#my brain wouldn't shut off at four am

[thelediz]

I used to get this all the time, and man, OP, them feels, but I can't sleep so I'm going to ramble in defense of everyone involved.

I think something we often forget is that story writing, show production, music production, all these creation things, are very different mediums with very different privileges and restrictions. And fanfiction especially is so privileged because we are ultimately creating only for ourselves, so we have the freedom be so indulgent.

And sometimes that's what a reader/viewer/listener is going for, because why else would they be seeking out fandom? So of course they're going to love it more. They're being indulged!

But is it actually better? Ehhhh.... kinda not the point.

An example of this is from OP's show: Character A is sitting in his pyjamas despite it being well into the day, surrounded by junk and discarded clothes in his usually spotless room. It is barely a ten second scene, the show never comments on it, it's just a quick visual before he gets up and gets on with supporting his heroine.

Meanwhile, as a writer in that same scene, there are two ways to approach this:

One, don't mention it at all, because it's not important to the point of the scene, we're not going to get into it, so we don't introduce it. Move the heck on. This would be what a professional writer would do to adapt this specific scene.

Two, which as a world building fanficcer is my absolute jam, they might do one or all of the following:

A paragraph or two about why he's in his pyjamas still. Is it depression or self-indulgence?

A quick vignette about how he tried pizza for the first time and what he thought about it

Talk about why he hasn't had the energy to clean up after himself/is indulging in messiness because he finally CAN

Mention the fact that no one has been into his space for the last few days to comment on the mess

A quick mental sidetrack about how none of the above matters because his friend and the city at large need him

It could be anywhere between a hundred words and six thousand, but the point is, as a fanficcer, I have the time and space to indulge all of that character work without stopping the narrative.

The show, on the other hand, has to keep the story moving to the action sequence that's about to take place. It's a twenty-two minute show with commercials to air. It is not going to deviate for ten minutes to discuss mental health, but it kind of wants you to know there's something unspoken going on. So it gives you the visual. The character work done here is that despite the visual, he still gets up and gets to work.

I will also point out another privilege we have as writers - we can use internal monologue. Visual mediums that do this always suffer, because narration is bad (show, don't lecture!), so they try to avoid it.

Compare the Hunger Game Trilogies books vs movies. The Haruhi novels with the anime. Horror books in general versus slasher films! Writers can have their characters ramble away to themselves, comment on their surroundings, think stuff through, whereas shows and movies need to leave space for not only action but also the other characters. That internal narration just bogs everything down.

And finally... we're in fandom. We are not selling to a mass-market audience. We're creating ultimately for ourselves. So we don't need to worry about what the moral guardians will say, or time limits, or what's technically possible. We can spend six thousand words talking about the wonders of socks, or hours producing beautifully rendered pixels of falling rain, and if no one else cares, then it doesn't matter, because we chose to do it for our own fun. Not to make money.

I regret to inform you, fandom, that canon usually exists to make money or propaganda. Which means it's gotta be tight, highly edited, and only indulge in things that have been market tested.

But again, we wouldn't seek out fandom if we didn't want to dig into stuff canon material doesn't have time/space to do.

So I mean... I get it.

But it would be nice if people could understand that neither one is necessarily better than the other. They just have different priorities and needs.

But oh well. As a fanficcer, in current fandom, I will personally take any comment people are willing to give me... But still. Them feels, OP.

“I like the way you write the characters, it’s sooo much better than that shit way the writers of the show write them” is a compliment that’s very confusing to receive as someone who likes the way the characters are written in the show and is trying to mimic it

[sophsicle]

I'm Sorry I'm the One You Love

Part II (Part I)

He doesn't know what wakes him up. Or. Well. He does. It's James. But it's not as though the other boy is making any noise. And yet for some reason Sirius feels his eyes blinking open in the middle of the night, staring sleepily at the canopy over his fourposter bed.

Something in his chest pulls, yanks, tugs, throws a fit. Grumpily he sits up, scrubbing at his face, considers getting a glass of water, going to the kitchens for something sweeter. He hasn't got an actual plan when he pulls back the curtains around his bed, pausing when he spots the silhouette sitting in the window.

He knows who it is, of course.

Even in the dark, half-asleep.

Ah, he thinks. As though this is any kind of explanation for his sudden insomnia. It isn't. And it is. The pair of them tied together with a piece of string. Always pulling on one another. Come here. Come closer. Look at me. Look at me. Look at me, me, me.

"This seat taken?" he whispers, stopping in front of the window. James starts, tearing his eyes away from the glass and blinking up at him.

"Shit, did I wake you up?"

"Nah," even though he isn't sure it's true, squeezing himself into the spot across from James. The other boy is tense, Sirius can feel it immediately, his shoulders all the way up his neck, hands tapping manically at his knees, jaw clenched.

"You okay?" Sirius asks eventually, when it becomes clear James isn't going to say anything.

"Fine."

Sirius arches his brow even though James isn't looking at him, eyes back out the window.

"You wanna try that again?"

James huffs, shooting Sirius a weak smile. "Sorry," running a hand over his face. "Sorry, nothing- or - I don't know," he lets out a breath, and Sirius finds himself reaching out, wrapping his hand around James's ankle and squeezing. That earns him another smile. It's brittle though. Sirius hates it.

"I didn't fly very well last game," James says finally. Sirius would laugh if it weren't for the fact that James looks so serious about it. "And my essay for potions was crap. And like, I think I've done something to piss Lily off but I don't know what it is, and I'm pretty sure I'm not supposed to have to ask, you know? And my mum's written me twice and I keep trying to answer her, but every time I start writing I feel like my heart is going to choke me and I don't even know why-"

"James," Sirius tries to sound as soothing as possible, he's not sure he's exactly made for it. Soothing. Softness. But he does his best.

"-and the full moon is coming up and I think Remus is feeling it more than he's letting on and I keep trying to help but you know how he is. He was definitely in pain today though, and I just keep thinking that I should have pushed more-"

"James."

"-like make him lie down or take a pain potion or something. I don't know why I didn't. Maybe he would have been grumpy about it but at least he wouldn't have been in pain anymore which is worth it. I-"

"Oi!" Sirius hisses, letting go of James's ankle so he can grab hold of his wrists and give him a shake. James looks at him, startled, but at least he's stopped spiralling. "Breathe."

"I am breathing."

"Bullshit. Breathe. Four count, okay?"

And he thinks James is going to fight him, but then he inhales, the pair of them counting together. In, two, three, four. Out, two, three, four. After a few times James drops his head.

"Sorry," he manages.

Sirius makes an unimpressed noise. "Don't be stupid."

"My brain just...won't stop."

"I noticed."

A half-hearted laugh as James looks up at him again. Sirius isn't sure which one of them does it, or if it's both of them. Neither of them. Some natural occurrence they have no control over. But Sirius's grip shifts, their fingers slotting together so that they're holding hands.

"Sorry," James says again.

"Please shut-up."

"Right."

"You were brilliant in the last match," he goes on, James giving him a skeptical look. "You're always brilliant. We lost because Ravenclaw's beaters are maniacs, not because you weren't good enough."

"Sirius-"

"I said, shut-up," James does, obediently, though this time there's a hint of amusement. "Your essay is going to get perfect marks like every damn thing you write, Evans has not, in all the years I've known her, been afraid to tell you when she thinks you've done something wrong, if there was a problem I have no doubt she would let you hear about it. Your mum will understand that you can't answer every letter. You'll write her when you have less on your plate. And Moony's a bloody masochist, I honestly think he gets off on the pain at this point. Regardless, there is nothing you could have done to make him take care of himself properly and you know it."

James is staring at him with a stupid expression on his face. Sappy. Dripping all over the place. It's absolutely disgusting. Sirius hopes he never stops looking at him like that.

"Anything else?" he asks, with the smallest twitch of the corner of his mouth.

"Yeah. Stop picking at yourself. You're perfect."

That gets him a real laugh. "Perfect?"

"I said what I said."

Before Sirius has time to react James is yanking on their hands, half pulling Sirius into his lap, wrapping his arms around him, Sirius's face landing in his neck. It's not exactly a comfortable position. But Sirius doesn't complain. Can't even contemplate moving.

"I love you Sirius Black," James murmurs, arms too tight.

It's inadequate. But it's what they have.

"Yeah, I love you too."

[mosaickiwi]

Fall Unto Me (part three)

Part one, part two

I said I was on break but then a lot of things immediately fell out of my brain cause of stress so now I feel silly... sowweeeeee 🤡 Part four WILL be the last part I swear. If you see more Angel!Angel and Demon!Ren from me after that (and da infodump if i get to it) genuinely tell me to shut the FUCK up!!!

yes i am probably writing the NSFW version it'll be in my compendium post if it happens

cw// religious themes

14 Days With You is an 18+ Yandere Visual Novel. MINORS DNI

Your resolve was getting harder to hold on to, but you kept it. This would be the last time. You couldn't part from heaven again after returning. Atonement was waiting for you, eternal devotion to your duty right after.

Another few weeks went by as you stayed with Ren a little longer, the sea of flowers outside your bedroom window changing little by little each day. So many of them were already fully blooming, most of their petals stretched open to show off a myriad of colors while others curled inwards to hide from you. Practically a taunting mockery with how they took their time. As if insulted you would dare leave once they painted the horizon with their beauty.

It made it all the more painful that you'd never see them again. Or the companion that now felt like a piece you'd been missing.

Something about that encroaching deadline had affected the devil, too. Ren was calmer in some ways. They still brought you gifts and knowledge like usual, but he seemed to be taking his time just like the flowers. Simple answers to your curiosities became thorough while he held you close and urged you to ask more questions about whichever object took interest. 

He'd offered to revisit trinkets you loved as well. Until you were as familiar with using them as he was. You couldn't understand it. 

Your time together was draining away by the second. Didn't they want to make exciting memories? No matter how much you enjoyed it, mastery over human instruments or crafts served no purpose. Heaven wouldn't let you bring those things home, nor could you ask a higher power to recreate them for leisure.

Maybe your love was in denial of your departure. Or maybe spending little mundane, quiet days and nights together like this was their way of coming to terms with it.

Today, you chose to fiddle with one of the oldest gifts while chatting with him. The sun was just beginning to set, casting the room in the faded, flaming gold hue you'd only now gotten used to. 

“—Love?” He was calling you, the end of his tail swaying gently in front of your face to get your attention. You’d missed a few words.

“Hm?”

“You've gotten much better at this,” the pink haired devil hummed above you. His chin was resting atop your head as they cradled you in their lap on a frayed rug, his back against the bottom of the couch.

You looked over your work. The woven red string wrapped around and through your fingers took the shape of a pointed star. You knew real stars looked differently, but the human interpretation was interesting.

“Truly, it’s better than before,” you said with wholehearted agreement. The first time you'd tried—only on the third day of your visit to earth—had simply tangled the string to a knotted mess stuck upon your fingers for Ren to deal with while you apologized, embarrassed beyond belief. 

The patterns they taught you were almost easy thanks to your afternoon of trying. You unwound the string and painstakingly wound it again into one that often graced your practice: an angel. He'd been particularly smug about teaching you the motions of that one.

“An impressive self portrait,” Ren joked and squeezed you tighter in their embrace. “Although it'll take more than some thread to capture your divine beauty.”

Naturally, you rolled your eyes even though the soul it was meant for couldn't see it. A mortal gesture you'd gotten the hang of quicker than anything, as he so favored innocent teasing before expressing his deepest sincerities.

You untangled the string and tossed it to the side, then turned in their lap to make a face this time for their benefit. “I’ll do a painting, then. I’ve had enough of this toy.”

He relaxed his hold long enough for you to wander across the room in search of new distractions, but innocently called after you, “We’ll have to light quite a few candles for you to see well. Unless you plan to have me mix paints for you in the dark.” A second passed before he spoke again. “It’d be a pleasant surprise, I’m sure.” 

“Something else?” you replied, making a swift turn towards the bookshelves. You came back with a couple of novels and sat beside them with your treasure. “Is this really all you want to do? You’ve read every book here before.” 

Even the books he’d bought with strange, flimsy paper currency for you, Ren had said so casually, were already familiar territory. Tedium hardly described how boring you thought these weeks must be for him. But he never objected to anything you chose, as long as you both stayed close to home during the day. 

And you always kept your wings hidden in case a human roamed nearby. You'd never seen one come close to the cabin, or even the field of flowers, but he insisted your safety—and proximity to them—was of utmost priority. It was hard to remember the last time you let loose your wings at all after walking on the beach with him. They interrupted your thoughts once more.

“My sweet, delicate angel, I’ve had all the time in the world to do anything I want.” Their blue eyes narrowed with a smile as they spoke and you knew more teasing was coming. “We could even sit here in silence all night, if you asked me nicely.”

“How kind of you, my darling demon,” you teased them back. 

Another jesting response in his gaze faded to something different as you pulled him down for a kiss, gently at first. The books you’d brought over lay forgotten, soon shoved under the couch in favor of your new activity.

Kissing the demon you called yours felt like second nature now. There was no sting that ever came, no homesick aching in your back anymore. Only the flood of tender emotions he gave you, tainted by your own guilt and fears of parting from him.

You needed more. A stronger distraction. Your hand on his shirt tightened, determined to keep him. To stay in this moment as long as possible.

