean?’ Freddie asked, sitting himself down beside his husband and son. ‘I thought you liked custard creams.’

Jim gave a loud, heavy sigh, lifting a hand to gently pet Khaleel’s hair. ‘I’m fat.’

There was a brief pause as everyone took a moment to process those two words. Then Freddie chuckled loudly, only stopping when he realised Jim was serious.

‘You’re not fat, you silly fool!’ Freddie exclaimed, looking scandalised. ‘If anything, you could stand to eat more. There’s nothing of you these days!’

‘Oh, come on Freddie.’ Jim couldn’t help but snap, though he quickly lowered his voice when he realised that he had startled Khaleel. Their son hated it when they argued, and he quickly pressed a kiss against the little boy’s nose to reassure him. ‘I know for a fact that I’ve put on weight. I don’t fit into any of my clothes anymore. If that’s not proof, I don’t know what is.’

Freddie felt his cheeks begin to burn and he carefully placed the packet of custard creams out of Jim’s reach, in case the Irishman decided to use them as a weapon. ‘Ah…that might be my fault.’

Jim sat up, sitting Khaleel on his lap as he stared at Freddie in confusion. ‘How is it your fault?’

‘Well, I asked Phoebe to show me how to use some of the appliances around the house.’ Replied Freddie, playing with his fingers awkwardly. ‘And I wanted to surprise you by doing your laundry. But I might have turned the temperature up a little too high.’

Jim’s eyes went wide. ‘You shrunk my clothes?!’

‘In my defence, Phoebe is partially at fault for listening to me when I told him I knew what I was doing.’ Freddie dropped his gaze to his lap, peering up at Jim through his eyelashes. ‘I’m really sorry, darling.’

But Jim just started to laugh, though it sounded like he was on the verge of crying as well. ‘Jesus Christ, Freddie. You have no idea how happy I am to hear you say that. I thought I was going to end up needing a forklift to get downstairs.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous. There’s nothing wrong with your weight.’ Freddie said gently, leaning over and brushing a kiss against the man’s bearded cheek. ‘You’re perfect just the way you are, isn’t he, Kenny?’

‘I love Daddy’s tummy.’ Khaleel replied, giving Jim’s stomach a pat. ‘He’s like a big cuddly teddy bear!’

‘Exactly. He’s our teddy bear.’ Freddie kissed his husband again, rubbing his cheek against the man’s stubble. ‘So…are you cross with me?’

‘Of course I’m cross with you!’ Jim exclaimed, though he was cracking up as he spoke. ‘I have to invest in a whole new wardrobe now, thanks to your terrible laundry skills!’

‘I’ll take you shopping tomorrow, I promise.’ Freddie pouted and thrust the packet of biscuits under Jim’s nose. ‘Now, stop telling me off and eat my peace offering.’ (2/2)

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

Awwww haha I loved this!

Firstly, I love how you've explored any body image issues that Jim may have had, and how that tied to his insecurities of not being good enough for Freddie.

And oof, baby Jimbo was adorable.

And the worst part? His poor mood was making him crave a biscuit.

Awwww I love my Irish teddy bear so much😂💙

Also, lmao Freddie being absolute shit at using a washing machine, Phoebe's amusement at his friend's antics, and Freddie eventually blaming Phoebe for putting too much faith into him made me crack up😂😂😂 He's such a character, our Freddie.

(More drabbles by writer anon)

(All the parts of this series can also be found under the tag #freddie and jim and their baby on this blog)

#ask response #jim hutton #freddie mercury #anon writing #freddie and jim and their baby

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yourfinalbow · 4 years ago

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hi lol this is totally random but based on a harry potter post you just reblogged and you can completely ignore me if you want, but do you think snape deserved better, or are you a quote unquote "snape apologist"? I'm genuinely curious cuz I've come across a lot of different opinions on severus. Again, feel free to ignore :)

This ended up way longer than it needed to be, and I apologize for that lmao.

Hi! Hmmm I have many mixed opinions on this. First we have to talk about which Snape. Book!Snape is actually kind of an asshole, and not in the fun way. (Way more than I remembered.) But but but Alan Rickman!Snape I like a lot.

And no I'm not mentioning Snape from TCC. That was not Snape and that world was not Harry Potter.

Snape is an interesting character because of how flawed and layered he is.

(Putting a cut because it's so long, and tw for non-detailed mentions/reference to abuse, as well as both trauma and death.)

He wasn't born in a very good household, which I can definitely see as being a reason for why he is who he is. (A reason, not an excuse. Those are two extremely different things.) You look at Sirius, who also came from a horrible household, yet he managed to dig himself out of the mud and make his own path for himself. (Though I have many angsty headcanons for the thoughts he has and being afraid of what he will do and in turn his own mind. WolfStar solidarity. Neither one of them know what they are truly capable of, and both are completely afraid to find out.

Ahem sorry I got a little distracted there.

During the Marauder's era, Snape wasn't a good person in general, but he tried to be nice to Lily. (One of the only exceptions he made.) That being said, (sorry, going on a tangent again), it does not excuse what the Marauders did. As much as they are, in my humble opinion, JK's greatest creation, they should be held accountable for both the prank, and dangling Snape upside down. (Though Remus does make a few good points in their defense later, it's still not an excuse.) Two wrongs never make a right.

Snape doesn't deny Lily's claims at him wanting to join a supremacy group, nor does he say he isn't friends with Death Eaters.

It's clear through the flashbacks we're given that Snape is apathetic in the face of innocent people dying, but once again Lily is the exception.

Dumbledore defends Snape by saying it wasn't his fault that Harry's parents are dead. I actually semi-agree with this. On one hand, he was directly at fault, but on the other hand he had no way of knowing. As a severe Loki apologist, I do not blame Loki for Frigga's death. He may have led the dark elves to her, but he didn't know it was her she was sending them to. That's the comparison I make in my mind, and so I don't completely blame him like other people do. (One could also make the argument that Sirius is to blame. Sirius, who is 100% my favorite character in the entire franchise, gave the secret keeper job to Peter, thinking it would be safer with him. However, he had no ill will or malicious intentions towards Lily, James, and Harry, so I don't blame him.)

All that being said, Snape not only would have been fine with random people dying, he also didn't care whether or not James and Harry lived.

For context:

(Dumbledore is speaking, right after Snape comes to him for help.)

"You do not care, then, about the deaths of her husband and child?" They can die, as long as you have what you want?"

Snape said nothing, but merely looked up at Dumbledore.

He has a strange relationship with Lily. He obviously loves her, but not enough to want to stop Voldemort from killing the two things that bring her the most amount of happiness. It's clear he doesn't care about anyone except for Lily. Which on some level, I can understand why. When people have traumatic childhoods, they tend to hold on to a person that was there for them. Sometimes it can be the hands of the person who caused them pain in the first place, but other times it is another person who was there for him. He holds Lily's opinions of himself higher than anybody else, and he holds Lily above anybody else, and I think this can be attributed to some sort of trauma response, which is why his love for her is so unusual. That doesn't mean I think he should be fine with killing innocent people.

On the topic of trauma, I think joining the Death Eaters was another response to this, as well as a result of what kind of family he had.

Similar to both Harry and Voldemort, Snape much preferred Hogwarts to where he lived, and such the castle became his home more than his house ever was.

The Death Eaters could offer him something he had never been offered before. He belonged to something. In his own, twisted, traumatic mindset, he might have even almost seen the Death Eaters as a family. Not consciously of course, but there was definitely a feeling of belonging they gave him.

And there's something to be said about the fact that many serial killers in real life come from an abusive family. I don't pretend to understand the minds of someone who can do something so vile, but I have watched enough Criminal Minds episodes to know what they long for is control.

So being apart of this supremacy group, even though he was a half-blood himself and undoubtedly didn't entirely share Voldermort's racist beliefs, gave him both control and something he belonged to.

It's not an excuse, but it's a reason.

Alternatively, you can look at it through a quote from the most recent episode of Loki.

"It's part of the illusion. It's a cruel, elaborate trick conjured by the weak to inspire fear."

So it's also possible that when he was a kid, he thought being a villain was the only way to prevent others from being one to him.

Ok sorry, back on the chronological track.

So he agrees to change sides and work with Dumbledore. (Who must see just how distraught Snape was over Lily's death, to trust him immediately.)

Snape spends most of Harry's time at Hogwarts humiliating his own students. He particularly calls out Harry and his friends a lot, but I can definitely see this being a defence mechanism. He assumes Harry is James and reverts back to what we talked about earlier. (Becoming the villain so nobody else has a chance.)

But but but, he does a lot of good throughout the books. Snape mutters the countercurse, saving Harry from Quirrell during the Quidditch match. He then actually referees at the next match, preventing anything from happening altogether.

In retrospective, we see that he spends most of the first book helping Dumbledore by protecting the stone, and helping Lily by protecting Harry.

Now I could go through and list the goods and the bads of Snape throughout the entire series, but I have neither the time nor the patience, and I think you get the point.

(Except I would like the mention that Snape becomes a double agent for Dumbledore in book four, and risks his life every single day by constantly betraying Voldermort, and never once does he use this as a way to double cross Dumbledore. This was actually probably really hard on him. You can assume that having to pretend to be a Death Eater means he had to do some despicable things just so he didn't blow his cover. If he really has changed by this time, which I would like to think he has, is a lot of added guilt to live with.)

(I would also mention that he tried to save Sirius in book five, but... *falls on floor dramatically* I don't want to think about it.)

