#so thank GOD he was there to just give me the answer

[themultifanshipper]

You decided, on a random Thursday in december, that you were going to give each of the 2025 rookies a visit, to congratulate them on getting into F1. 

Warnings: this is kinda wild but not very explicit, it's more about the dynamics than the actual smut, I'm trying to set stuff up for the 2025 season, biting kink, gym sex, kitchen sex, oral sex, anal sex, very bad flirting, half of this was written while blackout drunk

Part 10, and epilogue to One of the Boys

It was also to show them a little of what they would be fighting for next year, along with the trophies. 

You went to see Ollie first, him being the one you knew best. 

He'd done 3 races in 2024 and you'd gotten to know him a bit when you two would chat during weekends where he wasn't driving. 

You'd sent him a text, you were staying in Italy for a few days and you should hang out sometime. 

He readily agreed. 

You showed up at his house one sunny afternoon, and he answered the doorbell with his usual grin. 

He was also shirtless, wearing gray sweats, and his hair was dripping wet. 

“I just had a shower” he said apologetically. 

You raised an eyebrow at him. “I can see that”  

“Come on in!” he ushered you inside with enthusiasm “Don't mind the mess, it's laundry day” 

You giggled at his nervous disposition. He was fidgeting with his hands. 

“I don't care Ollie, I'm not here to comment on your tidiness” 

His nervous grin turned into a genuine smile and he visibly relaxed a bit. 

“Right, yeah of course. Uh do you want a drink?” 

It was your turn to grin at him. 

“Would love one! What have you got?” 

“I've got like… loads of fruit juice.”  

You frowned curiously. “What do you mean loads?” 

You ended up staring at all the bottles lined up in his fridge door. The tension was palpable, you hadn't said a word in a whole minute as you read all the different labels. 

“Like… seven or… eight… maybe nine different kinds?” 

“Is this weird? I feel like it's weird” he finally piped up sheepishly. 

You picked up the bottle of passion fruit juice and stared at it, before turning towards him with a barely concealed smirk. 

“I didn't know you were so… passionate about fruit juice” 

He looked at you in disbelief and you dissolved into a fit of giggles. 

“Simple orange will do me fine thank you, Ollie” you wiped your tears of laughter away while he rolled his eyes. 

“I can't believe I just bared my soul to you and you're making puns about it” he scoffed, but he was smiling as he took a couple of glasses out of the cupboard and filled them. 

“Well, you are the bare- man” 

“Oh my god” he groaned “I hate you” 

You laughed and the tension seeped out of the room as you bantered back and forth like you always did. 

“So-” he eventually asked, eyeing you suspiciously  “What actually brings you to Italy?” 

You were sat on top of the kitchen table, next to Ollie who was sat on a chair. 

“What? Can't I come and visit my friends?” 

“Friends…Plural?” he asked teasingly. 

“Yeah, you're actually the first on my little trip, I'm also going to see Kimi and Gabriel in the next couple of days…” 

He raised an eyebrow and hummed in surprise. 

“Are you, now?” the sarcasm was dripping from his tone and he held back a laugh as he took another sip from his juice. 

You frowned suspiciously at him. “What's that supposed to mean?” 

He put his glass down, considering his next words carefully. 

“You know… Franco has told me a few things…” his eyes bore into yours and you shivered under his intense gaze, gesturing for him to continue. 

 “…about the private party in Monaco” 

“Colapinto…” you tutted “One of these days that mouth of his is going to get him in trouble” 

You put your own glass down before adding “I'll be having a word with him. And you'd better not share whatever he told you with anyone else” 

He smirked, finishing his glass before standing up to put it in the sink. 

“Of course not…” he muttered as he turned around and stalked towards you “We wouldn't want my mouth getting me into any trouble, would we?” 

He stopped inches away from you, hands leaning on the table either side of you, effectively caging you in.  

“Or can I get into a little bit of trouble every now and then?” 

You weren't sure where his brazenness had come from, but his lazy smirk was getting you hot all over. You glanced at his lips, and he caught the movement. 

“Little Oliver Bearman?” you goaded him “he would never get into any trouble! He's an angel…”  

Your breaths mingled as he leaned in, painfully slowly, his pupils dilating as he closed the gap. 

“We'll see about that”  his lips lightly brushed yours, and you could feel him smiling, tempting, daring you to make a move. 

You did, you crumbled, leaning forwards and joining your lips heatedly. 

He tasted like oranges and sugar, and when you deepened the kiss he closed the space between your bodies, leaving absolutely no room for Jesus as he immediately started rocking his hips against yours, and you realised he definitely wasn't wearing any underwear. 

He took you right there on the kitchen table. 

He ate you out first, proving to you that his mouth was, in fact, trouble. 

Then he worshipped you with his hands while he reduced you to a puddle of goo on his cock. 

After, he asked if you wanted to stay the night, hang out, watch a movie or something. 

You agreed without hesitation.  

… 

You secretly, desperately hoped the Haas wasn't going to be a glorified wheelbarrow next season. 

Next on your list was Gabriel, and if his response to your message was anything to go by, he had definitely been briefed by Fernando beforehand. 

It took all of ten minutes of you crossing the threshold of his apartment, before he had you on your knees for him, swallowing around him as he looked down at your tear stained cheeks with nothing but hunger in his eyes. 

“Meu deus-” he groaned “Fernando was right, you do have a mouth worth fighting for” 

You hummed and took him deeper, sucking him down as far as you could, and it didn't take long for him to come with a shout down your throat. 

Once again you stayed the night, and in the morning he very kindly repaid you with three orgasms.  

One with you sitting on his face, one with his fingers dragging you to the edge of ecstasy with insane precision, and the last one with him bucking up into you while you held onto him for dear life. 

He was a lot of fun, that was undeniable. 

… 

But unfortunately for both of you, their really wasn't  much hope for the Sauber. 

Your tour of Italy ended in Kimi's apartment. 

And he had obviously not been briefed. 

He didn't seem like he had any inkling whatsoever about why you were there. 

When he opened the door he had his airpods in and he was sweating buckets. 

He was in the middle of a workout, and had lost track of time. 

“I am so sorry” he panted as he let you in “I didn't realise it was already time” 

You laughed at his panicked expression. 

“It s fine, Kimi. Just finish your workout I'm not in a rush.” 

He didn't seem to pick up on the way your hands lingered on his body when you hugged. 

So you watched him do the last part of his routine: weights. 

It was hard not to salivate. He'd rolled up his sleeves so that his arms were on full display, and you swore you saw a little smirk appear when he did. 

His biceps were objectively quite shocking in their size compared to the rest of him, and your gaze wandered over his body as it flexed. 

You couldn't help notice him repeatedly having to unstick his shirt from his body while grimacing at the feeling, so you took a gamble. 

“Kimi, if your shirt is bothering you, you can take it off” 

This time he definitely smirked at you. 