Ren exhaled, a muttering of blasphemous praise you dare not repeat whispered from his lips to yours, along with one word. A word that sounded odd to your ears. 

You'd heard it countless times over the months, but it didn't feel strange until after the first kiss you shared. He must have said it earlier, too, when you were occupied with that damned little red string. Demonic language was much different, it certainly wasn’t that at all. And the sounds of the word did feel similar to mortal languages, but nothing came to mind. So naturally, you could only assume it to be another of their pet names, but…

The thought fell to the side as you focused on him. He was all that needed to matter right now.

Their comforting warmth that called of your sacred home, your nails curling into the bottom of his shirt just to fall lower, an iron, almost nectar-like taste that flowered on your tongue—did you bite him this time? It felt good. 

Desperately, you brushed your hand over his thigh, getting dangerously close to where you knew things risked going further. You caught yourself and froze. You wanted him, you’d known since that day in the rain. In every way a being could yearn for another’s love. And of course he felt the same. But could you really go home if it happened? 

“Before I…” The words hung in the air and what remained weighed in your throat. Before I leave. Departure was looming on the horizon, sure as the sun would rise tomorrow. You dare not mention it to the one you loved again. You opened your eyes to meet theirs, cautiously as you wondered, “Is this alright?”

“Yes,” they answered, longing clear as the evening sky in his voice. “I couldn’t bear—or ever want—to deny you. Little angel, all you desire of me is yours to take.”

Without another word you did just that. You thought nothing of the faint, staggered line you felt under your fingertips that seemed to start somewhere along his shoulder blade as you lifted the shirt away and pushed him to lay on the rug. Your hands pressed their ink-stained arms flat next to the disheveled mess of pink hair and horns. Ren grinned at your audacity to pin him, but held still for your much needed exploration. 

Eyes half lidded with patient lust, mouth parted to show off pointed fangs, the devil looked to be the very picture of your sinful desires.

To be one with them, even just once, was a memory worth making. No matter what punishment waited for you at heaven’s boundary. You skimmed your fingers from the base of his collarbone, down over their stomach, and began to undo the buttons that concealed what you’d been waiting for.

[ohmyeyesmyeyes]

IT'S NEVER OVER - PROLOGUE (sept. 2005)

summary: if anyone asked sid, he wouldn't say that he liked pittsburgh more after meeting nat. no, that would be absurd.

warnings: short and sweet! (none)

a/n: hi, hello! am i posting this without having finished it? yes. i don't know how long it's going to be but i'm slowly chipping away at it and i'm pretty excited about it. it might even be my favourite series thing i've done so far, and weirdly my first one? i've had the entire thing outlined for months but i've been too busy to even think about posting it, so...here you go! i can't promise posts for this will be regular because the chapters are so long, but i'll try my best to keep you posted! hope you enjoy (a series mastrlist will be out soon too so you can get the gist of where i'm at in the entire process) xo

sneak peak | pinterest board

(It started with music, but Nat didn’t know that.) 

It was a total accident, a random encounter that Sidney couldn’t possibly have predicted – one that, without exaggerating, changed his life to an extent. On a whim, he’d decided to go into that coffee shop he’d walked past everyday for the past three weeks, and it was also on a whim he actually made it to the counter to order an uncharacteristic coffee – he was newly eighteen, being pulled in all sorts of sports-diet directions, the confinement of which kind of irked him, so to him, buying that coffee was a subtle rebellion.

It was also a complete accident that he’d wandered off to the right after taking his coffee from the counter, instead of left, or forwards, or even backwards.

Sidney wasn’t one to believe in fate or destiny: he believed those terms were too magical – they alluded to some other worldly forces coming into play, and he liked to stick to facts. Coincidences. Accidents. Nevertheless, he did find it almost inexplicable, the way that his life hurtled into a completely different route after a mere forty minutes inside a coffee shop that he’d just spontaneously decided to make a trip of. He couldn’t quite get his head around it all.

To him, it was a coincidence that he’d walked past her table. A coincidence that she happened to be blaring the only song he’d been able to listen to for the last four days. He’d barely made it three steps past her before he froze. 

She was wearing those over-the-ear headphones, the ones with orange sponges from the 80s, plugged into the iPod that had come out a few years back. He recognised it because everyone that had one in his high school before he left never shut up about it. Sidney admittedly did own one at the time, but he never really felt the need to show it off  – it was much easier than lugging around a cassette or CD player with songs burnt in.

The song still had him halting in his tracks and turning around, his body much further ahead than his brain because he had to steady his mug of coffee; his sharp actions had the liquid almost sloshing over the edge, but he managed to catch it just in time.

He wouldn’t have done either of those things: stop and turn, if it had been any other song he’d heard. He was just so taken aback by it – the exact, precise song. 

The girl at the table didn’t pay him a single dime of attention when he froze, despite the fact that his hip was practically nudging her table. She wasn’t even looking in his direction, her eyes gazing out of the window on her right, skipping over empty faces as people walked past. It was clear she was supposed to be doing work of some sorts: there were textbooks, novels, and flashcards scattered across the entire table, a pencil case half emptied with pens strewn all over. She had a pen clutched in the fist she was resting her chin on, not caring for the study cards at all – entirely enamoured by the view. 

Sidney followed her eyes. There wasn’t much to look at, just a street, and her chair was directly facing the side of a retail store, clothes and mannequins displayed in the window. 

In hindsight, Sidney didn’t really know what compelled him to do what he did next.

He couldn’t tell if she was bored and just looking out, not paying attention to the music flowing into her ears, or if she was just so absorbed in what she was hearing that she couldn’t physically bring herself to think about her work – that she’d tuned out the outside world entirely.

What caught his attention the most was the crease between her brows. It drew him to look straight at her; an alluring combination of chestnut hair and pale eyes – though not too pale that they made him uneasy. She was also probably the only person in the establishment that was around his age.

She had impeccable music taste, if he did say so himself.

Yet, he couldn’t shake the inkling that this girl was wholly feeling the brilliance and soul-crushing heartache of Jeff Buckley’s genius – and he found himself hoping she was.

That was why he cleared his throat and took a small step to the other side of the table. He threw a quick glance over his shoulder, noting that the cafe was pretty busy, so he knew he could at least try to get away with what he was about to do.

He made sure to tilt his head up, because the hat covering his face would be nothing short of slightly suspicious in a public setting, and it wasn’t until he purposefully knocked into the chair that she flicked her eyes to look at him.

He held his breath, a moment when all they did was look at each other, until the crease in her brows disappeared and she reached to pause her music on her iPod, slowly sliding her earphones off so they rested around her neck. 

“Hi.” 

His assumptions had been correct. She was around his age – her voice was deeper than he’d originally anticipated – and when he found himself slightly closer than before, he was able to make out that she was studying for her SATs. 

It was September.

“Hi.” He replied, forcing a smile that he hoped would convey the apology he felt for intruding on her personal time and in her personal space. Her clutter was all over the table, and he knew that if she was hopefully as kind to strangers as he hoped she’d to be, that it would be somewhat of a hassle to shove some of it away, “I’m really sorry, but there aren’t any other tables free. Would I be able to–”

“Oh, sure.” She interrupted, immediately going to reach to sweep a space clear for him over the other side of the table. Sidney watched with a mildly amused gaze; she didn’t seem to care for the way her flashcards seemed to mix themselves up, or the way her textbooks snapped shut and she lost her page.

She flashed him a welcoming, slightly embarrassed smile as she piled the books on top of each other, and before Sidney knew it, he was sitting in the chair opposite, accidentally knocking their knees together in the process, and sipping from his coffee mug. He fought to maintain the thankful smile on his face, despite the utterly bitter taste of the coffee that seemed to fester on his tongue.

No wonder he’d never tried coffee before, it tasted like dirt.

The girl broke a small chunk of a muffin off, a smile breaking out on her face as she fought a small laugh.

Sidney blushed, “I’m not a big coffee-fan.” He reasoned, shrugging.

“I can tell.” She pressed her lips together momentarily, looking down at the plate before turning her attention back to him. Sidney felt stunned at the colour of her eyes. He’d never seen grey eyes before, but hers seemed to balance more on the green side – only when the sun struck the side of her face, they turned a watery, clear blue. There was also a tinge of brown thrown in there.

What was that called? Heterochromia?

He felt his mouth dry, and before he could stop himself, he was taking another sip of his coffee, this time managing to control the urge to wince, “Thanks for letting me sit here.”

She shrugged, gathering the flashcards and lining them up, “It’s no problem. Sorry for the mess.”

He let his eyes wander over the books once more, the green ‘SATs’ letters jumping out at him, “You got an important date?”

The girl swallowed, not entirely understanding what he meant. That crease formed between her brows again, and she opened her mouth to question him, but Sidney beat her to it, a finger pointing at her stack of books. 

She sighed, “Not entirely, they’re at the end of the school year, but one of my teachers gave us an assignment to get some study material done early.” 

Sidney couldn’t say he understood her stress – it was something displayed across the planes of her face; evident when she looked rather tiredly at the stack of books, and hesitated at the flashcards, before throwing them to the side. She folded her arms across the table, then switched so that her hands were interlocked in front of her.

She looked as though she didn’t quite know what to do with herself, and Sidney couldn’t tell if it was because of the presence of a stranger, or if she was already feeling some sort of academic guilt for throwing her attention away from her studies for a couple of minutes.

He saw her jaw clench, and at that observation, the thought that maybe he was paying a little bit too much attention to her crossed his mind, so he turned his focus to the cup of coffee. He was beginning to feel its effects; his knee was shaking softly under the table and he could feel an influx of energy spark at his fingertips. Or maybe it wasn’t the coffee at all.

He hadn’t thought about hockey for five minutes.

He saw her turn her face towards him out of the corner of his eye, and he looked up, “What about you? Are you in school, or…?” She trailed off, her eyes skimming over the logo that had flashed itself from the safe and unzipped confines of his hoodie. 

He felt his heart quicken at having been caught, worried that perhaps she’d shout out who he was – if she knew – across the entire cafe. He remained optimistic; she didn’t seem the type.

He cleared his throat, “Not anymore.” For some reason he hesitated. He could play off the logo as merchandise – he could be someone other than Sidney Crosby, the New Rookie of the Pens – or he could be honest. When he looked back at her, there was a challenge in her eyes, and Sidney knew then that she already knew who he was. “I just got drafted to the Pens for my first NHL season.”

She sighed, “Can I tell you something?” 

Sidney furrowed his brows, his mouth tilting down in a smile. He was new to the whole ‘local celebrity’ deal, but this by far, is probably one of the least impressed reactions he’d ever had. She clearly knew he wasn’t in school, but had still taken the kind courtesy to ask him the question, despite the futility of it.

He nodded. 

“I only know one Pens player.” Then she pointed to something out of the window, “That banner has been staring at me every week for the past three months.”

Sidney huffed a laugh, thinking she was joking, but followed her finger anyway. He was immediately faced with a street corner, tens of people walking past each other – he could even make out their voices if he concentrated hard enough, and it took a while to figure out what exactly she was pointing at, until his eyes settled on a billboard at least a block down.

He’d been told that for press reasons, the Pens had come up with the idea of a way of promoting him as a player, and a ‘person of Pittsburgh’, by plastering some action shots of him – still staged – around the city. He’d neglected to look up lately, fearing that if he did, he’d be faced with some images of himself, but he hadn’t escaped that entirely.

The billboard was small, and he wasn’t the only player on there, either, but he saw it nonetheless. 

When he spun back around to look at her once more, the only thing that came out of his mouth was, “There’s two other players, not just me.”

She shrugged, “I was talking about Sergei Gonchar.”

Sidney felt the blush colour from his chest to his cheeks as he slowly put his hands over his face, consumed by humiliation. He felt himself smile into his hands when he heard the girl huff a snicker. He’d had quite a few people as of late kissing up to his ego, and apart from his teammates, she was the first one to really deliver a considerable blow – and he was thankful for that; that at least someone still had the ability to look past who he was and tease him like he was a normal person. He was aware of the irony that lay there.

He gathered himself, unabashedly removing his hands and displaying the creeping blush for her to see, and sticking his hand between them, “Sidney Crosby, rookie center for the Pittsburgh Penguins.”

She rolled her eyes, not commenting on the state of his cheeks, her smile fading slightly but still remaining, “I was joking, I know who you are.” She took his hand in hers, gripping it tightly, “Nat Brooks. Student.”

Sidney swallowed, his blush remaining for other reasons, and pulled his hand away, flexing it under the table, “Is Nat short for anything?”

“Natalia.”

“‘S very pretty.” He mumbled, and she smiled sweetly.

“Sidney’s very pretty, too. It suits you.”

Something clenched in his chest.

[44-mr-midnight-44]

"(FUCK YOU YOU AQUAMARINE ANGRY LITTLE SHIT!)"

Atop the tall podium, rinsed in an iridescent, golden hue, a celestial rim washing down each corner; trimmed by a dusty silver, shivering with a pearly shine.

"[WHAT DID I DO, HUH? EXACTLY WHAT? DID I STAND WRONG? DID MY EYESIGHT MAKE YOU JEALOUS? AM I OFFENDING YOU WITH MY ABILITY TO SHUT UP?]"

The audience, cornered in the nooks of their seats, twitched and bowed at the rancorous uproar.

"(WELL IIIIIII'M SORRY, I HAD TO CARRY US ALLLLLL THE WAY HERE, YOU GODDAMN CUCK!)"