Severus Snape's time comes to the end in book seven. At the hands of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, his death is a valiant act of sacrifice. Protecting the living and defending the honour of the fallen.

So, he has done a lot of bad in his lifetime, but by the time we as readers get to know him, his fundamental set of beliefs have begun to change. Through the eyes of what started as an eleven year old boy, you can definitely see that even after this he wasn't necessarily a good person.

And that's because his good is behind the scenes. He's good on a larger scale. He's chosen the light over darkness, but in his everyday life he's still the scared, traumatized little kid he's always been.

And him being this way has reasons, but these reasons are not excuses.

Sorry anon, this kind of turned into a long winded review of the entire character. I know that's not really what you asked, so I'll sum it up in a final few sentences sentence.

Yes. I wish Snape had gotten to live. Not because I'm necessarily a "Snape apologist", but because I find his character interesting, and seeing his reaction to his sacrifice could have been a really good read. Also Harry coming up and thanking him would have been really touching, and as a cherry on top maybe we could have gotten to read Harry apologizing for his father. Maybe even Snape sharing memories of Lily?! (Sorry that might have gotten a little to fanfic-y.)

That being said, his death being a final sacrifice towards the good of everyone, and a final testimony to his change of heart, was -- and I'll give JK credit just this once -- good storytelling, and a good way to end it.

Also I like movie!Snape because fuck yeah he's just so awesome.

If anyone has anything to add/take away, or they just want to discuss the wonder that was Alan Rickman, let me know! (Ask/Comment/Reblog/Etc.)

#ESPECIALLY you anon #I never get HP asks so this was a treat #Harry Potter #Severus Snape #Character analysis #Maybe?!#Lampswered #*Spongebob Imagination Rainbow

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twoidiotwriters1 · 4 years ago

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Written In The Stars CXXXVII (Harry Potter xF!Oc)

A/N: Book 6 was beyond complicated to write due to some artistic choices I made lmao but again I do hope you guys like it even if I don’t feel it was perfect bc I enjoyed how most of it turned out -Danny

Words: 4,005

Series’ Masterlist

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Listen to: ‘The Black and White’ -by The Band CAMINO.

Chapter Thirty-Five: A Prophecy.

Harry walked back to his chair and sat down heavily.

"Five years ago you arrived at Hogwarts, Harry, safe and whole, as I had planned and intended. Well — not quite whole. You had suffered. I knew you would when I left you on your aunt and uncle's doorstep. I knew I was condemning you to ten dark and difficult years. I considered it almost a miracle when Emily agreed to move in next door so she could keep an eye on you..."

Even though Lord Voldemort perished that night in Godric's Hollow, his followers continue to hunt down answers for months, neither Harry nor Mel would've been safe in the wizarding world.

"You would be protected by an ancient magic of which he knows, which he despises, and which he has always, therefore, underestimated — to his cost. I am speaking, of course, of the fact that your mother died —and your father too, Mel— to save you. They gave you a lingering protection he never expected, a protection that flows in your veins to this day. I put my trust, therefore, in your mother's blood, Harry. I delivered you to her sister, her only remaining relative."

"She doesn't love me. She doesn't give a damn —"

"But she took you. She may have taken you grudgingly, furiously, unwillingly, bitterly, yet still she took you, and in doing so, she sealed the charm I placed upon you. Your mother's sacrifice made the bond of blood the strongest shield I could give you. And as for you, Mel, you were just a baby, therefore Voldemort's followers couldn't tell if you were as skilled as your dad. It was only until last year when Voldemort realized you were hiding great power."

"I still don't —"

"While you can still call home the place where your mother's blood dwells, Harry, there you cannot be touched or harmed by Voldemort. He shed her blood, but it lives on in you and her sister. Her blood became your refuge. You need return there only once a year, but as long as you can still call it home, there he cannot hurt you. Your aunt knows this. I explained what I had done in the letter I left, with you, on her doorstep. She knows that allowing you houseroom may well have kept you alive for the past fifteen years."

"My mother isn't a Dumbledore," Mel frowned. "If that's what kept Harry safe, living with his aunt, then why did I only meet you after I turned eleven?"

"You were a direct descendant from my brother and not me, you weren't in danger as much as Harry. Once I found out about your outbursts I talked to him, I knew you'd need his protection... I'm afraid his guilt stopped him. I've been taking his place, having you come into my office for a weekly lesson as a way to make sure you would be both, protected, while also learning to defend yourself."

Harry came into a new realization.

"You sent that Howler. You told my aunt to remember — it was your voice —"

"I thought that she might need reminding of the pact she had sealed by taking you. I suspected the dementor attack might have awoken her to the dangers of having you as a surrogate son."

"It did. Well — my uncle more than her. He wanted to chuck me out, but after the Howler came she — she said I had to stay. But what's this got to do with..."

"Five years ago, then, you arrived at Hogwarts, neither as happy nor as well-nourished as I would have liked, perhaps, yet alive and healthy. You were not a pampered little prince, but as normal a boy as I could have hoped under the circumstances. Thus far, my plan was working well."

The memory of that small boy came to her. He didn't look much different from the Harry sitting beside her, except perhaps, for the way his gaze had darkened.

He'd always known Harry and Mel would eventually be hunted, and he'd made sure they'd be ready. Dumbledore had a plan from the moment they set a foot in the castle. She wondered exactly how much of everything happened accidentally, and how much had been planned.

"I don't understand what you're saying."

"Don't you remember asking me, as you lay in the hospital wing, why Voldemort had tried to kill you when you were a baby? Ought I to have told you then? You do not see the flaw in the plan yet? No... perhaps not. Well, as you know, I decided not to answer you. Eleven, I told myself, was much too young to know. I had never intended to tell you when you were eleven. The knowledge would be too much at such a young age, just like I refused to tell Mel about the rumours surrounding our family."

'The knowledge would be too much at such a young age'. Now, after four years, Mel felt weaker than when she was eleven. Somehow thinner, and far more fragile.

"Do you see? Do you see the flaw in my brilliant plan now? I had fallen into the trap I had foreseen, that I had told myself I could avoid, that I must avoid."

"I don't —"

"I cared about you too much. I cared more for your happiness than your knowing the truth, more for your peace of mind than my plan, more for your life than the lives that might be lost if the plan failed. In other words, I acted exactly as Voldemort expects we fools who love to act."

Mel visibly deflated, a new wave of hurt crashing against her heart.

"So it's true, then?" She asked. "Caring only makes us weak?"

"My dear, I defy anyone who has watched you as I have —and I have watched you more closely than you can have imagined — not to want to save you more pain than you had already suffered. What did I care if numbers of nameless and faceless people and creatures were slaughtered in the vague future, if in the here and now you were alive, and well, and happy? I never dreamed that I would have such a pair of young souls on my hands..."

Mel had held something similar whenever she would reach out to kiss Harry, and nothing else in the world mattered when they were alone together... but after the third task, they were always so alone.

"...You came out of the maze last year, having watched Cedric Diggory die, having escaped death so narrowly yourself... you, Mel, gave away part of your own life, selflessly risking your own well-being just for the frail chance to see Harry again, and I did not tell you, because to tell you after having almost lost each other in such a way would've been beyond cruel, though I knew, now Voldemort had returned, I must do it soon.

And now, tonight, I know you have long been ready for the knowledge I have kept from you for so long, because you have proved that I should have placed the burden upon you before this. My only defence is this: I have watched you struggling under more burdens than any student who has ever passed through this school, and I could not bring myself to add another — the greatest one of all."

"...I still don't understand," Harry responded, though now his voice was a bit more quiet and fearful.

Dumbledore admitted what they already knew: Voldemort tried to kill him because of the prophecy, and he'd tried to stop it before it could be fulfilled. Now, years after and once again in a proper body, Voldemort set his mind on hearing the whole thing, looking for a way to end it.

The sun was fully out now, and as he finished, Mel felt the first glimmer of hope peering through.

"Mel broke the prophecy," Harry said quietly. "She crushed it against the ground..."

She closed her injured hand tightly without caring about the sharp pain that shot up to her elbow.

"I knew we could get rid of it."

"How?" Harry frowned. "How could you know?"

"Because that orb was merely the record of the prophecy kept by the Department of Mysteries. But the prophecy was made to somebody, and that person has the means of recalling it perfectly," Dumbledore explained, looking at her with a strange glint in his eyes.

"Who heard it?" asked Harry, though he already knew the answer.

"I did. On a cold, wet night sixteen years ago, in a room above the bar at the Hog's Head Inn. I had gone there to see an applicant for the post of Divination teacher, though it was against my inclination to allow the subject of Divination to continue at all. The applicant, however, was the great-great-granddaughter of a very famous, very gifted Seer, and I thought it common politeness to meet her. I was disappointed. It seemed to me that she had not a trace of the gift herself. I told her, courteously I hope, that I did not think she would be suitable for the post. I turned to leave."

As Dumbledore stood up to retrieve something from a cabinet, Mel continued her story.

"That was the reason why my uncle knew what Voldemort was looking for," She swallowed harshly. "As soon as that thing broke I recognized the figure. How could I not? We've been seeing her for three years..."

Dumbledore came back holding the Pensieve, he put the tip of his wan on one temple and pulled, Mel stood up abruptly.

"Maybe I shouldn't be here to hear it."

"You've earned your place in this conversation," Dumbledore replied. "Your life is linked to Harry's, is only fair for you to hear it too... that way you'll be able to make an informed decision."