“Are you sure?” he grabbed the hem of his shirt “I don't want to make you uncomfortable” 

You bit the inside of your cheek at his tone, he was definitely trying to tease you. 

“Of course.” You giggled “Don't worry, I don't bite”  

Something in his gaze darkened and he muttered “that's a shame” before grabbing the back of the shirt and pulling it over his head. 

You could honestly say you definitely didn’t moan at the sight of his insane physique. 

Whatever went through your head in that moment was between you, and God. 

But Kimi could see the look on your face, jaw slack, dark eyes fixed on his sweaty muscles. 

You were no better than a man. You licked your lips and he laughed. 

“You sure you don't want a bite?” he teased, subtly flexing his arms. 

“Why don't you come here and find out?” you tried to sound confident but even to you it wasn't very convincing. 

That day, Kimi found out you loved to bite.  

And you found out he fucking loved to be bitten… everywhere. 

He fucked you on the workout bench. Then on the exercise mat on the floor, and by the end of it he was covered in teeth marks. 

His biceps, his neck, his tits, his thighs… 

He was going to have trouble explaining those to his physio. 

And everything he lacked in experience, he made up for in enthusiasm and endurance. 

Two to go… 

You were at it for so long the sun had set and you were both pretty hungry so you decided to order take-out before going to bed.  

Isack was a bit shy at first, not really knowing what to expect when you showed up at his front door. 

You decided to do Paris first, that way you could circle back to Monaco afterwards to see Jack, and then spend a couple of days with Oscar and Lando, like you'd promised. 

You sat next to him on the sofa, telling him about your… reward system. 

He was hesitant with his touch, hand softly caressing the skin of your thigh as you spoke, but he quickly got into the spirit when you straddled his lap and pulled him in for a kiss. 

As soon as your top was off he made sure to give your tits all the attention they deserved with his hands and most of all, his mouth. 

It was heavenly when it trailed along your collarbones, nipping and sucking at your skin while his hands made quick work of your clothing. 

And once he was inside you, it was his turn to be in heaven. 

He was mesmerized by the way his cock disappeared inside you every time you bounced in his lap, his hands tightening around your hips to help you along. 

“Putain…” you could tell he was getting close by the strain in his voice as he uttered curses against your skin. 

“Can I… inside?” he whined, looking up at you with a pout, those beautiful brown eyes staring into your soul, and you bit your lip at the sight. 

“Go on then Isack, fill me up” 

He groaned and his hips slammed up to meet yours, letting himself go completely. 

… 

He then played with your clit lazily, eyes on yours the whole time as he studied your reactions, and he made you come just like that, seated on his softening cock while he made you writhe on top of him. 

Monaco was just as sunny as Italy, but there was a slight chill in the air as you knocked on Jack's door. 

He opened it seconds later with a massive smirk adorning his features. 

“I was wondering if I'd be getting a visit from you during the break” 

He winked and let you in, offering you a drink as you made yourself comfortable. 

“Seems like word travels fast, then” you blushed as you sipped your drink. 

You were already feeling tingly because of the couple of drinks you'd had on the plane, so you didn't hesitate to put your legs up on his lap. 

“You have no idea” he chuckled, one of his hands going to stroke your thigh. “I've had quite a few interesting conversations about you” 

You rolled your eyes. “I’ve heard that a few times now… I need to teach my boys to be a bit more discreet if they want me to come to the races next year”  

He raised an eyebrow, looking at the way his hand was making goosebumps appear on your skin in its wake. 

“I'm sure I could do something to convince you” 

You put your glass down to disguise the way your heart was racing at the look he was giving you. 

“I'm sure you could. But where's the fun in that? They're the ones that have been running their mouths” 

He grinned, leaning closer to you. 

“If you'll let me take you upstairs, I could show you how I could be running my mouth” 

His gaze dropped to your lips, his pupils growing by the second. 

“You've given this some thought, haven't you?” you teased, rubbing your calf over where you could feel him, already half hard in his shorts. 

“I've had quite a bit of time to think about what I want to do to you” he growled, hands going to hold your hips. 

“By all means, then. Take me to bed Jack” 

He sprung into action, lifting your body easily and carrying you up the stairs to the bedroom. 

Once inside, he stripped you of your clothes and manhandled you onto your front. 

“Hips up, whore” he ordered, landing a light smack against your thigh and you gasped at the unexpected show of dominance. 

You did as he asked without hesitation, and he chuckled. “Already wet for me and I haven't even touched you” 

His resolve crumbled relatively quickly though, and he crawled up behind you to eat you out like a man starved. 

But as you trembled in his hold, his attention slowly moved upwards. 

Well it was rare that anyone ate your ass, but he was doing so with so much gusto you couldn't help but moan into the pillow you were gripping onto for dear life. 

A bottle of lube and a few fingers later, you were spread out under him, your legs having given out embarrassingly early in process. 

He was inside you, rocking his hips against yours while your wetness spilled onto the sheets uselessly. 

You begged and begged, but no use. 

He wasn't usually a selfish lover by any means, there was just something about you that made him want to see you squirming and desperate. 

“Whores don't get to have their cunts filled” he said with a mean lilt to his voice. “But I am feeling merciful, so you can come if you can be bothered to do it yourself” 

You obeyed without question, reaching down under your body to help yourself along. 

He felt you come around him before he heard the high pitched moan come out of your mouth. 

Well, you had your work cut out for you with these rookies, and getting to play with them all season long was going to be so much fun, you could feel it. 

You clenched so tight around him he had no choice but to finish inside you, rocking against you until you both shuddered in overstimulation. 

You stayed the night at Jack's, shooting Oscar and Lando a quick text to let them know you were back in Monaco, and that they would soon be able to collect their Championship prize, just as promised. 

[joelsprettyprincess]

Taming of the Shrew - Part 3

Pairing: dark!Arthur Morgan x f!reader Summary: Desperate times call for desperate measures. Series-wide tags: Toxic relationships, manipulation, obsessive behavior, smut, secretly unprotected piv, babytrapping, pregnancy, canon-typical violence, slight canon-typical misogyny. Wordcount: 3.4k A/N: This is the final part to this mini-series! I meant to upload it last night but I added in some things last minute. Thank yall so much for all the love on the first two parts, and thank you for reading!! As always, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Tags: @dandelion-ranch @i-will-give-you-love @amaranth-writing @heloixe @buneio @warmsideofthepillow03 @thoughts-of-bear @luzzbuzz @batmandallyboy

Part 2

You remained holed up in your room all day, alternating between sobbing and staring blankly at the wall. No matter what transpired, your life was irreversibly altered. Even if you gave away the baby and came home, you would still be the loose hussy. The unruly girl. Doomed to a life of being a spinster and an example to the younger girls in town.

At some point you started praying, hoping God would hear you and somehow lift you from this awful predicament.

All too soon, Elisabeth knocked on the door, saying you were being summoned to the sitting room. You were on edge; it felt like you could feel your individual neurons pulsing and transmitting a network of regret all over your body.