"Guys…" A well-heighted man, head the shape and hue of a noble planet. "You both won, you don't have to–"

"[WHAT DO YOU MEAN 'CARRY', YOU TURKEY-BRAINED BODY ODOUR-FRAGRANTED PURPLE MASS OF DEPRESSED RODENTS?]" Mind tightly roared from the crease of his lips, whipping his brand new sun trophy onto the podium; a hard, metallic clatter snapping into the flooring. "[IF IT WEREN'T FOR ME, WE WOULDN'T EVEN HAVE INFORMATION OUT THERE ABOUT OUR RIGHTS TO THIS SEAT!]"

"(ARE YOU KIDDING? EVERY CHONNY JASH FAN LOVES ME! I'VE GOT FUCKING APOLOGISTS! YOU'VE GOT PEOPLE WHO FRAME YOU AS THE NARRATIVE'S VILLAIN 'COS YOU SUCK THAT BAD!)"

"[YEAH, AND WHO WAS THE ONE WHO SET UP YOUR KEYBOARDS? AND TRANSLATED SHEET MUSIC INTO SOMETHING YOUR SORRY ASS COULD UNDERSTAND? AND–]"

"(SHUT–)"

"[AND FIGURED OUT HOW TO SET UP YOUR STUPID FUCKING AIR-CONDITIONER, BECAUSE–]"

"(I PAY FOR YOUR PAINKILLER PRESCRIPTION!)"

"['(OHHHHH, I CAN'T FOCUS IN THE HEAT! BUT I WEAR BAGGY HOODIES AND TWO-LAYERED PYJAMAS AND)–']"

"(AT LEAST I DON'T EAT MY GOLDFISHES!)"

"[AT LEAST I DON'T PLAY FNAF SONGS ON THE PIANO AT FOUR IN THE GODDAMN MORNING!]"

"(I WROTE THE BEST SONGS FOR OUR ALBUM! WITHOUT ME, OUR STORY OF HOW WE SUFFERED (MOSTLY BECAUSE OF YOU) WOULD'VE NEVER BEEN KNOWN!)"

"[NAME ONE PERSON WHO USES GOOD DAY AS AUDIO!]"

Words torn from mouth and crashing into each timorous ear surrounding the two, pronounced in a very ired, Australian tongue.

Arms furiously stretched and swung and feet stamped to enunciate visible outrage.

"Yeesh, Moon… I always thought our relationship was bad, but it seems like sun and moons across the universe can get so much worse…" Sun shivered, a quick tug on his coarse yet metallic collar, punctuated by a swift glance to his lunar counterpart. "Over where we're from, we have to deal with living in a giant animatronic mall and occasionally the works of cross-dimensional madness. But over there, it seems to me they really need to learn a lesson about getting along!"

"I could take them in a fight with a small dresser tied to my dominant hand." Moon stared, unblinking, body as stiff as a long rock.

The other contestants watched as the words were rocked and tossed in a staggering hatred.

At one point, Heart's wings had enlarged to mimic that of a threatened bird inflating its stance to appear larger; Mind's chest hummed with the overwork of his fans.

Suns and moons from all sorts of solar systems stationed across the multiverse watched in horror.

Two of them were those guys from Nimona, but I don't know dick about shit about Nimona so you gotta use your imagination for that one.

"Right right, you two have your trophy, just…" The celestial staff member disarmingly motioned their hands, gazing down at the two halves. "What are you going to do with your prize money?"

"(Oh, I'm probably gonna use it on an invasive wildflower and a seven hundred AUD life-sized Lopunny plush.)"

"[To pay off my severe prescription zolmitriptan debt that I'm four months behind on because I spent half my yearly salary on a car that I ended up crashing because of a migraine.]"

Happy tiny niche fandom winning against FNaF and Nimona for all who celebrate

Reblogs > Likes

[c0la-queen]

I’m begging for more EDD X READERS AND TOM X READER PLSPSLPSPSL I NEED MORE EDDSWORLD CONTENT UGHHHHHHH🙏🙏

Turn the Noise Off | Eddsworld Tom x Reader

HELLO, HI OH MY GODS!!! I am BEYOND happy to provide more Eddsworld content for you!! They've been one of my longest and most present hyperfixations for years, those four boys bring me so much serotonin. Since I don't write for him as often as I should, here's some Tom content!! I hope you enjoy and please feel free to ask for more!! Waking up to your request made me feel so so nice!

Warnings: Comfort, Fluff, Astraphobia, Tom is a big softie and I'm RIGHT

Words: 2.3k

---

Fear can be irrational.

You know that. That's why children and even adults can be scared of silly things that reasonably can't hurt them.

Clowns, darkness, dentists, enclosed spaces…

…thunderstorms.

You weren't sure why exactly you were scared of thunderstorms. It had been like this since you were little. The moment you noticed the faintest flash of lightning, you'd rush out of your room and wiggle your way into your parents' bed, fearfully awaiting the booming noise that followed. Now, as an adult, you can handle it in minor doses. Light rain, faint thunder; it made you apprehensive, but you could distract yourself enough to stay calm. It was the stronger storms that set you off.

Like now.

It was probably around 6 or 7 p.m. The sun had set half an hour ago, leaving the sky outside the window an inky black. You were alone in the house - the boys had left to go shopping and pick up dinner. Knowing them, they'd probably be gone for another hour or so.

Normally, you wouldn't be so bad. You were an adult. You can handle a silly storm.

Not this time. Not tonight.

Your noise cancelling headphones were dead.

Sure, you could stick them on the charger easily. But they would take too long to charge. The storm would probably be gone by the time they finished. And in the meantime, you would have still been stuck in this same position. Besides, your brain was running off anxiety, you weren't exactly thinking clearly.

You were in the living room, since you had been watching one of your favorite shows on TV previously. The storm had interfered with the connection, so you couldn't continue watching it in the time being, even if you wanted to. Feeling antsy on the couch, and not being able to find a comfortable position on the soft cushions, you had slid yourself down to the carpeted floor instead. It was soft, but the texture was still a little rough against your skin. It kept you grounded slightly. Enough to know you were there, in your body still. Legs pulled up to your chest, you hid your face in your knees, eyes shut tight. You listened to the torrents of rain crash against the roof, the walls, the windows, battering at the house like an intruder attempting to break in. The thunder rattled the earth, shaking the ground with the power of its volume. Despite the little voice in your head telling you that the storm would pass, you couldn't help but be afraid.

You were going to die. You were going to die. You were going to-

You flinched when something touched the top of your head. With a wet gasp, your head shot up. Was it really an intruder, entrance hidden underneath the violence of the storm?

No, it was… Tom. Dressed in his normal hoodie and a pair of sweatpants. He knelt on the floor in front of you, making sure he was level with you. Even though the black hue of his eyes made it impossible to see any emotion in them, you saw that his lips were bent into a soft frown. Concern. His lips moved, going to speak, but his words were drowned out by a crash of thunder. You involuntarily whimpered, unable to hold the noise back from your throat. Burying your face back in your knees, you missed the way Tom's eyes widened as he realized what was happening.

The hand on your shoulder slid down to your bicep. You could feel the warmth of his skin seep into your bones as his fingers wrapped around it. He pulled -

-and then you were surrounded by the warmth. Your face pressed into something warm. Solid. The familiar scent of coffee and something woodsy with the faintest hint of smoke - fire or cigarettes, you could never figure out - completely filled your senses. It was Tom. He had pulled you into a hug.

You felt your muscles go slack. Pulling your face from his chest, you peeked up at him. He was already looking down at you. Still no emotions in those eyes. But you felt his hands cup your cheeks, gently, as if you were made of glass. His thumbs swiped away the tears that you hadn't even noticed were spilling. They stung your cheeks.

His voice was soft, like he was speaking to a frightened animal. That's what you felt like at that moment.

"Talk to me, sweet girl."

Something in the back of your brain slid into place at the name. An instinctual piece of you that melted into his arms, knowing you were safe right there. You fought past the thick lump of saliva in your throat to speak. Voice raw from tears and anxiety.

"It's just.. the storm."

"I gathered that much. What is it the storm itself? Or something about it?"

There was no malice or bite in his voice. Only tenderness and worry. Care.

"It's, um, the thunder? Or how- how loud it is. And how the rain is loud. It's stupid, I know…"

You sniffled and looked down at your lap, fidgeting with your fingers. Tom said nothing. It scared you for a moment. That fear intensified when you felt him move, beginning to slide you out of his embrace. Your fingers flew up, curling into the fabric of his hoodie as you clung to his shoulders. He did think it was stupid. He was going to leave you all alone, make you get over this by yourself-

"I'll be right back, baby. Gotta let me go get something."

Finally, you relented. He set you back on the carpet, standing up. You stared at the floor, listening to his socked footsteps fade away. You silently counted the seconds until his footsteps returned, his legs coming into your field of vision. Something fell onto your head before you could look up at him. It was fabric, and carried that woodsy scent of his. Your hand curled into the fabric, pulling it off your head and into your lap. Even in the limited light, you could identify the blue color. It was his hoodie.

Eagerly, you slipped it on over your t-shirt. He wasn't too much taller than you compared to the others, but the material still swallowed you in a way that you loved. It was like a safety net for your brain. When your head finally emerged through the hood, he was already sitting back down in front of you. The smile on his face made your heart skip a beat. It wasn't often you got to see him being so soft.

Tom reached forward, slipping something slightly heavier onto your head. When it was over your ears, you felt all the noise in the room disappear. You looked up at him in awe, making his smile stretch further. He had brought you his own noise cancelling headphones.

With the sounds of the storm cut away, you focused in on his appearance more closely. Since you were wearing his hoodie, he was left in a t-shirt. His hair was mussed, strands of it out of place. You figured he had recently gotten out of bed. When Edd had announced to you that they were going out, you assumed he meant all four of them. Tom must have chosen to stay behind. You weren't sure if it was because of a simple lack of desire to leave the house, or if he didn't want to leave you in the house by yourself. The idea of the latter option made your heart speed up, even if it wasn't true.

You noticed he was looking at you expectantly. When your head tilted in confusion, his shoulders shook. He was laughing at you. While the rare sight warmed your cheeks, you pouted at him in embarrassment. Why was he laughing at you?

Your eyes followed his when he motioned down. His phone was in his hand, screen towards you as it sat open to Spotify. Your gaze raked down the playlists on display. The Best Ska, Quiet Rainy Days, Shut the Fuck Up, Tord-

This were his playlists. You looked up at him in shock. To some, this may have seemed mundane. Unimportant. But you knew better.

In a house with boys who had never known conventional forms of affection, you had learned to spot the little things. To read between the lines of their words and actions.

Music was one of Tom's love languages. It was no secret to anyone that the man loved music, playing bass was his joy and passion during the moments that he didn't have a camera in his hands. For him, sharing his music with others was a show of affection, a glimpse into his brain through lyrics and instrumentals. And right now, he was letting you look through his Spotify playlists and choose one to listen to. Sure, you had listened to his music before in the car, when he had control of the aux. But during those times, he picked the playlists. Now, he was giving you control. It felt… vulnerable, in a way.

Carefully, hands trembling lightly, you took the phone from his hands. You could swear that from your peripheral vision, you caught him grinning. Almost like he was amused with how reverently you treated this act.

Then, you focused your attention on the playlists. There were a lot of them, you realized as you scrolled. Some of the names made you laugh softly. But then, one playlist caught your attention.

She's Standing Outside the Bar with Me while I Smoke

That was way too specific to not be something important. The playlist cover was a picture of a blurry figure standing outside of a building, looking up at the stars. Smoke from somewhere off camera gave the picture a hazy filter. With a jolt, you realized it was a picture of you. You recognized the building, it was the bar in town that Tom liked. The memory hit you suddenly.

It was Tord's birthday, and the boys wanted to go out drinking to celebrate it. Not wanting to miss out on the celebration, you had tagged along. None of them minded.

The bar was nice. You saw why Tom favored it. The décor was all dark wood and dark accents. It was crowded that night. Judging by the big group at the corner of the place, it was likely some kind of party. Maybe a bachelorette, or someone else's birthday. At some point, it had gotten too loud. Even from your little booth on the other side of the room, the music pulsed loud enough that you felt it throb in your head. To try and lessen the inevitable headache coming your way, you followed Tom when you noticed him slip out of the booth and through the front door. The night air had been a comfort to your senses. Tom had seemed surprised to see you, but didn't complain about the company. The two of you stood on the little wood ramp in a peaceful silence. At some point, you had gotten distracted by the night sky, spotting Orion's belt. He must have taken a picture of you during that time, between puffs of his cigarette.

Your cheeks heated up. That meant… this playlist.. was made for that memory. For you. You clicked on that playlist.

Tom must have noticed your blush, because he raised an eyebrow questioningly at you. Shyly, you showed him the playlist he selected. It was his turn to look away, flustered. But, you spotted a smile on his lips.

You set the phone on the ground between the two of you, focusing on the song that was playing. It was slow, calm, and so very Tom. The lyrics made something tight press against your chest. This was how Tom felt about you. This was a hint of how he saw you. You could feel his eyes on you, trying to decipher your reaction.