"Only if he agrees."

She was used to Harry keeping her at a proper distance from his doings, nevertheless, Harry grabbed her wrist.

"Sit down... please."

Before she could reply a figure rose from the Pensieve, there stood a small version of Sibyll Trelawney with a voice Mel had only imagined thanks to Harry's tales from two years ago:

"THE ONE WITH THE POWER TO VANQUISH THE DARK LORD APPROACHES... BORN TO THOSE WHO HAVE THRICE DEFIED HIM, BORN AS THE SEVENTH MONTH DIES... AND THE DARK LORD WILL MARK HIM AS HIS EQUAL, BUT HE WILL HAVE POWER THE DARK LORD KNOWS NOT... AND EITHER MUST DIE AT THE HAND OF THE OTHER FOR NEITHER CAN LIVE WHILE THE OTHER SURVIVES..."

Professor Trelawney vanished slowly.

"Professor Dumbledore?" Harry said after a moment. "It... did that mean... What did that mean?"

"It meant... that the person who has the only chance of conquering Lord Voldemort for good was born at the end of July, nearly sixteen years ago. This boy would be born to parents who had already defied Voldemort three times."

"It means — me?"

Dumbledore eyed both teenagers carefully before speaking.

"The odd thing is, Harry, that it may not have meant you at all. Sibyll's prophecy could have applied to three babies, one of them being Mel."

"What?"

"I thought it was meant to be Matthew's baby," He sighed, "an Auror and a Dumbledore... but alas, you were born at the start of the month — and you were a girl. There were still two more babies in line. Both born at the end of July that year, both of whom had parents in the Order of the Phoenix, both sets of parents having narrowly escaped Voldemort three times. One, of course, was you. The other was Neville Longbottom."

"But then... but then, why was it my name on the prophecy and not Neville's?"

"The official record was relabeled after Voldemort's attack on you as a child. It seemed plain to the keeper of the Hall of Prophecy that Voldemort could only have tried to kill you because he knew you to be the one to whom Sibyll was referring."

"Then — it might not be me?"

"I am afraid that there is no doubt that it is you."

"But you said — Neville was born at the end of July too — and his mum and dad —"

"You are forgetting the next part of the prophecy, the final identifying feature of the boy who could vanquish Voldemort... Voldemort himself would 'mark him as his equal.' And so he did, Harry. He chose you, not Neville. He gave you the scar that has proved both blessing and curse."

"But he might have chosen wrong! He might have marked the wrong person!"

"He chose the boy he thought most likely to be a danger to him. And notice this, Harry. He chose, not the pureblood (which, according to his creed, is the only kind of wizard worth being or knowing), but the half-blood, like himself. He saw himself in you before he had ever seen you, and in marking you with that scar, he did not kill you, as he intended, but gave you powers, and a future, which have fitted you to escape him not once, but four times so far — something that neither your parents, nor Neville's parents, ever achieved."

In her mind, an alternate life started to take form: Mel as the orphan, Harry's parents alive and well, it was her the one facing death every time...

Then poor scarred Neville, while Mel and Harry lived surrounded by their families, perhaps even together. The fact that the only reason why Harry was the chosen one was a matter of gender and dates...

"Why did he do it, then? Why did he try and kill me as a baby? He should have waited to see whether Neville or I looked more dangerous when we were older and tried to kill whoever it was then — or even Mel... She's a Dumbledore — She's the strongest!"

"That might, indeed, have been the more practical course, except that Voldemort's information about the prophecy was incomplete. The Hog's Head Inn, which Sibyll chose for its cheapness, has long attracted, shall we say, a more interesting clientele than the Three Broomsticks. As you and your friends found out to your cost, and I to mine that night, it is a place where it is never safe to assume you are not being overheard. Of course, I had not dreamed, when I set out to meet Sibyll Trelawney, that I would hear anything worth overhearing. My — our — one stroke of good fortune was that the eavesdropper was detected only a short way into the prophecy and thrown from the building."

"So he only heard..?"

"He heard only the first part, the part foretelling the birth of a boy in July to parents who had thrice defied Voldemort. Consequently, he could not warn his master that to attack you would be to risk transferring power to you — again marking you as his equal. So Voldemort never knew that there might be danger in attacking you, that it might be wise to wait or to learn more. And once Mel was born at the start of July as a girl, and you a boy, this only narrowed it down to his apparent advantage. He did not know that you would have 'power the Dark Lord knows not' —"

"But I don't! I haven't any powers he hasn't got, I couldn't fight the way he did tonight, I can't possess people or — or kill them —"

"There is a room in the Department of Mysteries," Dumbledore replied carefully, "that is kept locked at all times. It contains a force that is at once more wonderful and more terrible than death, than human intelligence, than forces of nature. It is also, perhaps, the most mysterious of the many subjects for study that reside there. It is the power held within that room that you possess in such quantities and which Voldemort has not at all.

That power is what has aided Mel to know if you're in danger and allowed her to help, that power took you to save Sirius tonight. That power also saved you from possession by Voldemort, because he could not bear to reside in a body so full of the force he detests. In the end, it mattered not that you could not close your mind. It was your heart that saved you. So you see, Mel," He added, "caring it's never useless."

"The end of the prophecy... it was something about... 'neither can live...' "

"'... while the other survives,' " Dumbledore concluded.

"So... so does that mean that... that one of us has got to kill the other one... in the end?"

"Yes."

They stayed silent for the longest time, Mel found her voice at the same time as her courage.

"Okay," She spoke. "We just have to make sure you're the one that lives."

Dumbledore's face hinted at a smile, but it did not form fully. Harry stared at her like the thought of surviving was next to impossible.

"I feel I owe you two other explanations," said Dumbledore carefully. "You may, perhaps, have wondered why I never chose you as prefects? I must confess that I rather thought both of you had enough responsibility to be going on with..."

Mel let out a dry chuckle, Harry just sighed.

"The second and final... is about the decision you ought to take."

"What decision?"

"Your lifeline," He started, "I've been reading about it since the third task... It's called Unio Azoth — A universal cure for any kind of injury, you heal with life itself, and it's always effective. However, not many people dare use it because it demands great sacrifice from both sides of the connection. It's created through highly complex magic, or it can happen, as it was your case, after multiple shared near-death experiences," He paused. "It can also be removed."

There was a split second in which the students didn't know how to react.

"You're saying," Mel started. "We've been hurting each other for a whole year — and you hid this from us?"

"You were on bad terms after the tournament, the removal can only happen if both sides consent, and you were holding onto it tightly, Mel."

"Is it dark magic?" Harry asked abruptly. "Our connection?"

Dumbledore took another long look at him.

"I believe that what you're trying to ask is if it's damaging for any of you," He replied. "Which is something that depends on the circumstances. There have been moments your connection has improved your lives, but it's also damaged you physically to a great extent. You're asking a question only you can answer, Harry."

"This could've fixed everything between us," Mel felt her anger increasing. "And you just let us argue instead? Why?"

"It was your impulsive actions that kept me from speaking, I couldn't risk one of you trying to cut it without the other knowing, it would've resulted in tragedy."

"We would've acted differently if only we’d known! The reason why we fought was because of how guilty Harry felt about putting me through extra pain — We could've just cut the damn thing — You thought I would've just decided to abandon him?"

"Isn't that what you were attempting this year?" Dumbledore asked pointedly.

"Harry and I couldn't stop fighting, I was tired — I had to keep my distance," Mel stood up. "He spent a whole year drowning in guilt thinking we couldn't change things —"

"When I found out it could be removed," Dumbledore's voice came out just as firm as hers. "You were already far too traumatized. Losing this would've felt like losing a limb. You weren't ready to make a choice then, but I can't keep you in the dark any longer, you have the whole picture now, so you can make an informed decision, but I must ask you to think —"

"I don't need to think it over," Mel said, but Harry spoke at the same time.

"I want to keep it."

"What?" She looked at him in disbelief.

Harry stared at her.

"It's thanks to this that I knew you were having panic attacks, you've saved my life many times now, I owe you — and it doesn't have to hurt, you can control it, I just need to learn how to do it too!"

"You've been nagging me about how much of a burden this was and suddenly you cling to it as if it were a blessing?" She narrowed her eyes.

"It's just..." His jaw tensed. "It works both ways — if I give it up and Voldemort takes you... I can't leave you to deal with it alone, you'd do the same for me. You've already done it."

Mel shook her head, speechless.

"The decision is yours to make..." Dumbledore concluded. "You have until next term to tell me, and then we'll do whatever you please."

They were walking side by side without speaking. She did not wish to fight, and she felt like it would happen if they were to bring up... well, everything.

"I'm sorry," He muttered.

"I don't want to hear it. I'm to blame as much as you are. I ignored you — Dumbledore's right, knowing would've tricked us into thinking we could deal with it on our own, it would've killed us... I've been selfish enough this year to know I would've felt tempted to try and cut it on my own. I won't admit it in front of him, though..."

"You weren't —"

"I don't want to have this conversation," She stopped walking. "Everyone thinks I'm like my father or my uncle... and I'm not. When I was with you I was just Mel... whoever that's supposed to be. When we fought I got lost — you said awful things to me, but you were the only one who wasn't treating me like some overpowered freak..."

"I can't promise we won't fight in the future, but there are worse things than disagreeing and the thought of dying without telling you that I..." He came to a halt, voice breaking.