You dragged your feet downstairs and trudged to the sitting room, feeling like you were approaching the guillotine. 

Your two executioners sat on the couch. Your mother had an angry, nasty look on her face while your father seemed a bit apprehensive. It was clear she hadn’t told him yet, choosing instead to let him wonder.

“Sit down,” your mother said icily.

You sat. 

“Our lovely daughter has something to tell us, darling,” she said in a sickly sweet voice. 

You were starting to think she was genuinely evil. You kept silent. Lord, save me. 

“Go on, don’t be shy.” Your mother chuckled. “Or shall I?”

There was no way you were going to admit to your father what you’d done. Eating nails would be preferable to this.

She scoffed. “Alright then. Our daughter…this woman…has gone and got herself with child.”

Both you and your father flinched, him with surprise and you with shame. You bowed your head low. Your secret was out in the open now. 

“With child?” he repeated incredulously. “How?”

How, indeed.

“That is the question,” your mother said. “She won’t tell me who the father is, or she doesn’t know.”

Your father struggled to form words. You didn't dare meet their gazes.

“Is this true?” he finally asked you.

Of course it was true. It was the worst, most painful truth of your life. “Yes,” you admitted in a tiny voice.

He shook his head in disappointment. “I just don't understand how this could happen,” he remarked. “What happened to our little girl?”

You hadn’t been a little girl in a long time, but you didn’t bother pointing this out.

“Do you have any idea who the father is?” your mother demanded. “Or are you such a loose hussy that it could be any man in town? Is that what you’ve been doing every time you sneak out? Answer me!” 

I hate you.

You put your head in your hands and sobbed. 

Your mother sighed. “Now I suppose you’ll wash my feet with your tears next? Stop with the crocodile tears. If you thought yourself mature enough to partake in such activities, you’re surely smart enough to know the consequences.”

The tears came harder and faster. You could barely stand to be here any longer. This was pure torture. You just wanted…well, what you wanted was far away right now, and also the cause of your problems. 

“I’m sending you to the nunnery,” your mother announced, raising her voice above your noisy sobs. “Until this…issue is resolved. You clearly need the fear of God put into you.”

Anything but that! “No!” you cried. “No, please, I can’t! Mother, please!”

“We have no other choice,” she replied flatly. “I will not allow you to bring shame upon this family. Now, you’re dismissed back to your room and don’t you dare try to leave and corrupt anyone else with the knowledge of your actions. Just the sight of you disgusts me.”

“Father,” you pleaded. “Don’t let her do this!”

Your father, the coward, was already standing up. “Well, I don’t think I should disagree with your mother-”

“To your room,” your mother spoke angrily.

You ran out of the room, despaired, fearful, and angry all at once.

It had been less than 3 days since your parents were made aware of your pregnancy, and your mother moved like she had firecrackers under her feet, directing the packing up of your room.

You were being sent to a convent north of Valentine, many, many miles away. According to your mother, you would stay there until the baby was born and either raise it there or give it away. 

“If you ever return here, I have no desire to see a crying brat with you,” your mother told you bluntly. What a pleasant woman.

Well, you were not going to any nunnery, that was for sure. You had a plan. An admittedly rough around the edges one, but a plan nonetheless.

Late at night, you quietly packed a large satchel with clothes and essentials. You were getting the hell out of here, and you were going to track down Arthur.

It was his fault this was happening, and you would refuse to leave until he took responsibility. As much as you hated the idea of groveling at his feet, you had no other options. Raising a baby by yourself was basically unheard of, and you were almost certain to screw it up somehow.

The gang was no longer hiding at Clemen’s Point. You knew this because you’d (ashamedly) ridden down to see Arthur about a month after your final meeting, and saw that the land was abandoned.

At the time you figured it was best he was gone. That toxic energy was better off not being in your life, and so what if you craved his red-hot touch every single day, and touched yourself thinking of him, hoping to replicate the feel of his thick fingers massaging your pussy?

Anyway, you had an idea of where he was. He’d told you before that the gang would probably move further east to outrun the Pinkertons, and he’d expressed his distaste of Saint Denis. 

So, he was possibly somewhere near Saint Denis, maybe on the outskirts. You’d have to ask around a bit. It would be a daunting task– a single, defenseless woman in a big, strange city. 

Not to mention pregnant. Maybe you should have taken those shooting lessons after all.

And it wasn’t like he was waiting for you there– surely the gang was laying low, after that crazy shootout with the Grays in town.

You finished packing and sneaked downstairs, careful to stick to the edge of the stairway. Your parents were apparently asleep, and only some of the help was awake this late.

Elisabeth, as kind as she was, couldn’t be trusted. She was in the pay of your mother and therefore on the enemy’s side.

So you had no one, no companion but your horse, Maverick. He was a very dependable creature and honestly your only friend. 

You attached your satchel to his saddle, then got on and quietly directed him off the property. Luckily the help wasn’t paid to ask questions, so no one batted an eye as you passed by. 

You didn’t dare make a sound, or even breathe, until the manor disappeared from view, and all you could see for miles was the forest and the midnight blue sky.

Sighing in relief, you sped up almost to a gallop, going towards Saint Denis. It wasn’t a terribly long ride, but it was long enough and made more difficult by worrying about your…Arthur’s...child. You still couldn’t quite get used to saying that. 

After some time, you arrived in Saint Denis. It was about 12am, and you were eager to be off the road after getting lost several times and nearly falling into a swamp. You led Maverick to a hotel, where you purchased a room for the night.

You laid down on the bed. It wasn’t nearly as comfortable as the one back home, but it was miles away from your troubles. That was the important bit.

Snuggling into the pillow, you sighed deeply, formulating a plan to look for Arthur. You would try the saloon first; he’d spent a lot of time there in Rhodes, and you were sure he hadn’t changed that habit. After that, perhaps the post office, or the stables. 

You fell asleep dreaming of his beard scratching against your face and his fingers exploring your filthiest bits.

The next morning, you rode over to the saloon and inquired about Arthur with the bartender. “Tall, broad, very handsome, with brown hair,” you explained. “Looks like a gunslinger.”

“Oh yes, him and his pals have come here a few times,” the bartender exclaimed. “They was just down here last night, even.”

Dammit. You’d just missed him. But that confirmed he was in Saint Denis. “Did he say anything about where he was staying?”

He shook his head. “No ma’am, not that I can recall. But just turn up here ‘round six and he’ll surely be here.”

That was that, then. You would come back to the bar later tonight and catch him.

You left the saloon and remounted Maverick in hopeful spirits. Now that you knew for sure he was here, it was okay to relax a bit. And you definitely felt worn out after that long journey.

You stopped by the general store to get some fresh food and an apple for Maverick. A bit of rum would have taken the edge off, but you supposed it wasn’t good given your…condition.