Taking a deep breath, you opened your eyes. He looked more antsy than you had ever seen him. It was important to him that you liked it. You made sure that your eyes held all the adoration you felt for him. It must have worked, because you noticed the faintest hint of a blush on his cheeks. His chest moved in what you recognized as a huff, then he reached an arm out, pulling you into his arms once again. All over again, your body melted into his hold. You closed your eyes.

No storm could reach you here.

You were safe.

--

Edd huffed as he opened the front door, shuffling in to try and escape the rain. Tord and Matt followed behind him, holding the grocery bags while Edd carried the takeout they had gotten everyone for dinner.

Just as Edd was about to call out, announcing their presence, Tord's elbow jabbed into his side. He grunted softly, then glared at him. Before he could snap, ask what the hell that was for, Tord pointed off to the side. Edd's gaze followed that direction.

Sitting on the living room floor was Tom, his back pressed against the couch. You were in his arms, face buried in his chest, wearing his hoodie. Edd recognized the black and white checker pattern on the headphones you were wearing - they were also Tom's. Both of you were fast asleep, chests rising and falling evenly.

Edd felt all his annoyance with Tord bleed away into tenderness at the sight. Joy filled his chest. He just couldn't help it as he shuffled the takeout bags onto one arm and pulled out his phone, snapping a silent picture of the two.

Muffling little giggles, Matt quickly ushered Tord and Edd into the kitchen, leaving you and Tom to sleep undisturbed.

[jungmeowz]

Ꮺ ָ࣪ ⊹ blurred love - S.JY

002: for the nth time

synops; sim jaeyun your first love, the person who you believe is the love of your life, but he's not yours. sum: series of written passages where you reflect on your relationship with jaeyun and try to find closure.

genre: angst, first love, closure

tw: foul language, heartbreaks, etc. etc.

word count: 740

When we separated our ways, I did not look back and it was because of being in denial. When reality finally hit that's where the denial broke and all I could ever do is cry and mourn over something that was way past the expiration date. While I was mourning and grieving on us, Jaeyun was already with someone else that wasn’t me, and that’s what killed me the most. But it was no one’s fault but mine, and it was something that I'll never forgive myself for. So I wondered, how many nth times could I stop loving him? The answer was zero, but for how many nth times could I love him? The answer was indefinite, which led to the final conclusion for how many nth times there was, there was no doubt that I was still in love with him. 

For every reminisce there was between us, I always ended up blaming myself and crying over us and It was the fact that I couldn’t stop loving you and getting over you. For every thought there was about us, it was always regretting not fighting for us, for always believing there was an us in the future, and that we were the end game. But that was the delusional side of me talking, and the desperation inside of me. 

I held a lot of resentment when we separated at first, but it wasn’t just towards myself, it was also towards Jaeyun. I admit I blamed him at first, but that’s because I was selfish and wanted to blame him for our fall out. I wanted to paint him as the enemy in my brain, but in the end my love for him was stronger than hating him. Despite separating, I thought I could finish loving him and start saying I had loved him. I thought I could convince myself to say he was my first love and he wouldn't be my last love and I believed it up to a certain point. 

Everything changed when we reconciled for the last time and came to an agreement to let “everything” off our chest to find the closure we both needed and wanted. Jaeyun ended up being able to find it, while I was still at a loss if this was the way I wanted it. Truth be told I wasn’t as honest as I thought I'd be when we talked, but I knew he was. Jaeyun let everything out, while I sat there and listened while nodding. As compared to me, I couldn’t bring myself to let everything out because speaking out loud my feelings would force me to accept that I wasn’t over him, and he wasn’t someone I loved, but someone I am still in love with. 

We had our differences in our relationship, there was a point in time where I shut you out of my life while we were together because I was stubborn and convinced I could figure it out on my own, and he wouldn’t understand where I was coming from. I should’ve had more faith in him, and I should’ve believed in him, and I should’ve let him love me. It was my fault, but I had blamed him still during that time for not fighting us, and painted him as the villain, when in reality it was me. 

“I wish I was more understanding about those feelings you were having when we were together,”

With one sentence written to me, it was when my heart shattered, for the nth time my heart was broken into pieces and this time I didn’t know how to fix it, because I knew this time, it was clear that I wasn’t over us. He wasn’t just my first love, he was still someone I couldn’t let go and couldn’t stop loving, and that’s what hurt the most. It was believing that Jaeyun was nothing more than someone I had loved so much only to be forced to accept the harsh reality it was deeper than that. Six years of loving him, five years of being apart, four years of blaming, three years convincing he was just my first love, two years later reconciling, and one year later finally accepting still being in love with him. 

So tell me, what is the nth time for having him break my heart? And then the nth time of loving him? The answer was simple; both indefinite

prev - next

blurred love masterlist

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° ᴇɴʜʏᴘᴇɴ ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ ° ᡣ𐭩 . °

[phightingconfessions]

here you go lmao

----

GOD banhammer is so fucking perfect, i've been staring at a picture of him in some way shape or form for probably like fifteen hours out of the last three days. he is just so very mwah i wanna bite his armor it looks so fucking cool bro. and his teeth, good LIRD his fucking teeth those chompers are driving me insane. i wanna put my hand in his mouth and i don't think i'd even be upset if he bit me for that, hell i want him to bite me. he could step on me too and pick me up and throw me down the stairs and i wouldn't even be mad. did i mention how fucking tall he is? mans is like 6 foot 11 inches, thats bonkers, he could punt me into the sun and i'd let him. his hands are probably huge as fuck too. i want him to hold me but i'd settle for being manhandled into a jail cell. he probably patrols the cells on occasion since he's just built different and i'd stand in my 'pathetic homosexual loser' cage and give him a gay little wave as he walks past. blow him a kiss and all that. he might not even notice because he's blindfolded which would be saddening but hey maybe i'll get to feel his touch when he drags me off to be executed or whatever. does he even execute his prisoners at all? if he doesn't i guess i will just rot in that cell until he sees fit to release me. bummer. or perhaps i could seduce him into letting me work as an assistant/maid/etc for him instead. he seems like he'd get off on having someone to order around directly, and i wouldn't mind obeying his every command. anyways as much as i'd enjoy letting him order me around it would probably get boring eventually. he'd probably melt immediately if i gave off even a whiff of dominance. mans still listens to his mom for fucks sake, he'll fold like a wet napkin if i yank him down to his knees and grab his chin. that might be tough with the size difference though. i could back him into a corner and grab his horns and pull his face down to mine and then kiss him or whisper to him or whatever. fuck yeah. not to mention he's blindfolded too, so i could mess around with that. he'd probably be kinda mouthy about it, especially if we have a significant strength difference, but he'd like it. putting a hand in his mouth would probably shut him up. god the thought of running my hand along his teeth is just so fucking enthralling. they look kinda similar to shark teeth. built to maul people and yet here i am touching them like the most foolish creature upon god's green earth. cough this is getting a little too immersive whoops fuck uhhh right! his armor. the gems everywhere is attractive. shiny objects are so cool and banhammer has a gem on like every section of his armor. they probably make cuddling a tiny bit uncomfortable but that's par for the course with armor. i'd put up with it. his weapon looks sick as hell too but i am not a weapons connoisseur, i am a men connoisseur. and this one is delicious cough right his armor. his boots look pretty tough. they probably have treads that'd leave a good mark if he stepped on my back. that'd be cool. i'd let him dig his heel into me with great force. god at this point i dont even wanna fuck him i just want to either destroy or be destroyed by this man. good fucking god why did i write so much. *checks wiki* right he has four eyes. assuming they look like his mom's do it'd probably be pretty cute. two little extra ones beside his normal eyes. he probably winks by closing half his eyes. and now i'm thinking of various seductive faces he could make. i am down so bad i can't even. i wanna kiss him choke him slam him into a wall. or have him do that to me. i'm not picky. one of us is gonna be pathetic, obedient, and submissive and i frankly do not give a fuck which one it ends up being. i'd let him put a collar on me. the thought of banhammer wearing a collar is making my brain do terrible horrible things so i will leave it at that. i do draw the line at like 'daddy' shit tho that's not for me at all & he probably has daddy issues anyway

I've read this like 5 times and I have determined. I will post it.

behold: the banhammer manifesto. I don't think it gets crazier than this I think we've reached craziest post about ban on this blog. well done everyone! I'm going to go cry now bye forever /j

[strangesthirdeye]

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 2 : ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴋɪɴᴅ ᴏғ ғʟᴀᴠᴏʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʏᴘᴇ ᴏғ ᴡɪᴛᴄʜ?

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭.

Prologue > Chapter 1 > Chapter 3

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

• NUMBER FOUR PRIVET DRIVE •

"We swear, We don't know how it happened! One minute the glass was there and then

it was gone. It was like magic." Harry said, his ear hurt from being dragged by Uncle Vernon.

"The glass just poff, Uncle Vernon. Surely you know that kids like us wouldn't do such an impossible thing!" You said out of breath as Uncle Vernon pulled the collar of your shirt from behind. You struggle to be released from his custody.

"There's no such thing as magic!" Uncle Vernon shouted angrily as he dragged you both towards the cupboard under the stairs.

You yelped in protest and squirmed in Uncle Vernon's arms while Harry winced in pain at his ears being pulled hard by Uncle Vernon. Uncle Vernon unlocked the cupboard and threw you both into the cupboard before slamming the door and locking it. You cursed under your breath and brushed yourself from the wrinkles in your shirt while Harry sat quietly while rubbing his sore ear.

"That stupid man didn't use his brain at all to think that children like us would do such a thing." you huffed and leaned against the cupboard wall. Arms crossing over your chest, you frowned.

Harry glanced at you briefly. "but you saw it with your own eyes didn't you? the glass suddenly disappeared and reappeared after the python came out. That's quite impossible" Harry said and leaned next to you too, eyes looking at the locked cupboard door.

You scoffed. "If only Dudley didn't behave like an ape, this wouldn't happen. We wouldn't be locked up and not fed for a week" you huffed in frustration. "oh for goodness sake! Why does it have to be like this?!"

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Dudley parades about the kitchen in knickerbockers, tailcoat and straw boater, tapping the floor with a Knobbly stick, while a teary Aunt Petunia snaps a photo with a flash camera. A glance at Dudley, I don't have any weird metaphor now but he does look like an elephant in a shirt.

"Oh, Vernon, look at him. To think in only a week he'll be off to Smeltings." Aunt Petunia gushed.

Uncle Vernon smiled excitedly. "Proudest moment of my life"

"shameful moment of my life" you whispered, rolling your eyes at Dudley.

Harry looked at Petunia with dread. "will i have to wear that too?"

Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon looked at him as if he was stupid although he wasn't one before the let out a mocking laughed at him. "You! Go to Smeltings? Don't be stupid You'll go to state school, where you belong. That there'll be yours, once I'm done dying it" Aunt Petunia walked to the kitchen, Harry and you followed her from behind. You cover your nose upon smelling a musty smell. "Your sister will not be with you as she is going to the Girls' school. That's where she belongs to learn her manners" Aunt Petunia added while taking out the old soaked uniform with tongs.

"I don't need someone to teach me manners. I'm fine the way I am. It's you who needs to be taught" you argued.

Aunt Petunia glared at you with hatred. "You said something like that again, there won't be any food for two weeks." she warned which you do not mind.

Your stomach is used to being hungry for a long time. So that's pretty common. Harry on the other hand only a week maximum which you are grateful that he doesn't have to go through the same consequences as you even though he is the older twin who is supposed to protect his youngest sibling.

But you're the type that likes to look for troubles so you don't care about siblings protect siblings term because those punishments have a reason why you're the only one who gets it. Which is your fault too for not keeping your mouth shut like now.

Harry glanced at a tub of gray mud boiling on the stove. He looked at it with disgust while you seemed to want to vomit at that foul smell.

'The smell gives me a headache' you thought. You held your nose from inhaling the poisonous smell

"But that's Dudley's old uniform. It'll fit me like bits of old elephant skin." Harry said, eyes focusing on Dudley's old shirt which was too big for Harry.

"What about my uniform. You yourself said I was going to another school." you looked at aunt Petunia strangely.

"Fit you fine enough and I'll find some old uniforms from parents whose daughter goes to the same school and dye it too" she replied to Harry without looking at him.

"cruel" You whispered which only Harry heard. Harry silently agreed.

"go get the post. Go!" Aunt Petunia ordered Harry.

Harry shook his head and moved out of the kitchen to the door, you sent him a sympathetic look.

"And you, go mop the floor, I don't want you to waste your time just standing here. Go" Aunt Petunia demanded before turning her gaze to the dying pot of the old uniform.

You grumbled and walked to the store where the mop and bucket were kept. You took the two items and walked to the bathroom to fill the bucket with soap before doing your forced task. You wring the mop and mop the floor.

Back to Harry, there are 4 letters on the mat. A bill, a postcard and envelopes of yellow parchment.

Harry takes all, then stops, staring at the envelope, which is addressed in emerald ink.

Mr. H. Potter

The Cupboard Under The Stairs

4 Privet Drive

Little Whinging

Surrey

Harry turns the envelope over, finds a purple wax. It is a coat of arms, surrounding a large letter H. Harry shuffled another letter in his hand which is addressed to you.

Ms. F/i. Potter

The Cupboard Under The Stairs

4 Privet Drive

Little Whinging

Surrey

Harry eyes focusing on two letters addressed to you and him in puzzled. Who in their right mind wants to send letters to both of them? Is this a joke? It might be a joke. No one knows who they are.