They wanted to talk about so many things, and yet Mel felt like they would never get to say anything at all.

"You know," She said softly. "We've gone through so much already... and it's hard, looking at you and having to pretend I can continue like this."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm feeling so alone, Harry," She forced the words out of her. "I miss you."

She'd almost been murdered that night, treated like a ragdoll, and traumatized until there was no safe place in her world. Still, nothing made her feel quite as vulnerable and tiny as Harry's understanding of her, the way he knew every single corner of her mind as if it were his own.

Harry gazed at her with hurt, he clenched his jaw and shook his head lightly. She was ready to watch him leave when suddenly, he hugged her.

Mel was having trouble breathing against his shoulder but her arms kept him close, one hand made its way up to the back of his head while the other went to the middle of his back. He was a few inches taller than her, but she still felt like they were a perfect fit.

"I'm sorry," Harry mumbled against her hair, and Mel knew he wasn't just talking about Sirius.

"Me too," She closed her eyes tightly. "We'll find a way through this... together."

Next Chapter —>

Taglist.

@dee123ksha @vampiregirl1797 @siriuslysirius1107 @stardusthigh @mikariell95 @vernon-dursley @thesuitelifeofafangirl @tomshollandz @kylosleftbuttcheek @reverse-hxlland @bloodorangemoonlight @omiwashere @t-rexs-world @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @21bruhs @i-am-scared-and-useless-bisexual @dielgonacoffee @thelastpyle

#twoidiots writing #hp fanfic #Harry Potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter xoc #WITT fic

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lizardkingeliot · 4 years ago

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First Line Meme

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line, then tag 10 of your favorite authors!

tagged by @phoenix-ascended thank you!!!! 💖

Okay SO. I’m gonna cheat a little bit here. The first nine I’m going to post are all going to be from the first nine chapters of time cast a spell on you (but you won’t forget me) but to be fair the chapters are so long they each might as well be a story all their own lmao. ANYWAY. Here we go. I’ll post the first paragraph from each I guess, in order of chapter number obvs:

1. Quentin shook out the tension in his hands. He didn’t understand why it wasn’t getting any easier. For days on end he’d been trying to perfect the illumination spell the rest of his fellow First Years had nailed in a matter of hours. But no matter how he tried, Quentin couldn’t seem to make anything more than a spark.

2. Quentin waited until Eliot was asleep to slip out of bed and hastily tug his clothes back on. The illuminated screen of his phone told him it was just past 12am. Clutching his shoes to his chest, he opened the door as quietly as he could manage and tip-toed out into the hall, all but running to his room and clicking the lock shut firmly behind him.

3. Dry-mouthed and groggy, Quentin woke in Eliot’s bed alone. He groaned, groping around for his phone to check the time for a long moment before remembering he’d left it in his room. Quentin rubbed at his eyes, rolling over and up to his feet, muscles he didn’t even know existed screaming as he went. He picked his bathrobe up from the floor and pulled it on, then tottered down the hall to empty his bladder and brush his teeth and gulp down frantic handfuls of water from the bathroom sink.

4. Tuesday morning was hell. Quentin woke just before eleven, empty as a husk. Filthy, all used up. His thighs sticking together where Eliot’s come had dried there in the night. Quickly realizing he’d already missed his first class of the day, Quentin pressed his face into his pillow, pulled the covers up over his head, and surrendered to the blank comfort of late morning sleep.

5. Quentin couldn’t feel his face, or much of his body for that matter. Which was… fine. It was great. It was fucking phenomenal. As long as it meant he also couldn’t feel the sinkhole that had formed in the center of his chest. The one that had been there for days, weeks, months, fucking years. He couldn’t feel anything at all.

6. Quentin felt a lever turn inside his chest, the source of his magic eking out a spark. Enough at least to send a message to Julia back at Brakebills. One of those little enchanted paper airplanes they’d learned his first week in Practical Applications that he never could get to fly quite right. He scrawled his SOS on a cocktail napkin and watched it flutter away like the world’s saddest butterfly. The universe took pity on him. Quentin figured he was probably due. 7. Christmas morning was a lackluster affair.

Exchanging gift cards over coffee and devouring great mounds of Ted Coldwater’s Famous Ham and Eggs while still in their pajamas. After, Julia and Quentin lay on the living room floor and Skyped with James, his grandparents waving hello from Pennsylvania in the background. They opened the stack of impersonal and overly-extravagant gifts from Julia’s mother that had been delivered to the house the night before. Quentin received a pair of cashmere socks and a leather belt with a shiny silver buckle.

8. Quentin stood at the bathroom sink, watching his face shift in the steamy mirror glass. Stark naked save for the towel looped around his hips. Hair dripping in cool, fat beads down onto the planks of his shoulders. So clean he swore he could feel himself sparkling from the inside out.

9. Quentin tossed his phone down onto the floor and leaned back into Eliot’s heat. “It’s almost like you want my dad to know I’m faking sick so I can stay in and let you fuck me until I pass out.”

Some patterns I guess: I love how chapters 2-4 all open with Quentin in bed after hooking up with eliot but all with very different vibes. In chapter 2, he’s just experienced subspace for the first time without having any idea that’s what actually happened to him and he is having A Time. In chapter 3, they had a very intense hook-up the night before and Quentin is sneaking out again, but this time he fully plans on returning right after. And in chapter 4, we see the joy of their beginnings at Columbia contrasted hard with the misery of where Quentin is at Brakebills.

ALSO 2/3 of the chapters begin with Quentin’s name which feels right considering just how deep into his headspace we are in this fic.

Okay. Anyway. Moving on:

10. Eliot loved watching Quentin lose himself in a moment.

It could be anything really: mastering a brand new spell; savoring something decadent and sweet; fussing with his hair when he thought no one was looking; focusing very hard on making himself a cocktail and getting the ratios just right; ranting about his Fillory books; reading his Fillory books, to himself but especially aloud; reading anything; riding dick...

That last one held a particularly special place in Eliot’s heart.

(from but i would die for you in secret aka the one where eliot is pretty sure quentin is only using him for his dick. spoiler alert: he’s not they’re just idiots)

11. Teddy was turning six years old. There was nothing in the world he loved more than stories.

His favorite was a version of Lord of the Rings Quentin had cobbled together from memory. He must have told it to their son a hundred times before it occurred to Eliot he could contribute more to story time than ogling Quentin’s hands while he spoke, or popping in to suggest when the Balrog should actually be making an appearance, Quentin.

(from in a land far away aka the mosaic fic where eliot makes margo hand puppets for teddy)

12. The words came out of Quentin’s mouth without a single coherent thought behind them.

“I’m just about to catch a movie with my boyfriend!”

There, outside the coffee shop on Eighth Avenue, Quentin’s maybe-friend from high school whose name he couldn’t even remember shot him a wide-mouthed grin. “Oh, that’s wonderful!” she said. “Which movie? My wife Danielle and I don’t have any plans for the afternoon and we’d love to tag along. Isn’t that right sweetie?”

(from your name like a song (i sing to myself) aka the one where quentin’s memory is shit and he and eliot pretend to be boyfriends in a post-monster world)

13. Eliot dropped the last box onto the floor. “Daddy’s wardrobe is safe at last,” he said, lowering himself down into the gold chair with a sigh. “Though I can’t seem to shake the terrible feeling that Todd raided my closet at the Cottage before I could get to it all.”

Quentin surveyed the damage from his spot on the sofa: there were at least seven large packing boxes bursting at their seams scattered around the penthouse. “I don’t know how you would even be able to tell. I’m pretty sure one of those boxes is just vests.”

Eliot quirked a brow in his direction. “Some of us are cultivating an aesthetic, Quentin,” he said. “And I didn’t see you complaining when I let you dress me for dinner last night.”

Quentin couldn’t help but smile. “I wouldn’t call picking between two pre-approved ties dressing you, El.”

“I’m also counting the fact that you said my ass looked great in my new pants.”

(from the parentheses (all clicking shut behind you) aka the suspender porn fic)

14. The night Quentin Coldwater died, a brand new star appeared in the sky over Brakebills. A little brighter than Venus, it stayed fixed in the same position for weeks on end. Eliot hardly would have noticed such a thing if it hadn’t been for the way that it hummed. Or at least, that’s how it felt. A humming in his bones. An old, familiar presence. Margo thought that he’d gone mad with grief. Alice was the only one who could understand.

(from a myth of devotion aka the one where eliot is sorta icarus and quentin is sorta the sun)

15. It didn’t happen the way Eliot expected it to. He dropped the letter into the mailbox, and pain blossomed in his abdomen so brightly it was like he’d gone supernova.

And everything went dark.

(from by night, beloved, tie your heart to mine aka the one where eliot sends the letter)

16. Eliot stretched out over the mosaic, his shirt riding up just a little as he clicked a yellow tile into place, and Quentin’s pulse leapt in his neck once, twice. Three times. His breath hitched. It was becoming nearly impossible to focus. In the heat of the sun, watching the sweat soak Eliot’s shirt clean-through.

(from i won’t deny (all the things i would do) aka the one where quentin and eliot start hooking up three months into their life at the mosaic)

17. After they decided kissing on the mouth was okay, Quentin and Eliot wanted to do it all the time. In every corner of the penthouse (“If you don’t stop sucking face while I’m trying to eat my sandwich,” Kady said one afternoon, “I’m literally going to feed you to the Baba Yaga.”), outside coffee shops, in between bites at the sushi place in Chelsea that Eliot loved. Once, they went to see a movie they couldn’t even remember the name of just to make out for two blissful, uninterrupted hours in the dark.