Arriving back at the hotel, you bathed and washed your hair. As silly as it probably was, you wanted to look nice for Arthur. To show that you were a survivor.

Your thoughts drifted. What kind of a father would he be? What kind of family unit would you be? What with him still on the run, still following that silver-tongued Dutch, it would be difficult for you to run from place to place with him. Perhaps he would just tell you to get a room in Saint Denis and he would visit when he could. What if he walked out of your life one day, and never entered it again?

A scenario like that would effectively doom you for life. You weren’t certain you could stomach giving the baby away, but the thought of raising a child with no money or prior knowledge made you equally queasy. 

But even if Arthur let you stay with him– what then? You’d seen the mess that was John Marston’s relationship with his family. And Jack, the little boy. Did you want your child in the same circumstances?

Arthur is not like John, you told yourself firmly. But really, you had no way to tell until he knew.

You spent the day milling about Saint Denis, exploring the markets and seeing the many entertainers on the streets. The people were definitely ruder here, more coarse and quick to anger. It almost made you miss Rhodes.

Almost, anyway.

At about six o’clock you came back to the saloon. Your heart was pounding like crazy, and you mentally prepared yourself for what you were going to say.

Arthur, I’m expecting.

Arthur, I’m pregnant…and it’s yours.

Please help me.

I’ve nowhere else to go.

Please?

You opened the doors, swallowing hard and gritting your teeth.

“Arthur,” you squeaked, then looked around. It was quite full of businessmen, factory workers, and the odd prostitute. 

You carefully took a pace around the room, searching for that familiar form. You looked all over, but didn’t hear him nor see him. Nor anyone from the gang.

Sidling up to the bartender (a different one this time), you asked, “Excuse me, sir, have you seen a…a gunslinger-type fellow here? Brown hair with a beard. Super handsome. You would remember him.”

He thought for a bit while pouring glasses. “Don’t think so, madam. But a lot of people come through here, I might just not remember. If you don’t see him here, you can sit near the door, watch it n’ see if he comes in.”

Sigh. “Alright, thank you kindly.”

You took up a post near the door, awkwardly clutching your satchel, examining everyone that came through the door. More men, some women, even a couple rough-looking folks that looked like the company Arthur kept. But no Arthur.

Unbelievable. Had the bartender from yesterday been mistaken? Or did the gang skip town already?...Most likely, it was just a fluke and they decided not to come today. Dammit!

After about half an hour of waiting, you gave up, just wanting to lie down. You dejectedly got up and exited the saloon.

However, as soon as you did, you almost ran face first into someone’s horse.

The horse nearly trampled you, and you screamed in fear as you tripped and fell to the ground.

“What the hell?!” you cried, shaken. What idiot couldn’t control their horse?

“Dammit, sorry, lady,” a gruff voice spoke. The man got his horse under control after a bit of calming. “You okay– wait…do I know you?”

You got up, dusting off your skirt, looked closer at the man and gasped. It was Bill Williamson, another member of the Van Der Linde gang!

This was an extremely lucky situation. “Bill?” you asked, praying you were right.

“Yeah,” he confirmed. “Ain’t you…wasn’t you Arthur’s little thing?”

You crossed your arms. “Yes, I know Arthur. Is he here?”

Bill shook his head. “No, he’s back at camp–, err, well, no. He ain’t here. You know, he acted mighty strange after you left–”

“Can you take me to him? Please, Bill,” you begged. “It’s imperative.”

He sighed and scratched his nose. “I was plannin’ on gettin’ drunk…but I s’pose so. But keep your voice down, we’re not exactly best buds with the Pinkertons right now. You got a horse?”

“I do.” 

You quickly mounted Maverick, then followed Bill out of Saint Denis towards the gang’s camp. You were practically buzzing with nervousness. The courage you’d had last night had been used up, and now you were just scared. Would he reject you, force you back to your parents? Or claim that the baby wasn’t his? What if he had a new girl?!

You cleared your throat. “Has he…err, has Arthur…been seeing anyone else since I left?”

Bill laughed. “Arthur? Hell no. I swear, all he talks about is you. Back in Rhodes, he swore up and down you would be back soon. Heh, we all had a good laugh at him then. But I guess the joke’s on us, now that you’re here.”

Well, that was good at least. But why was he so sure you would be back? You’d mutually agreed never to contact each other again.

It was kind of ironic. You’d insisted on cutting him off, yet here you were, chasing him down.

After a few minutes of riding, you finally arrived at the dilapidated house the gang was calling their home. It looked more like a demolition zone to you, but you supposed they would take what they could get after Rhodes.

“Here we are, little lady,” Bill announced. “Arthur!”

You dismounted your horse and went into the main campsite. Karen, Javier, Charles…the gang was all here. You got a few greetings and hand waves from the women.

“Arthur,” Bill barked. “You got a visitor, get out here!”

You stood awkwardly by the entrance of the house, looking in the propped open door, waiting for Arthur with bated breath.

Dutch was sitting by the front door, reading. He looked up when you approached. “Well, welcome back, sweetheart,” he said in that demeaning voice. “You wasn’t followed, were you? A lot of people want us dead right now.”

“Err, no sir, I don’t think so,” you squeaked. Dutch made you uncomfortable. You got the feeling he thought of women as delicate creatures that were lesser than men. Even with the few times you’d been to camp, you had heard the cruel words he flung at and about Molly.

You just hoped none of it had rubbed off on Arthur. You knew he was fiercely loyal to the man.

Heavy footsteps could be heard from inside the house. “Alright, I’m comin’, shut up,” a familiar voice grunted.

A lightning strike bolted down between your legs and you gasped softly when Arthur’s familiar, muscular form filled your vision.

“What-” he started, then froze when his eyes landed on you. His lips parted, but no words came out for a second. “You-”

“Arthur,” you whispered.

This was the greatest day of his life.

Arthur was certain he’d failed to impregnate you. That you’d been living fine all this time, not sparing a single thought to his well being.

But you were here. You’d hunted him down, somehow, and you looked scared out of your mind. And he could guess why.

He licked his lips. “What’re you doin’ here, sweetheart?”

You stared at him for a good few seconds, transfixed by his rugged beauty. “Can we talk somewhere private?”

Arthur took you to the back of the house. The two of you sat in the grass, legs crossed.

“How’d you find me?” he asked.

“By chance,” you said. “I knew you went east, so I asked around at Saint Denis– then I ran straight into Bill.”

He nodded. “You…you got somethin’ to tell me?”

You took a deep breath. Now that the moment was actually here, every nerve in your body was thrumming with anticipation. “I’m…well, actually, I’m…pregnant.”

The only sound was the chirping of birds. 

“Excuse me?” he said quietly.

You felt ashamed. “I’m with child, Arthur. My parents done kicked me out because of it. S’why I came here.”

“You’re pregnant,” he said slowly, like he’d never heard the word before.

“Yes. And you’re the father for sure.”