Harry walked towards the kitchen, hands clutched 4 letters but his eyes only focused on the two mysterious letters. You who just finished mopping the floor looked at Harry odd behavior.

"Harry?" You called him.

Harry lifted his head to look at you before he walked towards you and gave you a mysterious letter. You took the letter and looked at it weirdly. It has your name and your cupboard address.

You frowned in confusion. This is probably just a joke. As long as you live, no one has ever sent a letter in your name. Until now. Whoever sent you this letter better be prime minister or any powerful people who want to offer you a good position in their cult. What a weird metaphor. The letter even has the cupboard address where you live. How come that person who sent this letter knows where you live. Harry probably got the same letter because he seemed lost for words as he gives the other two letters to uncle Vernon. His eyes focusing on the letter in his hands. Dudley who noticed Harry's hands holding the mysterious letter quickly snatched his letter out of his hand.

"Dad! Look! Harry's got a letter!" Dudley exclaimed as he gave the letter to his dad.

Seeing this, you quickly folded the letter and hid it in the pocket of your baggy pants and continued mopping the floor. You haven't opened the letter yet so you better not let the letter go through the same fate as Harry's letter. You looked at the floor while mopping, ignoring the other human at the dining table who was fussing about Harry got a letter. You hummed Bohemian Rhapsody in your throat softly.

Harry determined to get his letter trying to snatched his letter back from Uncle Vernon's hand to which Uncle Vernon brought the letter out of his reach.

"that's mine!" Harry yelled.

Uncle Vernon looked at him in disbelief. He grinned. "Yours? Who'd be writing to you-" His face automatically goes pale. Uncle Vernon looked at his wife with knowing looked while Aunt Petunia seems uncertain.

Harry gulped.

"the girl.. She must get the same letter. Get the girl now" Uncle Vernon told his wife.

Aunt Petunia turned and walked towards you who was still mopping the floor. She forcefully takes your elbow and pulls you to the dining table. You yelped in surprise.

"Give me the letter now" Aunt Petunia hissed.

"What letter?" you cocked your head to the side a little.

"Don't play dumb, girl. Give us the letter you got!" Uncle Vernon shouted.

"I don't know what letter you two mean! I don't have any letter!" you lied

"Check the girl, Petunia. She must hide it in her pants pocket" Uncle Vernon said to his wife. His face was very red when he looked at you.

Aunt Petunia moved to you and forcefully checked your pants pocket while you tried to smack her hands. Aunt Petunia put her hand in your pants pocket and managed to pull out the mysterious letter you got. You looked at her with hatred as you tried to take the letter back from Aunt Petunia's hand, but Aunt Petunia took it out of your reach.

"that's mine! Give it back!" you yelled furiously.

"Shut up and go back to your cupboard!" Uncle Vernon yelled angrily.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The next day, like the day before, there are 6 letters that are the same as the first day on the mat. Uncle Vernon who was in the front hall breathed furiously as he took the six letters and tore all the letters out of rage.

You who wear reading glasses and are leaning against the wall with a book of Greek Mythology on your lap, looked up from the book you were reading after hearing a loud drilling from the front hall. Harry who was quietly playing his miniature horse turned his body towards you in confused. You shrugged your shoulders at him as if you didn't know.

"No more mail through this letterbox"

You frowned in question.

Harry decided to open the cupboard door a little, you put your Greek mythology book aside and leaned in a bit to peek out of the cupboard. There Uncle Vernon was drilling the letterbox with screws and a medium-sized board with a wireless drilling machine in his hand.

"the hell" you muttered before returning to your position as Harry looked at Uncle Vernon with displeasure as he closed the cupboard door.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The next day, Uncle Vernon who was wearing his work suit held the briefcase tightly in his hand. He is ready to go to work. Aunt Petunia kissed his cheek lovingly.

"Have a lovely day at the office, dear" Aunt Petunia said to him, lovingly as she kissed his cheek but then her face changed after spotting several owls on the car.

Uncle Vernon turned and was a little shocked when he spotted the owls. He then waving his briefcase, trying to shoo the owls on his car but the owls do nothing.

"Shoo! Go on!" he shooed the owls.

Aunt Petunia, as if sensing something wrong looked down and spotted some letters addressed to you and Harry. She patted his husband's arms. Her eyes still on the letters above on the pavement. Uncle Vernon turned his gaze to the pavement and saw the letters in disbelief.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Another day, Aunt Petunia was in the kitchen preparing to make breakfast. She took an egg container and set it on the kitchen counter before she took a bowl and set it in front of her. She then cracked an egg but she suddenly turned confused when she saw that there was no content in the egg instead there was a letter in it.

She breathed heavily before she cracked another egg but it was still the same. Her face began to show a feeling of terror as she cracked another egg and another and another but the content was still the same. A letter addressed to you and Harry. A sound of birds can be heard outside the kitchen window. Aunt Petunia looked out the window in terror before she screamed in fear when she spotted a few owls outside her house.

You looked up from your book and frowned.

"shesh.. She must be stressed" you mumbled.

Harry hummed in agreement as he lay down and boredly played with some of Dudley's broken toys to relieve the boredom.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Another day, at night you and Harry came out of the cupboard to drink water but then you both stopped in the living room when you ran into Uncle Vernon who was burning something in the fireplace. You looked at him with hate.

He burned the same letters one by one in the fireplace with a smug face. He looks satisfied. He laughed and double checked you both before he waved a letter with your name written on it and tossed it into the fireplace.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"Fine day, Sunday. Best day of the week in my opinion. Know why I say that, Dudley?" Uncle Vernon said happily.

Dudley who was sitting in front of his mother shook his head. You and Harry, who was assigned to pour tea and offer cookies to the family, looked at Uncle Vernon with a resigned look.

"Because there's no post on Sundays." Harry muttered while offering Uncle Vernon cookies who took the cookie smugly.

"Right you are, Harry! No post on Sunday, hah! " he beamed with satisfaction.

You rolled your eyes before moving to Aunt Petunia who was holding her teacup towards you without looking at you as her attention was only on Dudley, expecting you to pour her tea. You sighed and poured tea into her cup. Silently wished that the tea she drank was bitter.

You put the teapot on the table after your task is done. You sigh lightly. Mind thought about the mysterious letters that Aunt and Uncle Dursley destroyed whenever they found it before the two of you. What are they afraid of the letters? Why are they acting weird whenever the letters are sent? More important, who sent the mysterious letter like there's no tomorrow? A huge amount of letters scattered throughout the day, who doesn't find it strange?

"No blasted letters today! No, sir. Not one single bloody letter. Not one-" Uncle Vernon said in delightful.

You scoffed at him and looked at the family with contempt. Why did they take you both in if they treated you like servants? You looked out the window. You narrowed your eyes when you saw several owls outside the house.

"No, sir, not one blasted, miserable-" he jerked in shock when he felt something thrown at him.

Out of the sudden, as if there was an earthquake. A loud noise started to be heard from the fireplace making the family look at each other strangely before turned to terror when many letters pouring out of the fireplace as if someone blasted the letters out of the fireplace.

The family screamed in terror at that. Aunt Petunia and Dudley hugged while Uncle Vernon screamed in terror.

"Make it stop!" Dudley screamed.

You and Harry grinned and starting to snatched the letters before Uncle Vernon stopped you and Harry. You kneeled to the floor to pick up the letter with your initials written on it while Harry who climbed pm top of the table took the letter with his name on it. You scoffed at him.

'Why can't he just pick up the letter on the floor?!' you thought before quickly running out of the living room to go to your cupboard but then you suddenly feel as if tugging on your mid section.

A sausage hand in your mid section pulled you in front of the cupboard with Harry in another hand. Uncle Vernon gripped both of you hard while you both shouted to be released and struggled in his arms. Suddenly another wave of letters came out of the letterbox, making it hard for Uncle Vernon to grab you both but he managed.

'dammit this man is strong' you struggle to let go. The letter in your hand crumpled in your grip.

"Get off!" Harry shouted.

"Let me go!" You elbowed Uncle Vernon's stomach.

"That does it! We're going away! Far away

Where they can't find us! Where they can't get to us!" Uncle Vernon shouted in the letters attacked.

"Daddy's gone mad, hasn't he?" Dudley said in feared.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

A very sad-looking hut sits perched upon a Targe Rock far at sea. Wind whistles. The sea rages. Heavy rain with lightning strikes like there is no tomorrow.

You who was lying on the ragged blanket next to Harry, grinning while drawing candles on the dust on the floor while Harry put a last touch on the cake you both etched on the dusty floor. Harry grinned contentedly and turned his head to the digital watch that Dudley was wearing. Dudley snores loudly making you roll your eyes annoyingly.

'pig' you said in your heart.

The digital clock ticked to midnight, You and Harry smiled at each other.

"Make a wish, Harry" you said, smiling.

"You too, Y/n" Harry replied.

The both of you closed your eyes to make a wish before blowing out the 'candle' in unison and the 'flames' of dust scattered around. Eyes still closed, you both hold your wish.

BANG! You both jerked in shock amd so was Dudley who woke up from his sleep with shock with sudden noise then he quickly got up from the broken sofa. The door shudders on the hinges when something seemed to try to break in. You and Harry petrified at that before Harry pulled your hand away and rushed to hide. Harry leaning against the walls and so was you but you seemed to be trying to hide your whole body against the wall making your right arm bumped against the stone wall hard. You hissed softly. Harry looked at you with concern. You just waved your uninjured hand at your brother.

You know that your hand will leave bruises later. You two keep quiet.

BOOM! A pin squirrels out of its housing. Falls to the floor. You covered your mouth with your palm, trying to keep yourself from screaming as Harry hugged your body closer to him protectively. Heart racing in the chest as nervousness and fear began to increase when the wooden door that was about to collapse was banged. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia who woke up due to the sudden noise came down from their bedroom. Uncle Vernon had a rifle in his hand as he pointed the rifle at the door of the hut. His face held anxious and nervous feelings while Aunt Petunia was scared and shaking like a leaf.

"Who's there? I warn you--I'm armed!" Uncle Vernon warned as he still aimed the rifle at the door of the hut. Finger on the trigger.

SMASH! The door of the hut fell to the floor and was torn from its hinges. An immense silhouette that was very massive bowed slightly to enter the hut. He is so tall that his head almost reaches the ceiling. His massive body shows that he is a strong person. His face is covered with a thick mustache while his hair is so long and thick. In his hand there is an umbrella. He wears a thick brown long coat and wears dark brown pants with a boots.

You and Harry were stunned to see the giant mysterious man. Mouth agape and eyes widened. The Dursley shaking in fear upon seeing the giant man.

"Er, right. Sorry 'bout that.. " the giant man apologized with his rough voice before he turned and lifted the collapsed door from the floor and put it back on its frame. Though he just put the collapsed door by leaning it on it frame. He turned his body back to the people in the hut. His eyes focused on Dudley who was standing in the center of the hut with a frightened look. The giant man frowned.

"Mind, I haven't seen yeh since yeh were

a baby, Harry, but yeh' re a bit more along than I woulda expected. Specially round the in middle." The giant man mistook Dudley for Harry while gesturing his hand on his stomach.

You snorted quietly at what the giant man said. Harry glared at you though he too found it rather amusing that the giant man really called Dudley fat.

"Where's yer sister Y/n? didn't yeh two always attached at the hip? Where is she?" he added, eyes looking around for a glimpse of you.

Dudley looked terrified. "I- I'm not Harry" he stuttered.

Harry decided to come out of his hiding place, dragging you behind him. His protective brother instinct is kicking.

"I am" Harry entered the conversation. He was slightly terrified at the giant man.

You looked up at the giant man's face curiously. He seems friendly and kind even though his physical looks intimidating but his eyes hold kindness and friendliness. The man turned to face Harry who finally came out from hiding.

"Well now, of course you are." The man said in his rough and heavy accent. He then noticed you behind Harry. "well, there yer are, Y/n. Always attached to the hip, like I said before!" he beamed.

You nodded shyly. You don't know this man but he knows yours and Harry's name. Like he knows you two for a long time.

Uncle Vernon then pointed his rifle at the giant man. "I demand that you leave at once, sir! You are breaking and entering! " he yelled at the man.

The man turned his gaze from you two to Uncle Vernon. He approached Uncle Vernon. Aunt Petunia held her husband's shoulder in fear and hid herself behind her husband.

The man then took the end of the rifle in his massive hand as he glared at Uncle Vernon. "Ah, dry up, Dursley, yeh great prune." the man then bend the end of the rifle upwards and Uncle Vernon in fear pressed the trigger of the rifle which created the sudden shot to the ceiling of the hut.

Both Uncle and Aunt jerked in shock and fear. They both shivered in the presence of the giant man in front of them.

You looked at the man impressed. "wow.. He's strong"

Harry nodded in silence. The man then turned his gaze on you both. His furious face turned friendly when his eyes focused on you two.

"Anyway, Harry, Y/n. Got summat fer yeh two. 'Fraid I mighta sat on it at some points, but 'magine it'll taste all right jus' the same... Let's see now... Got it here somewhere" The man rummaging his coat, looking for something in his big coat pocket then he took out a medium-sized box from inside his coat and gave it to Harry who took it.