(from and a song of praise upon your lips aka part three of the box of chocolates series where quentin and eliot are definitely dating and finally talk about their feelings)

18. Eliot startled awake to something sharp and pointed slamming into his shin. He opened his eyes, and the toe of Margo’s shoe made contact one last time. Pain seared up the side of his leg, and he winced. Jesus, she really did not realize her own strength sometimes. Or the strength of her Jimmy Choo’s.

(from that you may know (the secrets of your heart) aka part two of box of chocolates aka the one where hand stuff is still banging)

19. Eliot Waugh was High King in his blood, and somehow that felt right. When they first arrived in Fillory, Quentin assumed he would be the one to wear the crown. He’d dreamed of it most of his life after all. On the throne in Whitespire, a fleet of talking animals at his disposal, a noble quest waiting around every corner to ferry him away to the next grand, heart-stopping adventure. But when the blade bit into his palm and drew no blood, and Eliot’s came up red, it felt like the final piece of some perfect puzzle clicking into place.

(from and this is the map of my heart aka the one where quentin wants to marry eliot and they have some incredibly filthy sex before everything falls apart)

20. Eliot walked into the penthouse to an eerie quiet. He found Quentin sitting in the kitchen under a dim illumination spell, drinking a beer and poking at the screen of his phone.

“Hey,” Eliot said, setting his shopping bag down on the counter. “Where is everyone?”

Quentin sighed, rubbing at his eyes. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days. “Out. I don’t know.”

Eliot squinted at him. “You didn’t want to go with them?”

Quentin lifted his eyes, shot Eliot a look. “No.”

(from for love (if it finds you worthy) aka part one of the box of chocolates series)

And I have now been here doing this for so long I no longer have time to try and find anymore patterns lmao BUT I will be tagging: @thelucindac @akisazame @fishfingersandscarves @nellie-elizabeth @freneticfloetry @rubickk7 and anyone else who wants to play!

#the magicians #queliot #otp: proof of concept #myfic

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pochapal · 4 years ago

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I hate doctor 11 but ive never been able to explain why in like words lmao. He feels like such a mary sue character imo and like theres something about his characterisation that was always just really ineffective (like the stuff about fishfingers and custard or whatever it was). Imo i'd love to hear you give top 5 worst things about the 11 era because i rlly just love when it gets torn apart

i hold nothing but a seething contempt and loathing for that man. every time he appeared on screen i felt ready to snap like a riled up chimpanzee in my enclosure. i am frothing at the mouth and overcome with a desire to start flinging heavy objects. this might be incoherent and inconsistent but i started this rewatch in feb 2020 and only finished this week so i got through 11′s episodes last august/september time and i refuse to revisit it to jog my memory or fact check anything i’m saying here because this man does not deserve the space in my mind for that.

the first thing is i can’t fucking STAND the quirky whimsy timey wimey bit he has going on all of the time. i can’t even say this is because this is a kids show and i was a teen and then adult when i first properly watched him but actually!! when i was eleven years old i’d sleep over at a friend’s house most weekends and it always coincided with the airing of a new season 5 episode and i remember we watched the finale with the dumb time hopping to get out of the box prison that was never explained and didn’t make sense and i thought at the time “this is really stupid”. and before that my only other doctor who exposure was watching the david tennant christmas specials with another friend and throughout childhood my only opinion on doctor who was “this is a tv show that is not for me but is one that all the boys i am friends with like so i will put up with it to maintain our friendships” but at least those episodes were both suspenseful and engaging enough to keep me watching all the way through. like who the fuck does an end of the world sci fi plot and approaches it with an “oopsy woopsy i am a funny little alien man who is going to stop you all by making you do a hecking silly” like it’s unneeded and self-parodies an already cheesy show to the point where it becomes unwatchable and makes it impossible to ever take this man seriously.

next thing that downright sucks ass so badly is the stupid fucking overwritten constantly escalating plotlines. like everything from season 5 up until his regeneration at the end of season 7 is meant to be this grand interconnected cosmic plot about how...the doctor trying to bring back his planet will end the universe or something so all the top powers across all of reality tried again and again to stop him from doing that except he doesn’t know what’s going on so he keeps thwarting these people who supposedly mean good?? i mean i sure don’t fucking know what they were trying to say!! like for some reason we never get the doctor suddenly becomes this superdemon that threatens everything so these people (whoever they are) decide to, in sequence: suck him through a time rift to erase him from existence, trap him in a prison and remake a universe without him, take his companion’s baby and turn her into a perfectly trained doctor killer, form two(!!) secret societies to hunt him throughout history that are only stopped by his companion splintering herself across his personal timeline to protect him, and repeatedly cause reality collapsing events because it’s a kinder outcome for the universe than what he will do. this grand and terrible event turns out to be...he spends a few hundred years chilling by a rift that leads to his home planet and protects a few generations of children from monsters which convinces them to give him infinite regeneration power then fuck off back to their pocket universe. and it’s like!! what is the point of anything that happens in this man’s era when everything is always “the darkest moment” or whatever the fuck!! i don’t care!! we never get a compelling reason to believe this bumbling clown of a man could ever be a universal threat!! the whole thing is so dumb i hate it!!!

thing number three i hate is how the eleventh doctor is ALSO characterised as this abrasive egotistic male supergenius to the point where he becomes genuinely indistinguishable from bbc sherlock. genuinely who enjoyed seeing this guy constantly tell people their tiny human minds can’t comprehend what he’s doing and then basically just wave his magic wand to solve whatever problem each episode is facing. 2012 is the year of human sin because this fucking shitsmear character archetype somehow became both a redditor role model AND a tumblr sexyman and it’s like!! nobody is enjoying this stop making this seem cool! him saying timey wimey thing any time he does anything is frustrating and dumb and locks the viewer out of giving a fuck about anything that is happening! smartest man in the room syndrome is a disease and the eleventh doctor is terminal with it. like remember how they established river as an accomplished scientist (when she wasn’t being a child soldier or a time paradox or whatever the fuck) and every time that came up mr doctor eleven man was like “oh this thing is obvious because i’m a genius and you didn’t realise because your brain is tiny so get out of the way and let the grownups think” or that time it turned out amy had been replaced with a slime clone for half the season and the doctor chewed rory (audience surrogate) out for somehow not realising this fact we didn’t know right from the start and like. this served no purpose other than to draw into severe question why the doctor is also this super beloved magical figure implicitly trusted by all children everywhere like. mr steven moffat is totally allergic to writing and solving mysteries in his tv show and fuck you for wanting to figure things out as you go along based on the new evidence you uncover at strategic plot intervals just let this asshole man use magical thinking to reveal he knew the answer all along and you’re a fucking idiot for not also realising this thing which had no basis or precedent anywhere else in the show.

speaking of dumb things let us not forget the absolute shitshow that was minority representation in this era. i’m not even talking about the low hanging fruit of how genuinely unironically sexist amy and clara were written where each episode moffat either seemed to loathe them or was incredibly horny over them and they had no character growth or arc or fucking anything. i’m talking about how fucking shit terrible the incidental representation was. god remember how every single fucking gay person who appeared in this era was written as one incredibly fucking stupid joke and how the women were all either sexy dominatrix, feeble girl in love, or Mother (or all three in some really terrible cases) and i’m not qualified to talk about this but also how incredibly white this era was and how on two separate occasions we had monarchs reimagined as sexy girlbosses with a gun played by black women who the doctor leched over. nothing about any of this was good ESPECIALLY coming off the back of rtd who was surprisingly forward thinking for 2005 and did a really good job of positing travel with the doctor as queer allegory. in comparison moffat gave us THE MOST heterosexual shlock i’ve ever had to endure. amy and rory could have been interesting characters were they not hemmed into this domestic bickering young straight married couple bullshit that was in no way changed or altered by traveling with the doctor except for the quasi incestuous river song reveal that was dumb and bad and stupid.

the last major mega gripe i have with the series is moffat’s fucking jingoistic boner for british military aesthetics. this carried over throughout his entire tenure as showrunner but was super terrible vomit inducing in eleven’s era. the unironic admiration for ww2 britain and winston churchill is downright wretched. are you incapable of telling a second world war story outside of churchill’s london and plucky blitz fighters. shit gives me hives so badly. and then!!! that weird church owned army that features in the future that end up being bad not for the concept of what basically amounts to an imperialistic intergalactic rendition of the fucking crusades but because they’re part of the nonsense go nowhere puzzlebox narrative that says the doctor is a not good man who will do bad things to the universe :(. remember how rtd’s doctor was a freshly traumatised man hot off the war criminal press who time and time again vehemently refuses to engage in military violence, but who tragically inadvertently turns every one of his companions into soldiers in his own personal army, and he has this moment of complete horror at the realisation and it is this which causes the downward spiral that ends in 10′s regeneration. and then how there’s this cringe line about how there’s a force of people who are “the doctor’s army, always ready to fight his battles when he’s not around” or some shit and then it turns out this is actually massive literal military operation and we’re meant to celebrate this. fuck off.

bonus round because this needs to be said but i have never hated anything like i hated that fucking human tardis episode. everything about it induced violent anger in me from the sickening overindulgence of that softgoth dark whimsy helena bonham carter tim burton aesthetic to the bafflingly terrible evil carny stereotype of those junk scavengers to the overblown sudden tragic shipbait romance of human tardis and the doctor. every word out of her mouth was trite shit and the fact that the death of her body was presented as this super emotional dramatic scene despite there being no buy in or incentive to care and the fact that every single person on tumblr in 2012 ate that shit up like it was fucking gourmet. i loathe every single thing about that episode so much.