He stayed silent for a bit, but you could hear his breath accelerate sharply.

You felt scared of what he was thinking. “Arthur?”

After a long period of silence, he said, “Are you showin’ yet?”

What an odd question. “A little.”

“Can I see?”

What? But you obliged, letting him lift up your skirt high enough to show off your bump.

Arthur inhaled sharply, then put his hand on your belly. “That’s– that’s my baby,” he murmured, almost to himself.

“I’m about 4 months along, I think,” you said, fixing your clothes. “So…so are you going to…step up? I don’t have anyone else, Arthur.” Your voice turned squeaky and desperate, and tears threatened to fall from your eyes. “My parents wanted to send me to a convent–”

“Baby, hey, shh. I can promise you I ain’t goin’ nowhere,” Arthur said hoarsely. “You’re staying here with me.”

You felt butterflies in your stomach at his declaration. He was such a…man. Never afraid to take responsibility or action. You were supremely glad that he was going to take care of you and the baby. However long the gang could outrun the Pinkertons, he would, you knew it.

Arthur embraced you, curving his hands around your stomach and kissing your cheek. The two of you rocked back and forth for a minute, in unadulterated bliss. Everything melted away: the camp, the law, your parents. It was just you and him. And the baby between you.

"Told ya, you belong with me," he whispered in your ear.

Arthur was right. You came back again and again and again because you craved the action. You craved excitement and freedom and yes, even bloodshed to a certain extent. There was no use trying to leave him when he represented everything you wanted in life, even the most sinful things.

He was made for you.

Arthur hustled you back up to where Dutch was, fighting a raging erection. Seeing his girl growing round with his baby was insanely satisfying. He felt that was an appropriate reward for everything he had worked for.

And now you were certain to be stuck with him. With a baby in you, you couldn’t do much of anything, much less run away again. He would gently insist that you stay in Shady Belle to recuperate from your no doubt difficult journey east, then as the months went by you would grow more and more dependent on him, stomach getting bigger every day, till you needed his help with the simplest tasks.

He would do it all for you. All this time, Arthur had tried to make you see that your place was by his side. It was just unfortunate that he’d had to resort to deceit to make you realize the truth.

But no matter. All was forgiven. He couldn’t wait to see your pregnant body and show you off to everyone in camp.

And just maybe he would put another kid or two in you, in case you had any doubts after the first one.

Arthur sighed in contentment as he approached Dutch to explain the situation. No matter what, he knew your love was genuine. It burned brighter than the sun, certain to destroy anyone that dared cross its path.

You, him, and your child– you would make a picture perfect family. He was certain of it.

End.

[manonsmartini]

Maniac: We Had Magic But You Made It Tragic

Daniela Avanzini x fem!reader

3.3k words | established relationship | story starts with predebut daniela | predebut friends are fictional

angst, fluff, homophobia, closeted, suggestive(ish) joke

In all honesty, it is truly dreadful to walk these halls, and you'd rather be anywhere than here at the moment. Opening the door to your locker though, you couldn't help the smile that crept to your lips at the sight of a little brown teddy bear, already having an idea of how it ended up in your locker.

"Hi cutie, I'll meet you up at your place tonight @ 10," a small handwritten letter said.

You stifle a chuckle, remembering that you once told Daniela that you valued handwritten letters, and although this is not the type of handwritten letter you had in mind, knowing that it came from the blonde made it a hundred times better.

After getting your stuff from the locker, you headed to your next class.

As you sat in your chair, you couldn't help but let your mind wander to the girl that has been taking over your thoughts for the past three months. You didn't even know why someone like Daniela would give you the time of day—heck, she's literally THE Daniela Avanzini. It is especially shocking because prior to her taking an interest in you, you would have sworn that she is exclusively a boy kisser.

It still baffles you every time you think about your first interaction. It was at the parking lot near the campus grounds, it’s already dark and you had been standing there alone, waiting for someone you barely knew.

“Your date stood you up?” You visibly jolted, shocked at the sudden voice behind you. Turning around, you were surprised to see Daniela Avanzini staring right at you, a smirk visible on her lips, her arms crossed over her chest while her hands held her car keys.

“What, you see a loser in the wild and you immediately assume that she got stood up by a date? That’s very judgemental of you,” You replied, light-heartedly.

Although you meant it as a joke, you could see the shift in the girl’s demeanor, scratching her loose blond curls, looking slightly embarrassed, “Oh— I… I didn’t—”

“It’s alright, I was messing with you,” You cut her off. Daniela nodded before regaining her composure, “So what are you doing here all alone?”

Studying her face, it took you a hot minute to answer because first of all, you did not expect her to engage in an actual conversation with you; sure you expected a snarky remark about getting ditched by a date, but you didn’t expect her to actually talk to you. You immediately convinced yourself that she probably still feels guilty about her assumption which you called her out for.

“I mean if you don’t mind me asking,” Daniela added, “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to sound like a creep, especially not in an empty parking lot.”

You realized that while you were overthinking, you were simply staring at the blonde’s face, probably making her feel more tense than she already was, “No, I don’t mind at all, sorry,” You started, “My mind went blank all of a sudden, it’s just that Hailey borrowed my notes yesterday and she asked me to meet her here so that she could return them.”

The blonde clicked her tongue before replying, “Well damn, I guess you’re not getting it tonight though.”

You look at her in question, “Why not?”

“She and her boyfriend had an argument earlier so now she’s at his place because he’s trying to make it up to her,” Daniela says.

“Oh, wow. Thanks for the heads up, god I hope she told me that herself so that I didn’t have to wait here all night thinking she had dance practice or something,” You said, obviously pissed, but your foul mood was not directed towards the blonde in front of you, rather it was for the blonde that ditched you.

“Look, I’m sure Hailey just forgot, she tends to do that when she’s stressed by her boyfriend, and maybe she couldn’t text you because she didn’t have your number,” Daniela tried to reason.

Now you felt bad because although she’s not the person you’re pissed at, she’s definitely in the receiving end of your attitude so you straightened up and said, “Yeah you’re right, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be a bitch towards you, I really do appreciate you telling me all this.”

Daniela flashes you a bright smile, her dimple showing, and you swore your heart bursted at the sight, “No worries at all, god knows what I would’ve said and done if I were in your position,” She wraps her hand around your arm, caressing it, “It’s all good, don’t worry, you weren’t a bitch at all.”

You could feel goosebumps all over the arm that the dancer held, especially with her eyes locked onto yours, it felt like you were suffocating but in the best way possible.

“Well, since we have established that you wouldn’t be seeing Hailey tonight, do you have any other plans?”

“Other than going home?” You asked, shocked that she would even ask such a question.

Daniela flashed you another smile, her dimple once again making an appearance, "I'd seriously kill for an unhealthily greasy burger right now," You could see the girl studying your face before continuing, "I was wondering if you'd like to join me?"