You looked over Harry's shoulder. Curiosity in your eyes as Harry opened the box. There is a freshly baked cake with your and Harry's name written on it. 'Happee Birthdae, Harry and Y/n' scrawled in green icing. You widened your eyes. Never had ever someone give you two gifts or cake on your birthday. The Dursleys always give you both coins or broken pens as 'birthday gifts' but this. This makes your heart touch with this giant man.

"Baked it myself, words an' all." The man said delightfully.

"Thank you" Harry and you said at the same time.

"Well,· it's not ev'ry day yer young man

and young woman turns 'leven, now is it, eh" The man replied with a genuine smile.

Hagrid turns to the fireplace, gives the embers a poke with the pink umbrella. As they ROAR to life, the man sat on the moth eaten sofa. The sofa slightly bends over the man's weight. You both widened your eyes after witnessing such impossible things.

'how come that umbrella..' you thought as you approached the giant man.

"eh.. Excuse me, sir... Who are you?" you asked the man confused.

The man was silent for a moment when someone addressed him formally but he then smiled at you.

"Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts." He introduced himself to you. "Of course, yer know all about Hogwarts"

You shook your head at him. "Sorry, we've never heard of Hogwarts"

Harry nodded in agreement. Hagrid looked at you with uncertainty.

"No? Blimey, Harry, Y/n, did yeh never wonder

where did yer mum and dad learned it all?" Hagrid questioned.

"learned what?" Harry is now by your side.

"Yer a wizard, Harry and Y/n a witch" Hagrid said.

You narrowed your eyes at him. Harry widened his eyes.

"A witch? What kind of flavor or type of Witch?" you asked him with curiosity.

"And a thumpin' good 'un, I'd wager, once yeh've been trained up a bit." Hagrid replied.

You let out a short laugh. "Well, we can't be wizard and witch."

Harry agreed with what you said. "surely you made a mistake, we can't be a wizard and a witch.. I mean.. We're just.. Just Harry and Y/n. We don't have magic"

"Well just Harry and Y/n, did yeh ever make anything 'appen? Anythin' yeh couldn't explain, when yeh were angry or scared?" Hagrid questioned.

You both fell silent. A sign of recognition on both of your faces when you remember some impossible events that happened before to both of you resulting in both of you being locked in a cupboard for a few weeks. Well, not much. So far, things floating in the air or frogs suddenly appear and jump on Aunt Petunia's face. That's it.. You and Harry looked at each other.

Hagrid smiled at you two. Which means what he said is true. He then got up from the broken sofa and slipped his hand into his big coat before taking out two envelopes and giving them to the two of you. You both took the envelope curiously. The same letters that Uncle Vernon did not give up on destroying. Now it is in both of your hands.

Harry opened his envelope. He read the contents of the letter out loud. "Dear Mr. Potter, We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.. "

You raised your eyebrows at that and stared at your own letter. You don't need to read it because you know the content in it as Harry has already read it out loud. Now this is quite interesting. A magic school. You never thought such a school existed in this world. But then again, there's a lot you don't know about this world.

"Magi-"

"absolutely not! They'll not be gone, I tell you! We swore when we took them in, we'd put a

stop to that rubbish!" Uncle Vernon disagreed, stomping his foot toward the the two of you.

You glared at him in realization and so was Harry. "You knew?! You knew and never told us that we are a Wizard and a Witch." You let out a disbelief laughed. "wow.. We didn't know that you two knew how to keep a secret for so long"

"You watch your mouth, girl!" Uncle Vernon yelled at you.

"maybe if you two tell us this thing maybe I can watch my mouth!" you argued "and you knew about that!"

Harry took your hand and squeezed your hand to calm you down. You scoffed at them.

Aunt Petunia looked at you two in distasteful. "Of course we knew! How could you not be, my dratted sister being what she was. Oh, mother and father were so proud when the letter came. 'A witch in the family isn't it wonderful?' I was the only one who saw her for what she was...a freak!" she spat with hatred. "Then she met that Potter and had you both. I knew you'd be the same. Just as strange, just as abnormal. And then, if you please, she went and got herself blown up and we got landed with you"

"Oh god, i can smell jealousy" you rolled your eyes.

Aunt Petunia glared at you in hatred.

"Blown up? You told us, our parents died in a car crash." Harry said with bewilderment.

"CAR CRASH! A car crash kills Lily and James Potter? It's an outrage! A scandal!" Hagrid yelled in disbelief.

"You lied to us" You hissed at them.

"THEY'LL NOT BE GOING! I TELL YOU!" Uncle Vernon yelled, aiming his bent rifles at Hagrid like a fool.

"An' I s'ppose a great Muggle like yerself is goin' ter stop them" Hagrid challenged him.

You and Harry looked at him in confusion. "muggles?" said in unison.

"Non-magic folk." Hagrid replied to you both with a friendly tone in his voice before he turned furiously towards Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia. "This children's name's been down ever since they were born. They're off to the finest school of witchcraft and wizardry in the world and they'll be under the greatest headmaster Hogwart's has ever known, Albus Dumbledore-"

"I will not pay for some old crackpot fool to teach them magic tricks!" Uncle Vernon cut him off.

Hagrid glared at him furiously. He aimed his tip of umbrella at Uncle Vernon's face who took a step back. "NEVER... INSULT... ALBUS DUMBLEDORE IN FRONT OF ME!"

You grinned when you saw Uncle Vernon's scared face. This is what you want to see. Him, put in his place. It's not like you're so cruel to see him scared, he just deserves that.

Hagrid then turned his gaze from uncle Vernon to Dudley who was eating birthday cake at the end of the hut. He then aimed his umbrella at Dudley and a spark of light came out of the tip of the umbrella. Suddenly a pig tails appeared in Dudley's butt making him scream in terror as he ran around the hut while his parents screamed in fear.

Uncle Vernon roared as the family hurries out of the hut's living room. You and Harry laughed out loud at the poor family. This is the best thing you have ever witnessed. They deserve it.

"Tha's curious. Meant ter turn 'im into a complete pig, whole hog an' all. Suppose he was so much like a pig already, there wasn't much left do." Hagrid looked at his umbrella strangely.

"I'm sure you've done your best to turn him into a complete pig. He just.. well he's indeed a pig even if you didn't change him. He just doesn't have a tail which thankfully you added" you beamed at him him as you patted his massive arm. You looked so small beside him. Once he bumped into you, you might have been thrown across the universe.

Hagrid smiled at you gratefully and patted your head gently. Harry who was speechless to say that was staring in awe at Hagrid's umbrella.

"Er, be grateful. if yeh didn't mention that to anyone at Hogwarts. Strictly speakin', I'm not allowed to do magic." Hagrid said to you both which you both nodded in understanding before he took out his pocket watch. "Bit behind schedule, aren't we? Best be off."

Hagrid exited the hut, leaving you two to consider this matter.  Harry looked lost while you fought the urge to follow Hagrid or not. You have trust issues when you live with the Dursleys. Hagrid poked his head in to look at the two of you.

" 'Less, o' course, yeh'd rather stay.' Hagrid said.

"nope! we're going then. Come on Harry, We're going on an adventure!" You pulled Harry's hand and dragged him out of the hut. Following Hagrid to a magical place.

Hagrid laughed at your enthusiasm self.

[dazed--xx]

Let Me In

Member: Kim Taehyung x afab reader

Word count: 1.5k

T/W: Horror, obsession, haunting?, mentions of death, gore, cliffhanger, dead corpse x living reader, NONCON kiss, bodily harm, stalking, madness, lack of control over one's own body, begging, threats, the haunting hour, harassment, etc

A/N: this was supposed to be Day one of Spooktober...Im was so like excited for this and I hope you guys enjoy it I figured since I won't be writing anything new I wanted to post something already done before I got into my slump hope this made some of yalls day seeing an update sorry it's not SKZ OR SVT but I was gonna do all 3 groups for spooktober and Tae just so happened to be the first name on the wheel of names

*Ping*

Y/n jumped out of her skin at the sound. Her hand trembling as she reached for her phone that sat on the ground next to her. Her breathing is heavy as she flips the device over. The name she had been dreading sits there smiling menacingly back at her. Ignoring his text she quickly swipes the notification away without reading it. Her head falls forward as her hands cup over her ears. No...It's not possible...she told herself.

*Ping*

*Ping*

*Ping*

Her phone continued to come alive with his texts. Her legs lift so her knees sit against her chest, pressing her back into the corner of the room. Her studio apartment was sunken in utter darkness as the air grew heavier and heavier. More notifications continue to somehow ping on her muted phone. "S-Stop..." She pleaded as she squeezed her eyes shut tight.

How could this be happening? Her body began to rock as she felt tears stream down her cheeks. The flurry of text messages continues their assault on her phone. Every ping caused another crack in her sanity. "He's dead...." she begins to repeat to herself as she continues to hold onto her ears to avoid every impossible text coming through her phone. "Kim Taehyung is dead...."

*Ping*

"Leave me alone!" She wails as she picks up the device and sends it careening across her dainty studio apartment. The phone slams harshly against the adjacent wall before tumbling to the ground onto its screen. She sat in silence for what felt like hours, her shaky breath the only thing she could hear as she leaned back against the wall. Her head fell back as she felt a chuckle form in the back of her throat it grew to a full laugh. This isn't possible...Kim Taehyung died last year, and the police told her this fact themselves. It had to be her lack of sleep ruining all logic in her brain. It had been a month since she had last slept properly.....she couldn't tell what was real anymore.

The sound of an unfamiliar ringtone pulls her out of her thoughts, and her eyes widen as her head snaps up. Her eyes were wide as she felt her body growing lighter and lighter. Her heart sank as she felt herself get onto all fours and slowly crawl toward the device. Her body almost felt as if it wasn't her own as she found the device now in her hand. Her body trembled as she felt her tears cascading down her cheeks. Her screen stared back at her with a spiderweb crack along the top left corner of her phone extending down toward the center of her phone. It was utterly destroyed yet, that name continued to call. The screen looked perfectly fine....

The green answer button called out to her, as her curiosity was peaked. She felt herself grow more and more drawn toward the answer button, in a trance she answered the call. As she went to speak, she found nothing coming out of her mouth. Her body sat frozen her mouth hung open in fear. A deep menacing chuckle responds on the other end of the line. "I missed you, Y/N..." A voice that sounded like Taehyung teased on the other end of the call, but there was something...off about his voice, it was as if he was gurgling.

Y/N's blood ran cold as she urged her body to hang up the call but her hands wouldn't budge. No...Please...stop...She pleaded as she stared across the room at the digital clock, 3:18 am. Taehyung's voice began to laugh mischievously. "You've never begged me before...." He teases. "I want to know what it's like to hear you scream....you'll do that for me right, Y/N?"

Go away....She urged as she fought against herself. Go away... it's not real, wake up! Wake Up! Her heart raced as she struggled to continue to hold herself up. "Shhh, get out of your head....I'll be there soon, you'll feel better, I promise" He soothed. Y/N felt her breath get trapped in her throat as she felt a wave of nausea takes over. The smell of decaying meat begins to waft through the air. Closing her eyes Y/N begins to recite the lord's prayer to herself. Our Father, Hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come "Ha Ha Ha, That won't work..." Taehyung antagonizes, and Y/N feels her mouth salivating as the stench grows stronger and stronger. A loud bang on her window, makes her body jump.

Slowly turning her head to face the window on her right. A decaying hand sits on her window, and she feels the contents of her stomach rise to her mouth. As the body of the hand begins to come into view, she vomits violently. "No..." she whimpers, as she's met with something, that looks like Kim Taehyung. His eye holes were sunken in, almost like two darkened abysses and his skin looked paler than he normally did. Across his throat sat a large gash, that went through the center of his neck. Her blood ran cold as he smiled at her menacingly. This isn't real....She thinks to herself.

"Let me in....." He calls in that gurgled menacing voice.

Y/N stood frozen as she stared at him in horror, This can't be real... she shakes her head and the smile on his lips falls. "Open up...." He states in a threatening tone. As he leaned into the window with that sinister smile on his lips, his tongue drags across his bottom lip and his face seemed to gain more and more vitality. She struggled against herself as she felt the need to open the window growing stronger and stronger. "No..G-Go away..." Y/N stammers fearfully. Taehyung's smile falls and the decayed face returns as he pulls his head back slightly, placing both hands on the window before slamming his head into the window harshly. Only then did Y/N realize how large the gash in his throat truly was as muscle and bone became exposed the second time he pulled his head back.

Her head grows heavier and heavier as he continues to slam his head into the window. A chill settles in the room as she feels herself growing dizzy. Her legs struggle as she tries to make her way toward the door as she hears the sound of cracking glass. The smell of rotting meat filled her nostrils as if she were in a butcher's discard pile. She felt her legs give out beneath her as her vision grew blurry. No.. she willed as she tried to crawl toward the door. You have to get out of here...

The sound of breaking glass makes her stomach drop as she sees the door growing closer and closer, reaching for her handle she feels a rough yet squishy hand encase her ankle dragging her back. A screech is released from her throat as she hears a deep chuckle erupt from the pit of his stomach. Taehyung flips her over onto her back as he leans over her, the gash in his throat dripping a brown congealed clot onto her cheek. The rotten meat smell now penetrates her pores, and almost tasting the stench she holds her breath. Taehyung frowns at her actions as he straddles her waist, his decayed hand grips her chin as he leans into her face. His face changed once again and she was greeted by a more lively visage of him. "L-Let me go....p-please" She pleads weakly.