#Anonymous #hi bestie here's 1500 words of me getting mad about the worst television experience i had in my life #why the FUCK was this man tumblr's favourite back in the day. what the fuck did anyone see in any of this shit #i never want to think about dr whom ever again

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futurewriter2000 · 5 years ago

Text

Keeping You

A/N: It’s hard you guys putting an idea ike this in one fic. Do you know how many ideas pop in my head. Like I wanna make it angsty, I wanna make it so you’ll tear up and cry but I can’t do that because well....too much series already. Lmao. This has been in my drafts for far too long. Time to woosh it out.

REQUEST:Can u do one we’re the reader is James’s younger sister and has a thing with regulus black so regulus x reader. If u do regulus

James Potter. Who was that exactly? The Gryffindor, the house Quidditch Chaser, the Head Boy, the popular boy, the smart student, the favorite. He was everything people wanted him to be.

And who were you? You were the complete opposite.

The younger sibling, the other Potter, the black sheep, the outcast, the Slytherin, the trouble... It wasn’t that you were all of this because you simply had to. No. You were those things because you chose to be.

All eleven years you had to grow up in this house, you had to keep up with your older brother. What he did, you had to do as well. What he became, you had to become that as well but you never wanted to. A rebel since little feet, you couldn’t be pressured into being someone you weren’t comfortable being. They wanted you to be James. They wanted you to be just like their precious first-born but it felt wrong for you. It felt like you were pushed in a costume that was uptight, shoes that were untied and too big. It felt horrible so everything you and your mother always did was fight; Why can’t you be like your older brother!? Why are you making everything harder than already is?! How can James do it?!

Neverending. That’s what it was. You hated your home life just because of your older brother.The older you got, the more distant you became to your own parents and your big brother. You and James never got along because he couldn’t stand someone who stood up for the wrong things he had done. But you couldn’t let him get away with it. You couldn’t always have your mother breathing behind your neck, watching you to slip and seeing your older brother do just that and get away with it.

But no matter what, he was still the favorite.

That’s why you fell in love with the only person who understood that. Regulus Black, he was counted as the favorite but he told you many times, mother always talks about Sirius. Always. Perhaps in a bad way, perhaps she burnt his face from the family tree but then again, he was still her first-born. A mother can never forget the first breath she gave. Never, that’s why no matter how she told him that he’s better than his brother and that he’s the only sane one in the family, he still knew if Sirius came running back, which would never be the case, she would take him and if he was in Sirius shoes, she would tell him to walk away and learn his mistakes. She was always more strict with Regulus and that’s what lead to the only difference the two of you had. He obeyed and you didn’t.

Through all that facade he put on, he was just as angry as you. Holding it in, bottling it up... it wasn’t healthy. Both of you had it but you only showed it to each other. That’s what made everything work. Trust.

You felt yourself wake up from a peaceful, deep sleep. You woke up to the warmth of his body pressed against your back, his heavy yet gentle arms wrapped around you and his lips pressed on your chest. He felt you move and turn around to face him. He woke up but didn’t open his eyes yet because his brain was still trying to get in touch of his surroundings.

Your hand reached to his cheekbone and you let your fintertips wander on it. He was so beautiful. His hair fell above his shoulder-- this dark brown colour, silky and wavy that showed a shade of hickory on the sunlight. They could be completely black most of the times but in the mornings, on the sunlight they show their brown pigment. They were contrast to his eyes that were light olive, reflecting a hurricane and each time he opened his eyes, they made you wonder just how those eyes could exist.

“I love mornings with you.” he observed your face feautres, especially your smile. “I’d wake up to this every morning till death and not once get used to it.”

Your fingers ran through his hair, your lips sealed yet stil spread in a wonderful smile and sometimes that was all the two of you needed. Just each other and it was enough to be happy.

“I don’t want us to hide anymore.” you said quietly meanwhile your thumb traced his lower lip. “I gave you a year but I don’t think I can make it more.” you looked up at those fern eyes but they didn’t change. They didn’t. They still observed you with his adoration for you.

“Are you scared?” he smiled and put his hand over yours, taking it from his cheek and kissing it.

“Not anymore.” you replied. “You?”

“I have no reason to be.”

---

Meanwhile in the dorm of four, there was a different way of waking up.

“Pads?!” James shouted as he ran from the bathroom but the boy sprawled on the bed didn’t budge. James grabbed the pillow from his way to the warderobe and threw it at the pack of black hair. “Padfoot!”

“Aonsojdnsoeiurhgepifd.” Sirius groaned in the pillow. “No.”

“Wake up! We’ll be late.” James was now already in hsi pants and unironed shirt.

“I wanna sleep.”

“You’ll sleep when you’ll be dead now get your lazy arse up and stop being a twat.” he was already tying his tie around his neck and at no sound from his best friend, he grabbed Remus’ trumpet from Remus trumpet case and blew it in Sirius’ ear.

“FUCK YOU!” Sirius jumped awake, grabbing the pillow and throwing it at James, who laughed at his reaction. Sirius grabbed everything in his reach, kept throwing it at James who jumped out of the way, put the trumpet in it’s right place and grabbed Sirius’ clothes.

“Here, mate.” he threw it his way, running back to the mirror and messying his hair.

“You fucking suck.” Sirius pulled on his pants, later his shirt and then his robe. He looked around for his tie and didn’t even bother to tight it up his neck, just let it hang loose. “See. Two bloody minutes.” he slammed his arms against his body.

“You look like shit but I’ll take it.” James winked and ran through the door.

“Likeawise.” Sirius dragged his feet through the door, yawning and stretching all the way until his first class.

He plopped himself on the chair, realizing he didn’t even bother to take his school supplies with him. “Oh, fuck.” he let his head fall on his arms.

“I got you, mate.” James duplicated his school supplies with his magic.

“Thanks.” Sirius didn’t budge from his position, groaning from the lack of sleep.

Remus turned around in his chair, Peter as well, both looking at them. James looked at their grin, the kind that leaded into teasing and making fun of them and that was exactly what Remus intended to do.

“Heard the two of you will be practically family.” he started and Peter snickered beside him.

Sirius and James exchanged almost identical looks, both quirking their left eyebrow at Remus as the curiousity began to dig deeper. “What do you mean?”

“Your sister,” Remus nodded at James.

“And your brother,” continued Peter, nodding at Sirius.

“Are together.” Remus finished and James just watched, Sirius was nothing different.

Silence.

“You’re mad.” Sirius smiled and leaned back on the chair. “Nice one but you can’t mess with us, Moony.”

Remus rolled his eyes, looking at James who was just staring at the emptiness of existance.

“My sister wouldn’t date Regulus Black?” James asked himself but everybody seem to hear him. “He’s- he’s-”

“He’s what?” Sirius sat upstraight and looked at James.

“Well, he’s not her type.” James began to confuse himself even more.

“What do you mean?!” scoffed Sirius. “Not her type.” he mocked.

“I mean- she- I- no.” he looked at Remus. “No. You’re messing with us.”

Remus rolled his eyes once again. “Whatever the two of you say but don’t say I didn’t told you.”

But it was true. As much as James didn’t want to believe it, he saw you and him together. His arm around you, his lips against yours- close- too close.

And he couldn’t figure out what has gotten into him that made him so furious. It’s not that the two of you got along that great. Of course, both of you had good moments when both of you were kids. How he took care of you, had to drag you everywhere with his friends-

Maybe that was it. James realized he took care of you all his life, even if he didn’t want to, he still did. You weren’t easy to handle but you were still his little sister and whatever has been saying about Regulus Black wasn’t really making James joyous about the two of you dating.

“Heard you became a birdie.” he appeared next to you, walking your slow pace with ease. “A love birdie indeed.” he continued but you could feel him clenching his jaw.

“Yes, so?”

“So, are the two of you serious?” he asked, trying to hide his inner emotions.

“Yes, so?”

“So, no.” he continued to walk but you stopped. He stopped as well, walking to you. “What are you thinking, (y/n)? Regulus Black?! Are you bloody mad!”

“What’s wrong with Regulus?” you asked calmly, yet a bit irritated.

“Everything. He’s a Black for once.”

“Isn’t your best friends, who we spent summer with, a Black?”

“That’s different and you know it!”

“No, I really don’t.”

“Sirius had a fucked up life back home, especially with his mother-”

“Well, he can join the club.” you retorted and pushed past him but he stopped you.

“Mom doesn’t hate you, (y/n).” he spoke more calmly. “Your relationship with mom can’t even compare to the one with Sirius and his mom. You know it. I know you do and she loves you, and dad adores you and I care for you but going behind their back and dating Regulus-”

“Regulus isn’t a monster, James.”

“But he can be one.”

“He won’t.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because I know him in a way nobody else does. Just like you know Sirius in the way nobody else does.” you sat on the bench and threw your bag on the ground. “He makes me so happy, James. You don’t even know just how much happy I am with him and at times I just want to hug everybody when I come from him.” you smiled up at him and he sat behind you.

“So let me guess... a year?” he looked at you and you nodded. “I knew something was different around you when you started to actually be nice to me and to mum, dad even Sirius but why does it have to be him? From all of the wizards?”