"I–" You honestly fell silent, not knowing how to respond to a really pretty girl asking you to eat with her, "Sure, I'd love to."

The dancer's smile widens, her eyes practically glowing in the dimly lit parking lot, "Great, I know a really good place. My car's just over there," The girl turns around, pointing towards her red car.

You nodded, and followed her when she started making her way towards the vehicle, "Oh shit, I forgot to ask," She turns back to face you, "Do you have a ride? Sorry, I just assumed that you'd ride with me…"

Daniela laughs awkwardly, scratching her head before adding, "God, I should really stop assuming things about you."

You gave the blonde a genuine smile of your own, finding the whole interaction adorable, "It's fine, Daniela, I don't mind, and no, I don't have a ride."

The girl's eyes visibly widened at the mention of her name, "Oh god," she said.

You look at her in curiosity, "Why? Is there something wrong?" You asked as the both of you approached the car.

"I just remembered, I didn't even introduce myself to you," The blonde said, a look of utter disbelief painted on her face. You couldn't help but chuckle at the girl.

"Daniela," you started, emphasizing her name, "I highly doubt that you even have to; you're like one of the most well-known students in our batch," you gave her a kind smile before adding, "If anything, I should be the one worried that I haven't introduced myself."

The dancer shakes her head in disagreement, "No," She starts, "Well, I already know you, I mean, I've seen you perform at some of your gigs," You could feel your cheeks heating up as the girl opens the car door for you, her eyes steady on your frame. You never would have thought that she'd be hanging out at the cafes that you played in, other than the fact that you'd never seen her, it just doesn't seem like her vibe.

"Oh, well, I'd hardly call it a performance," You replied as she finally enters her car, getting ready to drive off, "I just go up the stage with a guitar and sing," You could see the girl about to disagree with you when you added, "You on the other hand, wow, you are a performer."

Despite her focus being trained on the road, you could see the pink tint coloring the girl's cheeks, "That is not true," was all she could say.

"Oh come on, Daniela," You started, "You're a dance prodigy—you know for a fact that I'm right."

That night was the start of something unexpected; a vicious and feisty force that was Daniela just waltz into your life without any warning, and ever since then, the girl kept finding ways to bump into you and spark a conversation with you.

And of course, you did not even try to avoid it; in fact, you loved the attention that Daniela gave you—she's such an addictive person and the more you saw her, the more you wanted to bask in her presence.

It didn't even take the dancer long before she finally asked you out on a real date, which ended successfully, causing the both of you to finally have a mutual understanding of dating each other in private, mostly because she is not ready to come out of the closet.

You were lying on your bed, scrolling through twitter when you received a text from your girlfriend, telling you that she's right outside. You send her a quick response before quietly rushing out of your bedroom to sneak her into your house.

Daniela never fails to look amazing whenever she meets up with you. Sure, the latina always looks absolutely stunning even without much effort, but there's certainly something different every time she goes out to see you, and in a way, it gives you a sense of pride knowing that only you get to see her this way, and that maybe, just maybe, she puts in the effort to look good for you.

"Are you doing anything this Saturday?" The dancer looks at you expectantly as she laid on your lap, both of you resting comfortably on your bed. You had an exam on Monday that you really had to prepare for, but you decided to ask the dancer, "Do you have any plans in mind?"

"Mhm," She nods adorably, sitting up straight facing you, "I was wondering if you'd like to go to the movies with me," Daniela basically pleads with her eyes, "My friends have been raving about this one horror film, and I really really want to watch it. Please?"

Now seriously, how do you say no to that? Exactly, you don't.

After making plans with her, both of you cuddled on your bed with the latina being the small spoon. You spoke into her exposed neck, feeling the goosebumps immediately form around the area, "Dani, baby, it's midnight."

The blonde sighs before turning around to face you. She stares into your eyes before she wraps her arm on your waist holding you closer, and buries her face on your chest.

“I don’t care,” Daniela says, squeezing your body closer which you didn’t even think was possible. As much as you didn’t want her to go, you replied, “Tomorrow’s a school day, Dani, you have to go back home.”

The girl only grumbled in response so you continued, “Besides, my parents would freak out if they see a stranger’s car outside our house.”

Daniela finally separates her face from your chest, looking at you sheepishly, “But I’m not a stranger now, am I? Not with all the things I’m doing to their little princess,” she says, a smirk evident on her lips.

Your cheeks heat up at her words, choosing to ignore her insinuation, you said, “To them, you are a stranger, and I can’t exactly introduce you to them as my friend because that just feels wrong.”

You could see the pout forming on the latina’s lips and you wanted nothing more than to kiss it away. It seems as though Daniela read your thoughts because not even a minute later her hand brushes your cheeks before leaning into you, taking your lips in a slow kiss.

“Alright, I’ll go,” Daniela says, her lips still on yours, “I’ll miss you,” she utters.

You bite her bottom lip, urging her to kiss you once again, “Don’t be silly, we’ll see each other on campus.”

Daniela Avanzini is truly addictive—a girl like her is hard to let go of and you are certain that you are the luckiest person alive knowing that you get to call her your girlfriend, albeit not publicly. The mere knowledge that she likes you is enough.

However, it would be a lie if you said that it didn’t bother you: keeping your relationship secret. You were a private person yourself, but lov—liking Daniela feels like it isn’t enough; you feel the need to tell the world that you are hers.

You couldn’t help but compare yourself to her ex boyfriend, a famous jock in your highschool, and how public their relationship was. It wasn’t that you were jealous. No—but you sure feel envious of what they had.

How freely he could visit Daniela at her home, her family welcoming him with open arms. How he could easily tag along with Daniela’s friends when they hangout. How he was able to tell the whole school how much Daniela meant to him.

You weren’t jealous of him, but you envied what he had with Daniela. Because as much as the latina makes an effort to see you, it feels like the effort to hide you from her life was bigger.

Like how she barely acknowledges you at school, the way she makes an effort to go to campus at a ridiculously early hour just to slip a note in your locker so that no one would see her, how she would visit your home late at night and having to sneak her in. Although it hasn’t been long, she already means the world to you, and whenever your mind touches these thoughts, you can’t avoid the bitter feeling that grows in your chest.

But deep inside, you knew that Daniela was worth the wait. You don't know how much time she needs before she feels comfortable enough to let this secret out, but until then, you would settle for anything that the girl was ready to give.

Saturday rolls around and you could barely contain your excitement. It has been a while since you actually went out with Daniela; she only either sneaked into your room or she’d pick you up to sneak you into hers.

You find yourself overthinking about what to wear to your date with the blonde, not wanting to go overboard but also wanting to look pretty for the girl. You settled with a casual outfit that you were comfortable in, but tried to make an effort in your appearance by putting on some makeup.

Not long after getting ready, you received a text message from your girlfriend. You smiled at her words before typing in your response.