"You know I can't do that.....It's been so long," He states with that gurgled voice. "I finally have you...why would I give you back?" He chuckles as he lifts his hand and a drawer opens from her kitchen, a butcher's knife flies from the drawer and into his hand. Her eyes widen as tears stream down her cheeks. "N-No please, T-Taehyung please...." She pleads to deaf ears and Taehyung lifts the knife to her cheek running the blade along her face sensually "I missed you, Y/N. I won't let you go again...Did you miss me too? You did right?" He questions in a trance, his eyes are crazed as he stares down at her. "You probably felt lonely without me...were you mad I didn't know how to find you? I'm sorry my love...I left you alone because I couldn't find you...I know you wanted me to find you, to prove my love by finding you if you hid well enough..." He states madly as he brings the knife to her throat, Y/N struggles to catch her breath as she tries to shove him off of her. "Don't worry, it won't hurt too badly if I do it this way.." He places the tip of the knife to her throat. He leans in pressing his lips to hers, she feels bile rise into her mouth as a sour putrid taste fills her mouth. She coughs as he pulls away with a smirk.

"I won't let you be alone again. You'll like it where we're going"

[sehtoast]

Kindred (ftm!Homelander x ftm!OC Smut)

18+

1.6k

AU Where Ben and Homelander are not intimate until later in season 3. Just some indulgent couch-breakdown Homelander t4t smut.

OC: Benjamin Colyer (The Boys-verse Spider-Man)

Warnings: Oral sex, Homelander's bottom dysphoria manifesting in calling himself inadequate.

The fates always had a wicked way with him, did they not? Kicking him when he was down, throwing curve balls left and right for him to adjust to. 

We have a situation– Yeah. Yeah, now, please.

It was the shaking of her voice that bothered him the most. 

Like he'd done something wrong. 

As though she wasn't the one who barged in unannounced. 

He rolls his already teary eyes. 

On my way, he heard faintly, the voice on the other end of the phone all too familiar to his already aching heart. 

But he couldn't move a muscle. All he could do was sit there with the remote, rewinding and resetting the video of his speech. 

"I'm stronger! I'm better!" 

Waiting for that familiar voice to barge in as well.

He'd broken decorum. He lashed out– let the mask slip. What would become of him in the court of public opinion? 

He hears her tell the new arrival that he needs to deliver the news. He can hear the unsettled shudder in her tone as she dances around the truth of what has her so frazzled. 

Just get in there, Ashley tells him. 

He tries to brace himself– to rise from the couch and throw, at the very least, his underwear on before his next visitor can come in and find shock in his difference.

His body doesn't move. 

Only his thumb, to press rewind again. 

"I am done being persecuted for my strength!" 

He hears a knock, not too harsh, before that voice calls out to him. 

"Hey, John?" The spider calls out to him. "Mind if I come in?" 

He's given the courtesy of a warning, this time. The bug always did give him more than others. His penthouse had no front door, and the vast majority of his visitors tended to just waltz in as though they owned the place. 

Not Benjamin. 

He doesn't reply– just pauses the video as though the silence could speak for him. 

He hears the padding of footsteps approaching him slowly. John's gut dropped in anticipation of another unpleasant reaction. 

"Oh," he hears. He doesn't look up. Doesn't want to. 

He doesn't want to see his best and only friend react to what he lacked. The dismay he felt from the last twenty-four hours stopped him from realizing Ben's voice carried no shock, no discomfort, no awe at his difference. 

"So, Ashley wanted me to come up and tell you about your numbers, but…" Ben trails off, walking over to the other side of the couch, his eyes never falling down to observe his lack save for the initial once over.  "Did- Did she actually give me a passcode locked tablet and expect..?" 

Ben scoffs a laugh and tosses it onto the couch nonchalantly. 

"Did you really expect her to use her brain?" He asks, a jest present but delivered without the proper inflection. 

"Do we ever?" 

It's the first a smile has cracked at his lips in nearly a day. 

The remote is coaxed from his hand, and the TV is shut off. 

"You shouldn't do that to yourself," the bug tells him. "Are you cold?" 

Was he cold? Was he, the fucking Homelander, cold? 

"Why? D'you want me to cover up?"

There's a question underneath his question. 

Do you need the anomaly put away?

The only thing, to this day, that ever stopped Homelander from jumping Benjamin's bones was the idea that his lack of… anatomy would dash any hopes of a positive response. 

It wouldn't be the first time someone had rejected his body– but it would certainly be the only time he couldn't pretend that he was unbothered.

The only time he found true value in another's opinion of himself. 

"No, I–" Ben breathed gently. "I want you to be comfortable." 

What part of my life has ever been comfortable, Homelander calls out from inside his mind. 

"Does my body make you uncomfortable?" He asks, a bitter inquisitiveness on his tongue.

The way Benjamin's brow flicks upward before he shakes his head no makes a smirk tug at John's lips. 

The hand that held the remote sought Ben's, his fingers lacing through the spider's gloved ones in a display of affection he was near petrified to show. 

He watches Benjamin bring his free hand to his mouth, biting the fingertips of his glove to remove it before bringing his bare hand down to rest against his. 

John begins to feel a hunger, the comfort of flesh calling to him loudly.

Sure, with his superpowered senses, he could smell the drips of his own arousal beginning to gather from the moment Benjamin arrived. But, at some point, he knew Benny could smell him too– so naked and exposed. 

The flare of the web-head's nostrils on a not-so-subtly deep breath gave it away. 

It makes him clench– makes his clit twitch in anticipation. 

"You'd be surprised…" Ben exhales, "at what you don't know about me." 

Oh, but he knew. He knew they were the same.

But, it was different when it was him compared to when it was Ben.  When it was Benjamin, it was a character trait.

When it was him, it was a shortcoming.

Just another inadequacy.

There had always been such carnal tension between them– unspoken and left to fester.  Every day it seemed to grow and grow, but every day John feared the web-head would find him lacking.

“What do you need from me, John?”  Ben murmured, his thumb stroking over John’s hand.

Entranced was certainly one word for how he felt as his free hand began to run the length of Benjamin’s arm, all the way to where the neckline of his suit met his throat.  He ran a finger along the seam, hooking the tip underneath to lightly pull…

“I…” he began, the words catching on a tight breath.  “N-Need you…”

Ben’s eyes floated down to his lips, lingering on them.

“Show me where,” the web-head whispered, offering his bare hand as though it were a tool to be used to John’s every whim.

Homelander pulled him forward by the collar, brushing their lips together– featherlight at first– finally, oh, god, finally sealing that long awaited contact.  As they kissed, John pressed Ben’s hand to his chest, shuddering at the way his little spider’s nails dragged softly through the smatterings of hair as he guided him lower, lower, and lower.

The first touch to his wetness had John keening into the kiss, a moan rumbling deep in his chest as Ben dragged his slick on two fingers to his clit, rubbing him with a pressure so perfect that it tingled down to his legs.

His hand overtop of Ben’s went to his wrist, gripping as he panted into the web-head’s mouth, a string of saliva connecting them when they separated.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous…” Ben breathed against him, finally sinking two fingers deep into John’s cunt, groaning at the way his walls clenched around him immediately.  “Thaaat’s it…”

Ben shifted, his fingers never leaving Homelander’s heat as he maneuvered to kneel before him.  

John choked on a breath when Benjamins’ tongue swiped his engorged clit before sucking it into his mouth, laving flat figures over the head as his fingers squelched on each thrust.

“B-Ben…” he whimpered, reaching down to tangle his fingers in the curtains of the web-head’s hair.

A moan rumbled against him, stimulating him further.

“You taste so good,” Ben murmured as he withdrew his fingers, licking them clean.  He looked to Homelander for a moment, pressing a kiss to the curve of his mound.  “Lay back and let me take care of you…”

It took a hand pressing him flat, but John complied.  He gasped at the way Ben gripped his hips and pulled him closer to the edge of the couch, leaving his pussy and rim on display– his legs resting overtop of Benny’s shoulders.

The web-head tensed his lips and dropped a glob of spit directly onto his clit, bringing a thumb up to rub his bud tantalizingly slow, leaning down to run his tongue between John’s folds, lapping up every drop of him.

Homelander had no idea when he started cresting to his peak– perhaps when Ben ran his tongue from his rim to his clit and sank his fingers in deep– but, fuck, he was close.

His body began to twitch with every crook of Benjamin’s digits against a spot that had his head thrown back in a whine, and he bucked against his spider’s mouth for any added friction he could find.

Suddenly, Benjamin was stood, leaning halfway over him to press a wet kiss to his lips, dragging Homelander’s own taste through his mouth with every swipe of his tongue.

“You’re doing so well,” Ben praised, a soaked thumb dragging along his cheekbone as his other hand’s digits kept their pace inside of him.  “I can feel every time you clench, y’know…” Ben slipped a third finger into him.  “Perfect…  So, so perfect…”

At the all consuming warmth of Ben taking his clit again, John threw his head back in bliss, his cunt throbbing and gushing against the web-head’s fingers as he thrust them in deep.  He called out his little spider’s name, howling it through tears that sizzled away from the heat in his eyes.

“Oh– oh fuck!”  He whimpered as Ben withdrew, his tongue taking the place of his fingers to lave him clean, his slurps ringing obscenely into the room.  Homelander pressed his fist to his mouth to keep from singing out further, to muffle the moans that spilled free from him.  “B-Benny!”

He panted heavily, eyelids leaden as Ben kissed a path from his clit to his neck, breaking away only to meet his lips.  His fingers fumbled around Benjamin’s super suit to seek entry.

As he and Benny lost themselves in each other, Homelander found himself almost a little grateful that Ashley was dumb enough to barge in unannounced.  If nothing else, that stupid open door policy brought him his little spider…

[prettysweetprettysweet]

was anybody else a teenager when Brokeback Mountain came out? god that movie's journey was an exhilarating and terrifying experience for me as a gay kid. i was 14 when it was released. it might as well have been the First Gay Movie Ever. i was obsessed with tracking its progress, from Focus Features optioning the script to Heath and Jake being cast, all the way through to the Oscars. i taped and rewatched the Logo promo special on it dozens of times as well as the Oprah special, and hid the tapes under my bed. i watched every single major awards show. i read commentators opining in award show editorials that the movie wasn't good and the only reason it was getting attention was because it was about gay cowboys. i swelled with pride and a bone-deep gratitude listening to Heath talk about the film and his character. that recent quote that goes around now from Jake reflecting that Heath wouldn't allow people to make fun of it or demean it in any way - I love to see it because he really was so bold and clear about it that I realized it even at 14 years old. he felt like a protector to me.

i realize now i was using it as a barometer to gauge the homophobia around me. i listened in like a fly on the wall whenever people around me talked about it. it was always jokingly and sometimes cruelly. there was a period of time at my school where boys were printing out the promo poster, cutting out photos of other classmates and pasting them onto Heath and Jake's face and then sticking them to lockers. the first time i saw one i was walking down the stairs and glanced up and saw it posted on a bulletin board. it felt like a slap to the face, completely out of nowhere. without even thinking i went from seeing it one fraction of a second to ripping it off the wall the next, and i balled it up and threw it in the trash. i did that with every one I saw (covertly, making a mental note of them during the day and using bathroom trips during classes to take them down).

when i went to see it in theaters (after school i bought a ticket for another movie bc i was underage and then slipped into the theater quietly) i was one of five people in the audience. two of them (a couple) ended up walking out after the sex scene. for the entire duration of the screening this teenage boy showed up every twenty-or-so minutes to pull the heavy entrance door open and then shove it shut, creating a huge cacophonous bang that scared me senseless the first time it happened. i was absolutely bowled over by the sex scene. i was bowled over by the intimacy of every scene between them. i didn't contextualize it at the time but it was because i had never, ever seen a piece of media that imbued a portrayal of affection, love, and desire between men with such sincerity and humanity. i swear it rewired my brain. i later bought the dvd from a knock-off dvd seller on the street in Manhattan for four dollars and hid that as well.

when Heath Ledger died i cried for two days straight, which I tried to hide unsuccessfully. for some reason the fact that I was crying over him made my step dad very angry and he harassed me about it and complained to my mom all day. i didn't pay any attention to him and continued to grieve the loss of someone that, as a kid, i felt had directly acknowledged my struggle with the shame and fear caused by my homosexuality, and facilitated bringing my identity into focus in a caring and deeply thoughtful way. brokeback mountain was an extraordinary experience for me because on one hand, it pulled out the ugliness and hate that existed in my environment, but on the other, it gifted me my first real feeling of being seen and understood. the memory of that experience is so strong and visceral to me still that I'm not able to watch the movie anymore without triggering waves of intense emotions, and because that overwhelms me, I don't watch the movie anymore. but i have so much affection for it. i am filled with affection for it.