“Because if it was any other wizard, I wouldn’t be the person I am today. And he made me this.” you put your hand on James’ hand and smiled. “He is amazing James, he truly is.”

“Even if he is, I won’t let him slip in that easy.” he raised his finger and you rolled your eyes. “Just...be careful with him.”

“Since when are you a caring older brother?” you let go of him and started walking away.

“Don’t do anything stupid!”

“Can’t do anything more stupid than you haven’t done!”

---

You jumped through the corridor and made your way to the dungeons. Stomping on the stairs with a wide beam and a few giggles here and there, you entered your boyfriends dorm and jumped on his back. He let go of the book and not even turning around before you kissed him all over his face.

He laughed at your action, laying on his back and holding your cheeks. “What has gotten into you?”

“You and me, Regulus Black, are going to make hella cute babies.” you joked and he laughed.

“Oh will we now?”

“Mhm.” you nodded, all skittish.

“So, I reckon you talked to James?”

“I did.”

“And he’s okay with it?”

“He is.”

“And you’re parents?”

“Don’t worry about my parents. If they accepted your brother, they’ll accept you too.”

He continued to look at you with gentle eyes, just smiling and taking in everything he ever loved. He kissed your forehead softly and hugged you tight. “We’ll get through this, right?”

“You and me? There’s no doubt I’m keeping you.”

#regulus black #regulus black imagine #regulus black x reader #sirius black #sirius black imagine #james potter #james potter imagine #marauders era #marauders #marauders imagines #marauders imagine

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jae-daddy · 4 years ago

Text

Chubby (15)

Jaebum AU Series

one / two / three / four / five / six / seven / eight / nine / ten / eleven / twelve / thirteen / fourteen / sixteen

pairing: im jaebum x reader genre: angst, romance, drama, mature plot: you are getting bullied and jaebum decides to fake date you a/n: this chapter is sponsered by sour skittles lmao <3 not edited, i hope y’all like it :)

“Yah, are you stupid?” She glared at you. You groaned as you tried getting up from the nurse’s bed. She gently pushed you back down, and let out a loud and heavy sigh.

“Y/n, I’m not saying this to be funny, or to sound strong, or whatever,” she looked into your eyes. You noticed the new wound on her bottom lip, and the bruise of her left cheek. You felt tears prickle your eyes as the image of those girls crowding around her flashed through your mind.

“You are my friend, y/n,” Nora says, as she takes your cold hands into her warm ones. “I know you want to protect me. I want to protect you too. But jumping into those kind of situations, against seven other girls, is just stupidity.”

You looked away from her soft gaze.

You felt embarrased. Embarrased that you shared this horrible memory, that this was your reality, that you couldn’t even protect her properly and probably made it worse for her.

“Next time, help me by getting help,” she told you softly, as she touched your chin making you face her. “Get help. Call someone. Don’t jump in.”

She held your collarbone where a purple bruise darkened.

“You jumping in doesn’t help. All it does is make it the both of us instead one. Okay?”

You nodded, as your chin began trembling, as tears began streaming down your face. “Okay.”

______________________________________________

The fluffy white clouds in the blue skies would’ve tricked anyone into believing it was a beautiful cool spring day, but the bitter chill that seeped through the old windows of the building reminded you otherwise.

Winter had slowly creeped up, and it was getting colder with every passing day. You were surprised it hadn’t snowed so far into the season. However, the weather always so nice. The past few months had been ridden with storms and endless downpours of rain making the early winter colder.

You stuffed your hands into your pocket of your winter jacket, as you let out a sigh. You wished for something hot and warm right now, but you didn’t want to go out of the old music room.

You knew leaving this sanctuary would leave you exposed to the judging eyes of everyone, and you didn’t want to risk the chance of running into Jenny.

The bullying had easied miraciously. Maybe pretending to go out with Jaebum did really help, but it didn’t deter everyone. Some still continued to treat you like trash as you passed the hallways alone. But never when you were with Jaebum, and that seemed to be often.

Jaebum never left your side in school. At first, it made you nervous. You didn’t like the attention, you didn’t like the stares. And most of all, you hated being a burden on Jaebum. You hated that he carried you around everywhere to protect you from their harsh words.

But as time has passed, you didn’t mind Jaebum next to you.

You didn’t feel like a burden as much anymore.

Not when Jaebum would sometimes forget the watching eyes and let out a laugh as you both joked. Not when Jaebum would hold your hands through the halls, or open doors for you. Not when Jaebum would smile at you and look at you as if you were the only good thing in the world.

Im Jaebum was nothing like you thought he would be. He was all the good parts you expected him to be. You knew he was kind, nice and caring. But you had also thought he was a sex obessed succubus.

Atleast that’s what the rumours painted him to be. They painted him like a sex god. As the boy who would only pay attention to anyone as long as he could gain something from them.

But that wasn’t true.

Jaebum was a dork. Jaebum was a good friend. Jaebum didn’t need anything in return for all that he was doing for you. Jaebum was a good person with a heart of gold.

It bothered you that Jaebum wasn’t being sexual with you, because that’s what his nature was made out to be. But Jaebum never touched you more than he needed to. And even when he did, he did it cautiously. His eyes always looking into yours, searching for permission. His hands were always warm, large and gentle.

Even in moments when you were so near that you could feel his minty breath dance on your lips. Even in moments when you wanted nothing more than Jaebum, his body, his lips, his hands all over you. Even in moments, where all Jaebum needed to do was breath the word and you’d snap and fall into him. Jaebum always managed to pull back, always stopped it before it went to far.

You sighed as you slid down the wall, and sunk onto the floor. Your knees pressed against your chest, your head leaning against it. The music gently carried from your earphones, and you let it loosen you up a bit.

You hummed lightly, closing your eyes, as your wrapped your arms around your knees.

“I can’t wait to hear you sing,” his voice spoke over the music, resting in my chest feeling golden. He sat down two cups of hot chocolate and a bag of snacks.

He sat down next to you, his shoulders pressed against yours. You tummy flipped, and your cheeks tinted pink. Jaebum didn’t notice and continued, “I always hear you hum, but never sing. I’m sure you’ll sound good.”

Your cheeks got warmer at his compliment. You avoided his gaze, not sure how to reply.

“Maybe someday,” you replied, trying to sound cool about it, despite your racing heart. He thought you sounded good.

Instead you searched through the back, and picked out the packet of sour skittles. You squealed happily as you turned towards Jaebum.

“How did you know?!” You had been craving it for a whole week now, but never got around to buying it. You gave him a wide grin as you carefully opened the packet and held it out to Jaebum. “Hand.”

You took them out on Jaebum’s hand picking out the green ones, and putting them into your mouth.

Jaebum hated any artifical food that was coloured green.

“Thanks,” Jaebum mumbled before stuffing the lot in his palm into his mouth. His face contured as the sourness for the candy sharply assaulted his tastebuds. You laughed, as he shivered before chewing furiously.

“Have the hot chocolate before it gets cold,” Jaebum gestured to the two cups between you two. You picked yours cup, sipping it slowly, letting the warm chocolate sink into your body.

You smiled, as you thought of how much the drink reminded you of Jaebum. It was warm and sweet just like him. The darkness of eyes stealing the colour of the hot drink. His eyes were like hot chocolate; warm and soothing. He was hot chocolate.

You looked over to Jaebum who was looking at you intently. Your cheeks tainted pink as you bit your lip.

“What?” You whispered after a moment when he continued to look at you.

Jaebum couldn’t help but think back to the first time you both were in this room together. He couldn’t help but compare you to the timid, shy girl who didn’t want to eat because she thought she deserved to. He couldn’t help but feel joy and find humour at how you stared at him, asking him questions, instead of stealing your gaze away from him.

He smiled to himself as he looked at you, making you frown in return.

You narrowed your eyes at him, as making his smile get wider.

“Jaebum, stop,” you pouted. “What is it? Why are you smiling at me like that?”

You stared as the light from the heaven shown into the little room on the fourth floor of the old building.

Jaebum threw his head back, his locks falling back. His throat long, his skin soft begging you to place a kiss on it. His voice bounced of the walls, his shoulders shaking as he barked out a laugh.

You couldn’t even be upset anymore.

You couldn’t even remember anything, as Jaebum laughed.

The light radiating of him, his skin glittering emitting the sunlight. His dark locks glistening, the darkness breathing in the light, as swayed gently with his movement. His red lips open and turned upwards, his eyes squeezed shit, making his long lashes graze his high cheekbones.

He was beautiful.

He was breathtaking.

You stared at him in awe, as he slowly settled down. He peeked at you from the corner of his eyes, as he coughed out the remaining laughter.

He didn’t say anything. He reached over and patted your head before rubbing your hair.

Your lips parted, as you stared at him in shock. You were sure your cheeks were as red as tomatoes, as you peered at him through your lashes.

Jaebum smiled, and sat back down.

You stared at him. He was playing with you.

You reached over and rubbed his black hair; you couldn’t help but notice the silkiness of it. It’s touch just as it looked like it would be.

Jaebum gaped at you, taken aback. His long hair lay over his eyes, covering it slightly. But you could see enough to see the surprise in them, slowly turning into mischieve.

“Jae, no-” Your yelp was cut off as Jaebum leaned in towards you. He was so close you could feel his warm breath fall over your lips. His eyes darkened, as they rested on your parted lips before meeting your wide eyes.