Double checking whether everything is in place, you gathered your stuff and headed out the house. As much as you were pretty introverted, your parents don't exactly question you as much when you leave because for the most part, they assume that you’ll be out singing at cafes.

When you arrived at the gas station, you could already see the striking red car of your girlfriend. Daniela spots you from the driver’s seat and immediately vacates her vehicle to greet you.

The blonde carefully studies your frame from your shoes til her eyes slowly reach yours, taking in your appearance, “You look amazing,” She said, seemingly breathless.

You’re sure that a pink tint has appeared on your cheeks as you feel them heat up at your girlfriend’s compliment mixed with her intense stare, “And you look beautiful, Dani, as always.”

The blonde steps into your personal space and wraps her arms around you, a hand reaching the back of your head, urging you to bury your face onto the crook of her neck.

“I missed you,” Daniela says as she plants a soft kiss on your temple, still holding onto you. You were grateful that she was practically shielding you from the world because it meant that you could hide the stupidly big smile on your lips, feeling both joyful and perplexed at the public display of affection coming from the latina. You truly prayed for times like this.

The mere action made you hopeful; perhaps things are finally about to change.

Little did you know, you were right—things were about to change, but not for the better.

The film that you watched was great. Sure, it was scary and you had a few jumps and shrieks which were embarrassing to say the least, but every time you did so, Daniela held you as close as possible, so you still considered it as a win.

As the movie ended, both of you made your way out of the cinema, “Dani,” you called out to the blonde, “I’ll just go to the bathroom real quick,” you informed her.

She nodded and said, “Alright, I’ll be waiting for you outside.”

As Daniela exited the cinema, she heard a familiar voice calling her, “Dani?” The latina freezed at her spot, trying to calm her nerves before turning around to face the girl who was already smiling widely at her.

“Hey Hailey,” the latina greeted her friend, feeling uncomfortable but trying her hardest not to let it show, “You watched the movie?”

The other blonde shook her head no, “We’re just about to watch it, but I thought I saw you leaving the cinema so I followed you just to be sure.”

“Why didn’t you say that you were going to go to the movies? We could’ve gone together!” Hailey said, then suddenly she squints her eyes at the latina, “Or are you here on a date? Oh my god Daniela, who are you with?”

Daniela tried to act nonchalantly, rolling her eyes at her friend’s excitement with a smirk on her face. She knew that you could come out any minute, and that there’s probably no way out of this situation so she tried her best to save her face.

“Oh god, you won’t even believe me if I told you,” Daniela said, a laugh laced with her tone, “I went with Y/N.”

“What?” Hailey looks surprised, “I didn’t know you two were friends?”

“We’re not,” Daniela laughs lightly, “It’s a bit of a long story so I’ll text you the details later, but yeah…” the girl trailed off, “She seems to admire me so I went with it, and in return I get free booze and food from her,” Daniela laughs.

Her friend widens her eyes before she laughs with her friend, “Oh my god, Daniela! You must be so bored with your life! That’s so funny though,” the girl laughs, “And really smart, damn.”

“Yeah,” The latina agrees, “You know how she sings at some cafes and bars?” Her friend nods, urging her to continue, “Well, let’s just say that I can confirm that the foods and drinks from those places are pretty good.”

Hailey was just about to reply to the other dancer when the pair spotted you exiting the cinema, cutting their conversation to a sudden end. You raised your gaze and your eyes met your girlfriend’s, then her friend’s who was looking at you with amusement in her eyes.

You almost stopped in your tracks knowing that Daniela never told her friends that she even knows you, but seeing the girl’s smile, you felt at ease and decided to approach the pair.

“Hey,” you said, nervously. “Oh my god,” Hailey says, “I have to go, the movie’s about to start.”

She locks eyes with the other blonde before saying, “I’ll catch up with you later, alright? Tell me everything.”

Both you and Daniela watched as the girl entered the cinema, and as she was no longer in sight, the blonde broke the silence, “Hey, you ready to go home?”

You met your girlfriend’s gaze, studying her face, unsure of whether you should ask her about Hailey or not, but decided against it, thinking that if she wants to talk about it, she’ll bring it up.

A small smile appears on your lips before you reply, “Yeah, let’s go.”

part 2 coming soon | main

[thollandsgirl2013]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐥

Parings → Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings → fluff, awkwardness, new relationship

Summary → Peter walks in on you sleeping in a towel.

Peter was excited, practically bouncing on his feet as he approached your house. The two of you had been dating for a month now, and he loved surprising you whenever he could. You worked long shifts at the café and were always tired when you got home. He figured surprising you today, spending time with you and Maybe if possible, having dinner together, would be a great way to relax.

Your mom opened the door, smiling when she saw him. "Peter! What a surprise. Come on in."

"Hey, Mrs. Y/L/N. Is Y/n home?" Peter asked, stepping inside and rubbing his palms together nervously.

"She just got home not too long ago. She's in her room, probably resting. Why don’t you stay for dinner?"

Peter grinned. "Thanks! I’d love to."

Your mom chuckled at his eagerness. "Go on up and say hi to her. Just knock first, you know how Y/n can be after work."

Peter nodded, making his way to your room. As he climbed the stairs, he felt that familiar nervous energy bubble up in his stomach. It was still new—this whole relationship thing with you. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was, but that didn’t stop him from feeling jittery around you sometimes.

When he reached your bedroom door, he knocked softly. "Y/n? It’s me, Peter."

Silence.

He knocked again, a little louder. "Y/n? You there?"

Still no response. He furrowed his brow, listening closely, and then decided to quietly open the door. Maybe you fell asleep. As he stepped inside, he froze, his eyes widening at the sight before him.

There you were, lying across your bed, indeed fast asleep, but wrapped in nothing but just a towel. Your damp hair spilled over your pillow, and your cheek was squished against the fabric, giving you that adorable post-nap look. Peter's heart skipped a beat, and not just because you looked so beautiful. He immediately felt awkward, his cheeks flushing bright red.

“Oh… oh no," he whispered to himself, quickly shutting the door behind him. He looked away, trying to figure out what to do. Should he wake you? Leave? He didn’t want to make things awkward, but the last thing he wanted was for you to wake up and freak out because he saw you like this.

Peter bit his lip, staring at the floor. "Okay, uh… just breathe, Parker. It’s fine. It’s totally fine."

He approached the bed cautiously, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. You looked so peaceful, your chest rising and falling gently as you slept. Part of him wanted to let you rest—you worked so hard all the time—but the other part was panicking because, well, towel.

"Y/n… Y/n?" He whispered your name softly, hoping you’d wake up without too much of a start. He lightly touched your shoulder, and that seemed to do the trick. You stirred, letting out a soft groan as your eyes fluttered open.

"Mmm… Peter?" You mumbled, still half-asleep.

"Uh, yeah. Hey," Peter said, his voice slightly strained as he awkwardly scratched the back of his neck. "Sorry, I… I knocked, but you didn’t answer, and your mom said I could come up, and… you were asleep. In...a... a towel."