[starter-library]

GOOD MORNING BEDLAM'S LULU LYRIC STARTERS

EDIT AS YOU SEE FIT

I Am Sad

“Dance it off and let them see only ever part of me”

“You're far too quick to let me in”

“I feel your fear it hurts my chest”

“I too am fighting loneliness”

“I'm sad to say that I am sad”

“I'm sad to say it, but I've done the best that I can. Just had to say,My best is sad”

“I've done it in forty four states”

“Steal your words and bite my tongue cus every story's now been sung”

Blue House

“When I woke the sun was new”

“Even ink that marked our height will be repainted out of sight”

“It all must go under the knife every dent from making life”

“The fall of Rome was bound to be. Not to endure eternally”

“Now it's time to leave what we know, chase the new and let love grow”

“It's more than bricks that make a home”

“She'll learn to love and all it's ache and how to mend after it breaks”

Hold Me

“Well I've been sitting around since a quarter to three”

“Ain't found a god for whom I'd fall to my knees, But I haven't had a half bad time”

“I won't win an award for what's inside of my brain, Just found out New Jersey was a U.S. state”

“I've got you on my arm as we walk in the rain, So I guess you'd say I'm in my prime”

“Baby tell me once more that you're mine”

“May be losing all my sanity to the hunger of humanity if you're losing it right next to me I swear I'll be just fine”

“My mouth will run itself right into first place so I guess that I'm doing ok”

“You love me still can't seem to change that a bit, wouldn't have it any other way”

“Once broke my nose just from falling down”

“My talking voice is as loud as my shout”

“I'm trying to keep it together as I'm falling apart”

“I find you to be a work of art, Need no one else to share my days”

“I am standing here just watching all the people going round. Seems no one else is doing better at figuring this out”

“We're all stumbling around and picking ourselves up but I went tripping into madness and falling into love”

Haint Blue

“I sing your praises to the waning moon”

“I'm haunted and so are you although we smothered all our ceilings in that bright haint blue”

“It's only in my dreams where he lets be, you see I'm waking up to find that the ghost is me”

“Time won't let us be”

“We're on borrowed time since you set me free”

“I'm haunted and so are you”

I’m haunted, can’t you see him too?”

The Haunting

“We keep repeating the same words in heightened speech, with cutting verbs”

“If i don’t hear, your words won’t hurt”

“Never put up any fight except when it’s in my own mind”

“Like a smothered storm my thoughts they go unknown: Patch the boat, mind the water, make it home”

“I’m so scared i’m the one that is to blame”

“But lies will rot the heart and thoughts and never shield me like I think”

“Someday we’ll learn to shut our mouths”

“Over and over and over it goes with the wine playing tricks and the room spinning slow”

“And I’m trying to focus and show you I notice your eyes perfectly match the dress that you’ve chosen”

“And if you’re saying that you love me--say it slow. And I’ll need you to show me”

Enough

“And I hear it And I see it And I breathe it. It echos, echos, Round it resounds without end”

“Sometimes I don't know if I am loved”

“Sometimes I don't know if I'm enough”

“Not even God could love someone like you”

“I've been trying to retrace my tracks, Hoping to find my way back; When the only running was tag, when you know being it won't last”

Blessed Boy

“I have no one to care for, no one to need and only when running am I ever free”

“I'll fly to the moon and I'll never return, There I can rest as I watch the world turn”

“Blessed boy I've heard your voice and I know they've done you wrong”

“In between your fitful dreams will you learn you do belong”

“It takes more than moonlight to cause you to bloom, come to the garden there's plenty of room”

You are Gonna Miss Me

“Always had this feeling that your hearts not really mine and that some perfect lover was always on your mind”

“You are gonna miss me you will miss my face someday”

“Oh my darling boy i was looking up to you- Well not physically except when you put lifts inside your shoes”

“Boy you did me wrong how could you let me fall- couldn't catch me with hands that were that small”

“You want to make all my decisions but i don't want the same”

“Honey this is my show here i always drink for free”

Salt

“But tide will rise and reclaim her command”

“Mother I'm scared your waters are much too high for me”

“Your changeable ways throw me for days as if lost on the sea”

“The water's calm but still I cannot rest while storms are ever raging in my chest”

“From her I was made with love and care but by her hand I'm scattered everywhere”

“Leaning back the water holds my weight now it will be my turn to create”

Lulu

“I see no way will I hold her like the cinema told me to try”

“When I look at you I see no chance of pushing through and I must be the one to say goodnight”

“Some wishes made are wises left behind”

“She kissed me so sweetly and she promised me nothing but sweetness to last”

[soggymentos65]

GOD banhammer is so fucking perfect, i've been staring at a picture of him in some way shape or form for probably like fifteen hours out of the last three days. he is just so very mwah i wanna bite his armor it looks so fucking cool bro. and his teeth, good LIRD his fucking teeth those chompers are driving me insane. i wanna put my hand in his mouth and i don't think i'd even be upset if he bit me for that, hell i want him to bite me. he could step on me too and pick me up and throw me down the stairs and i wouldn't even be mad. did i mention how fucking tall he is? mans is like 6 foot 11 inches, thats bonkers, he could punt me into the sun and i'd let him. his hands are probably huge as fuck too. i want him to hold me but i'd settle for being manhandled into a jail cell. he probably patrols the cells on occasion since he's just built different and i'd stand in my 'pathetic homosexual loser' cage and give him a gay little wave as he walks past. blow him a kiss and all that. he might not even notice because he's blindfolded which would be saddening but hey maybe i'll get to feel his touch when he drags me off to be executed or whatever. does he even execute his prisoners at all? if he doesn't i guess i will just rot in that cell until he sees fit to release me. bummer. or perhaps i could seduce him into letting me work as an assistant/maid/etc for him instead. he seems like he'd get off on having someone to order around directly, and i wouldn't mind obeying his every command. anyways as much as i'd enjoy letting him order me around it would probably get boring eventually. he'd probably melt immediately if i gave off even a whiff of dominance. mans still listens to his mom for fucks sake, he'll fold like a wet napkin if i yank him down to his knees and grab his chin. that might be tough with the size difference though. i could back him into a corner and grab his horns and pull his face down to mine and then kiss him or whisper to him or whatever. fuck yeah. not to mention he's blindfolded too, so i could mess around with that. he'd probably be kinda mouthy about it, especially if we have a significant strength difference, but he'd like it. putting a hand in his mouth would probably shut him up. god the thought of running my hand along his teeth is just so fucking enthralling. they look kinda similar to shark teeth. built to maul people and yet here i am touching them like the most foolish creature upon god's green earth. cough this is getting a little too immersive whoops fuck uhhh right! his armor. the gems everywhere is attractive. shiny objects are so cool and banhammer has a gem on like every section of his armor. they probably make cuddling a tiny bit uncomfortable but that's par for the course with armor. i'd put up with it. his weapon looks sick as hell too but i am not a weapons connoisseur, i am a men connoisseur. and this one is delicious cough right his armor. his boots look pretty tough. they probably have treads that'd leave a good mark if he stepped on my back. that'd be cool. i'd let him dig his heel into me with great force. god at this point i dont even wanna fuck him i just want to either destroy or be destroyed by this man. good fucking god why did i write so much. checks wiki right he has four eyes. assuming they look like his mom's do it'd probably be pretty cute. two little extra ones beside his normal eyes. he probably winks by closing half his eyes. and now i'm thinking of various seductive faces he could make. i am down so bad i can't even. i wanna kiss him choke him slam him into a wall. or have him do that to me. i'm not picky. one of us is gonna be pathetic, obedient, and submissive and i frankly do not give a fuck which one it ends up being. i'd let him put a collar on me. the thought of banhammer wearing a collar is making my brain do terrible horrible things so i will leave it at that. i do draw the line at like 'daddy' shit tho that's not for me at all & he probably has daddy issues anyway

[yourlocalmultifandom]

Part 1

VILLES POV

"Yeah" I nod into the phone, looking out of the window of the tour bus. I'd been all over America, but there was just one place I wanted to be, and in less than a whole day, I'd be there again. "I'll be there in the morning"

"Cool, I'll have everything ready when you get here" Bam agrees.

"Great, great. Okay, I'll talk to you then"

"Later" he says before the phone clicks.

I look up, watching Mige sit on the opposite side of the table and smile at me. The cheesy grin was enough, but when he happily intertwined his fingers on the tabletop, I narrow my eyes, knowing he's definitely up to something.

"What?" I stare.

"I'm going to hate not being able to speak to you the entire time we're there" he dramatically sighs.

"Why can't you?"

"Because you'll be a drooling puppy dog all over again, don't act like I can't see the way you cream your pants every time she's around"

"Surely you're not talking about me"

"I am. You and little miss Margera"

"Aprils a lovely woman, but she's married"

"Don't play dumb, Ville. You know I'm talking about Danni"

The very name struck a special string in my heart. I look at my hand, trying my best to hide any emotion that hits me. Bams twin sister, the vixen that ran away with my heart.

"She's off at college" I nearly whisper.

"No she isn't. Bam said she dropped out to do that CKY thing" a coy smirk dancing on his face.

"No she didn't" I stare, my heart skipping a beat.

"Oh yeah she did. Bam picked her up like three days ago, so she'll be all nice and ready to rock when you arrive"

"She's a friend"

"That you lose all dignity over" he smirks.

He's not wrong, I started thinking about her long dark hair, pale skin, those icy blue eyes...that damn smile. I find myself writing about her a lot, and I'll be the first to admit that Danni is a very beautiful girl, but I highly doubt I'd ever be her type. Even if I did have a chance, she's got this on and off thing with one of the guys from CKY, the band her brother, Jess, is in. Her little fling still doesn't stop me from devoting everything I have to her every chance I get, though. I was really hoping she wouldn't be there this time, I'm worried Bam will notice my admiration for her someday. He's bound to find out if I'm around her long. Those two are thick as thieves, being twins wasn't just in their looks either, I swear they could finish each other's very thoughts. I'd never have guessed anyone could match his energy the way she does.. The very first time I ever met her, Bam had brought her along to one of my shows, and I was instantly mesmerized. She was the first person to ever convince me to get on a skateboard, and the only girl I know that can drink as much as me. My mind starts trailing off, thinking about all of the time we've spent together during our friendship.

"Hello? Ville" Mige says, ripping me from my thoughts.

"Huh?" I stare.

"Exactly what I thought" he smiles. "Get some rest, you'll be struggling to breathe normal in a few hours"

"Right" I nod, realizing there was only about four hours before I see her.

I stand up, making my way to my bed and trying to mentally prepare myself for dealing with that beloved family of lunatics, I laugh at how I used to think Bam was crazy...then I met his sister. I lay in bed and think about all the memories I had with my favorite twins, remembering all the crazy shit they do on a regular basis. I sigh, trying to shut my brain off and get some rest, unfortunately, my brain is now infiltrated by one Danni Margera. I sigh, tossing and turning, haunted by her smile, her laugh, her touch. The three years I've spent being her friend has driven me insane, and now I'll be faced with her again, just praying that I don't accidentally let my love for her show. Maybe I'm recalling things through rose-tinted glasses, perhaps I'll get there and have entirely different emotions.

[readingtoinfinity]

Fandoms

I'm gonna complain for a hot second.

This morning I watched Daniel Greene's weekly Fantasy News (it's good, I enjoy them, see attached) and one of the things he brought up was this article (attached for your reading leisure) about toxic fandoms. It's about the vitriol in fandom that's existed for years, always bubbling beneath the surface, and the unfortunate people who are the targets of their (often bigoted and hateful) wrath, always undeserved. It's an unwelcoming attitude towards people who are making more of the thing fandoms ostensibly love, and not against the actual people making the product bad, i.e. producers and executives.

I cannot for the life of me understand how people continue to shift this message towards "If they didn't make bad media, we wouldn't be so toxic". Like, Jesus Christ that's a fucking bad take. It's frankly the attitude an abuser has towards their spouse, though the two are of course different things. Of all the comments (both on this article and on Daniel Greene's original video) most are so brain-dead and unwilling to listen that I feel like I've watched a completely different video and read a completely different article.

There are, of course, a number of other arguments I've read on the subject. It's a mixed bag of good and bad arguments, ranging from strawmen to a belief "wokeness" is ruining media (which is untrue and frankly stupid) to some actual arguments that I would like to get into but are immaterial to the larger message. Not all of them are as outright toxic as the takeaway in the paragraph above but all of them feed into the larger idea, that members of fandom are largely blameless in the push-and-pull between the producers, the fans and the projects being made.

Do none of these people remember Jake Lloyd? Played a young Anakin Skywalker in The Phantom Menace? He's still nervous around cameras because his childhood was ruined by "fans" who hated what had happened to Star Wars. And it's a bad movie! I am not saying you shouldn't criticize it! I'm saying to shut the fuck up and stop talking to the actors, directors and writers about it. They don't care about you! You're not going to save the project by yelling over Twitter!

When I was a kid I played a goat on stage. I hated that role and I hated putting on that costume and I hated bleating three times before crawling off the stage on all fours. It was for a class and I only performed it once but I hope any recordings of it have been destroyed. I can't imagine what my life would be like if the recording got out, if every time I went to buy groceries or see a movie or hang out at a park someone came up to me and said "Hey you played that goat right?" It'd drive me nuts. The mirrored pit of razor wire and glass that is fame is a terrible (if beneficial) curse to bear.

A black Aragorn will not destroy Lord of the Rings. Luke Skywalker being gay will not ruin his triumph over the Emperor. A short Superman will still stand tall in his heroics. I hope these stories are made of sterner stuff than whatever reinterpretations (smart or stupid, well-done or botched) are to come, because there's a reason we all love them. Be critical, but be open. Your next favorite thing hasn't come out yet. It'd be a shame to miss it because you're focused on the superficial.