Your heart shivered, as excitment and the urge to kiss him ran over you like an electric wave.

His hands placed beside you on either side, caging you in. It made him surround you. It made him take over your mind completely, so all you could think about was him.

“Jae,” you whispered, your chest heaving. You leaned back slightly, but Jaebum followed you. He came in closer like you were a magnet pulling him towards you.

He was closer now; much, much closer now. So close that the slightest movement would make your lips brush against his soft ones.

He lifted one of his and placed them on your waist. The slightest thought of Jaebum feeling the curves of your plump waist crossed your mind, but instantly they vanished, as Jaebum parted his lips.

You wanted to lean in closer. You wanted nothing more than to press your lips against him, and pull his body onto you. You wanted nothing more than to kiss Im Jaebum.

But, you didn’t. You couldn’t. You couldn’t move even if your wanted to. Your whole body stilled with anticipation as your blood ran hotter with every passing second.

Kiss me. You thought, as if Jaebum could magically read your mind.

But maybe he could.

Jaebum’s eyes darted from your lips to your eyes; searching, reading. He smiled lightly, before looking back at your lips. His hands on your waist tightened, as he swallowed nervously.

You closed your eyes, your hands moving from your skirt onto Jaebum’s jacket. Your fists clutching it, tightly.

You felt Jaebum move for a second, the warmth of his breath moving for a spilt second. But then he was back. His one hand still on your waist, the other now on your cheeks.

Your chest rose and fell. Your sweaty palms holding onto Jaebum’s jacket. Your eyes closed tightly. Your lips waiting for Jaebum’s.

After what felt like eternity, you felt the slightest brush of lips pressing against yours, when a loud shrill ran through the room.

He jerked away from you.

Your eyes snapping open, your arms outstretched from holding Jaebum’s jacket.

Jaebum stared at you, and you felt yourself burn up. You were sure your whole face was on fire, as you looked away from Jaebum.

Oh my god.

Before Jaebum could say anything, you quickly grabbed your hot chocolate and ran out the classroom mortified.

Jaebum walked into the room fifteen minutes after you. The lesson had started, but the teacher didn’t address Jaebum as he strudded into class and settled in his seat beside you.

You felt his gaze remain on you the whole time, and lowered your head. You let your hair fall and become a curtain between Jaebum and your burning beetroot face.

After a minute, you saw a green box slide onto your desk. It was the sour skittles packet. Upon closer look you saw a white note peeking out. You pulled it out, and could tell Jaebum was watching.

Sorry you couldn’t resist my charm.

You looked over at Jaebum, letting out a little snort.

Someone snickered from in front of you, under their breath, “pig.”

Jaebum’s eyes darkened, his fist clenched, but he kept his gaze on you, watching you.

You reached out and touched his hand, before giving him a small smile.

This time Jaebum snorted, loudly, obnixiously. Even the teacher froze, but he didn’t turn around. He remained facing the board, his pen stopped midstroke. The whole class froze over, and no one let out a peep.

Until from infront of the room, a girlish snort came.

You looked over, and you couldn’t believe.

She remained facing the front of the room, as the whole room erupted into a quiet roar of commotion.

Jenny. It was Jenny.

#this chapter is sponsored by sour skittles #jaebum #jaebum angst #got7 #jaebeom #im jaebum #fanfic #chubby #fluff #anhst #angst #funny #bullying #a happy little Chappy I like #only five or six more parts left #maybe even less #not edited #jaedaddy

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hallowxiu · 4 years ago

Text

Team Stop Anti-Pick Up Line League 1.0

word count: 1.1k

summary: You, Asmodeus, and Mammon form the 'Team Stop Anti-Pick Up Line League' for uh, well-- you still aren't really sure why, but you've learned it's best not to question Asmodeus' motives.

a/n: it’s gonna get chaotic real fast lmao

part 13 of the mc isn’t good at pick up lines series

part nine | part ten | part eleven | part twelve

You stand in the middle of Lucifer’s office, awkwardly looking between him, Simeon, Solomon, and Lord Diavolo. It’s quiet, so quiet that you were positive everyone could hear your heart slamming against your chest. You quickly glance down at your get up before looking back up at the small group of people in front of you.

“I knew from the moment that I could hear your every move down the hall,” Lucifer’s pinching the bridge of his nose with a look of complete agony on his face, “that I should have left and stopped you from coming inside. This is on me. This is my fault.”

Literally only six hours earlier…

“I’m back!” The doors to the House of Lamentation swing open as you slide into the main room, your hands sticking out as you stare at the brothers who look at you incredulously. “I said…” You clear your throat, gesturing your hands to yourself and then the brothers who were in the middle of eating lunch, “I’m back!”

“We heard you the first time.” Lucifer states plainly as he sips on his coffee at the dining room table. “Has it been three weeks already? It seemed like only a few days.” The eldest sighs, clearly looking bored with your antics already.

“You know, when you say it like that, it sounds like you want me out of the house.” You argue with your hands on your hips, leaning forward to glare at the demon. The last three weeks you had been back home, your actual home. You had been suspended from RAD for three weeks, something about, ‘You can’t just kiss the future Devildom King in front of a group of demons at his own birthday party!’ and ‘That was so incredibly dangerous and reckless of you; not all demons in the Devildom agree with us hosting humans, let alone one cozying up with the crowned prince,’ and all that jazz. You honestly didn’t see what all the buzz was about, especially when you weren’t the one doing the kissing. As far as you were concerned, you were innocent in all of this. Would this stop you from throwing out pick up lines left and right with no consideration of the consequences? Of course not, you wouldn’t be sticking to your brand if that were the case.

“Did you learn your lesson?” Lucifer’s looking at you from where he’s seated at the end of the table.

“If I say yes, will you spare me the lecture?”

“No.”

“Well in that case, no I have not, and I’ll even go as far as to say that this was a waste of everyone’s time.”

🖋🖋🖋

“Idiot.” You let out a sigh for what seems like the millionth time when Mammon calls you an idiot… for the millionth time. “Seriously? What were ya thinkin’? Ya should’ve just told him you learned your lesson, even if you were just lyin’.” Mammon’s done nothing but scold you the second you got out of Lucifer’s office. It was as if he thought you wanted another lecture for the day, and you couldn’t get him to hop off your case. The two of you are hanging out in your bedroom again, and according to Asmodeus’ earlier texts, he would be joining soon too.

“You told me I should never lie to Lucifer.” You say while you watch Mammon spin around in your desk chair.

“Liar!” He comes to a halt, the heels of his feet digging into your carpet, “I said you should always lie to Lucifer! Especially when ya don’t agree with him. Come on, this is basic shit we went over when you first arrived at the Devildom.” You sigh again and roll your eyes, lying stretched out on your bed. Within a few seconds, you hear the door to your room open before closing softly.

“I brought snacks for our first meeting.” Asmodeus’ voice rings out in your room and you can hear the shuffling of plastic from the bags he was carrying. “I brought some drinks too.” You can hear him toss a bottle of water to Mammon and you safely assume that he missed it based on the ‘thud’ and the loud laughter that left Asmodeus shortly after.

“Our meetin’?” You’re sitting up now, gingerly taking the water bottle from Asmodeus when he offers it to you. Asmodeus looks at Mammon as if he’s stupid.

“Duh.” Is all he says before he sits down next to you, laying out the bags of chips on the bed. “We’re a team now. Team Stop Anti-Pick Up Line League.”

“Team what?” You didn’t even bother to repeat his line. Throughout your stay here, you’ve learned to stop questioning many of the things that would leave the blond’s mouth. If it wasn’t from the inappropriate nature of his comments, it would be the sheer randomness of it. Still, you find yourself questioning what he meant.

“Lucifer is the Anti-Pick Up Line League, so naturally we have to stop him.” The fifth eldest elaborates as if it was the simplest thing in the world. Maybe it was and you were just stupid; it was hard to tell sometimes if that were the case.

“Asmodeus, we don’t have time for your riddles.” Mammon comments from where he sits, and you’re silently thankful that you weren’t the only one confused. “What are ya on about anyway?”

“Lucifer is in a team against us.”

“I didn’t even realize we were on any teams.” You stare at the demon dumbfounded. “When did we get into teams?”

“Who is even on his team? I can’t imagine many people joinin’ forces with Lucifer, except maybe Lord Diavolo and Barbatos, but then again, Lord Diavolo seemed pretty keen on your pick up lines.” Mammon swirls around in the chair again. It’s amazing how he hasn’t gotten dizzy yet.

“I think it’s actually just Lucifer.” Asmodeus states sheepishly. “But!” He claps his hands together enthusiastically. “I strongly believe he is going to try and stop us from meeting up to plot more events.”

“Events?” Was it just you, or were you the only one not following along?

“You know, more pick up lines for you to use on us!” Asmodeus throws his arms in the air, leaning back while doing so. “I think it’s a lot of fun watching you try to lay a pick up line on one of my brothers, although I must admit that I get a tinsy bit jealous at times.”

“And how do you plan on us winnin’ over Lucifer?” Mammon asks with a quirked eyebrow. “And his, uh, Anti-Pick Up Line League.”

“I’m so glad you asked! I actually came up with the most perfect pick up lines that will fit your brand.” He says as he slings an arm around your shoulders. “Just trust me.”

Yeah, maybe you shouldn’t have.

#drabbles #obey me shall we date #obey me #shall we date #mammon #asmodeus #lucifer #mc #obey me one shot #obey me shall we date one shot

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