Your eyes shot open as you processed his words, immediately realizing your current state. "Oh my god!" You yelped, sitting up and clutching your towel tightly around yourself. Your face turned beet red as you pulled the blanket over your body for extra coverage.

Peter quickly turned away, raising his hands in surrender. "I didn’t see anything! I swear, I just—uh—I just… didn’t know what to do!"

You blinked a few times, your heart racing from the embarrassment, but after a moment, you couldn’t help but laugh. Peter was a flustered mess, standing there with his back turned, still rambling nervously.

"It’s fine, Peter. I’m not mad," you reassured him, though your voice still held a hint of laughter. "I was just… I fell asleep after my shower."

Peter slowly turned around, relief flooding his features. "Oh, thank God. I thought I’d ruined everything for a second."

You smiled, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself as you sat up more comfortably on the bed. "No, you’re fine. I’m the one who fell asleep in a towel. That’s on me."

Peter chuckled nervously. "Yeah, I mean, you must’ve been really tired." He gestured toward the door. "Should I, uh… wait outside while you get dressed?"

You nodded, feeling your cheeks heat up again. "Yeah, that’d be great. Give me like… five minutes."

"Right! Five minutes. Got it." Peter quickly shuffled out of the room, shutting the door behind him. He leaned against it, letting out a long breath. That was definitely not how he expected the evening to go.

Inside, you hurriedly got dressed, your heart still racing from the awkwardness. You couldn’t believe Peter had seen you like that, but at the same time, you couldn’t help but smile at how sweet and awkward he was about the whole situation. It was kind of cute, actually.

After a few minutes, you pulled on a comfy pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, feeling much more relaxed now that you were clothed. You opened the door and found Peter standing in the hallway, still looking a little sheepish.

"Okay, I’m decent now," you said, smiling at him.

Peter turned around, grinning nervously. "Awesome. So… dinner?"

You laughed softly. "Yeah, let’s go."

---

Dinner was surprisingly less awkward than you thought it would be. Once the initial embarrassment wore off, you and Peter fell back into your usual rhythm, chatting and laughing over the meal your mom had made. Peter was his usual dorky self, cracking jokes and making you smile, and soon, the towel incident felt like a distant memory.

"So," Peter said between bites, "I was thinking… maybe after dinner, we could watch a movie or something? You know, since we haven’t really had a proper date night in a while."

You raised an eyebrow playfully. "You mean, apart from you seeing me half-naked earlier? That wasn’t enough excitement for you?"

Peter nearly choked on his food, his face turning red again as you laughed. "Okay, okay, I deserve that," he said, holding up his hands in surrender. "But in my defense, it was an accident."

"An adorable accident," you teased, making him blush even more.

"Y/n!" He groaned, covering his face with his hands. "You’re never going to let me live this down, are you?"

You grinned, leaning across the table to give him a playful poke. "Nope. But it’s okay. It’s part of your charm."

Peter peeked out from behind his hands, his lips curling into a shy smile. "Well, as long as you still like me, I guess I’ll survive."

You smiled back at him, your heart swelling with affection. "Of course I still like you, Parker. You’re my favorite dork."

Peter’s face lit up at your words, and he leaned across the table, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. "And you’re my favorite person."

The rest of the evening was spent cuddling on the couch, watching movies, and just enjoying each other’s company. All the awkwardness from earlier melted away, replaced by the warm, comforting feeling that came with being around someone you cared about.

And while Peter would probably still blush whenever he remembered the towel incident, it didn’t matter. He had you, and that was all that mattered.

‎∗ ࣪ ˖༺ 𓆩☆𓆪 ༻˖ ࣪ ∗

[thenickgirl]

What would Nick do if he got a call from the hospital saying that Jalen got into a bad car wreck from a drunk driver? I would love love love love love it if u could make it into one of those quick, short and sweet little paragraph thingy❤️

The black Kia sped along the highway, swerving in and out of lanes trying to get to the nearest hospital as fast as possible.

“Matt, please hurry,” Nick pleaded in the passenger seat, he was pale and shaking. His leg bounced up and down from anxiety, he had no idea whether his boyfriend would be dead, or alive when arrived. The thought that some stupid drunk could’ve taken Jalen away from him made him angry for a moment, but fear overpowered it, and he was back to worrying.

“I didn’t tell him I love him when I last saw him. I-I should’ve told him. What if I n-never see him again?” Nick’s lip quivered, as he started to sob. He couldn’t handle the idea of losing Jalen like this. He couldn’t imagine spending his life without him. Jalen meant the world to him, he was his comfort, his home, his baby.

“Nick, c’mon, he knows you love him, and i’m sure he’s gonna be fine.” Matt says softly, as he glances between Nick and the road.

From behind, Chris grabs Nick’s shaky hand, giving it a squeeze, “It’s going to be okay. He’s tough,” he said, masking his own worry with a smile to comfort his older brother. Jalen’s was his best friend, so he was just as anxious.

“Have you called Jade? What did she say?” Matt asks, as he drives like a bat out of hell.

“No, she’s not answering. I don’t know if she was with him, or not. Oh my god, what if they’re both dead?” Nick says, frantic.

“Nick, stop. Don’t say that!” Chris yelled, he hated when people said things like that, putting negative thoughts out into the universe has never done anyone any good.

The vehicle finally swerved into the emergency room lot, and before Matt could even put it in park, Nick ran out of the car to the sliding doors ahead of him. He could hear Chris and Matt in the distance yelling for him to wait, but he couldn’t. How could he when the love of his love could be hurt or worse? Jalen needed him. His family needed him.

When he approached the front desk he was panting, and the receptionist was startled at first. “May I help you?” She asks politely.

“I-Yes, uh, my boyfriend he, um, someone called me, and I-“

“Jalen Brooks, please.” Chris says, once he and Matt finally caught up to Nick.

The older woman nodded, before putting on her cheetah print glasses, as she checked her computer for Jalen’s information. “Room 303. You can all go up, but only one visitor in the room at a time, please.” She informs.

The trio thanked her, as they made their way to nearest elevator, going up to the third floor. Once they arrive, they sped down the halls looking for his room. “Right here!” Chris exclaimed, and they all stood outside the door.

“I-What if he-“ Nick stuttered, scared of what he might be walking into. He couldn’t bear the thought of this potentially being the last time he saw the man he loved.

“It’s okay, kid, just go. We’ll be right out here if you need us.” Matt says, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze before gently pushing him towards the door.

Nick knocks weakly, but it was clearly heard as he hears a faint ‘come in’ from the other side. He gulps before pushing on the handle and stepping inside.

“BABY!” Jalen exclaims once he sees the brunette, he had a cast around his foot and ankle, and Nick let out a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding, as he saw the dread headed boy smiling back at him.

“J! Oh my god, you idiot! I thought you were dead, I’m gonna kill you,” Nick says, while rushing over to hug Jalen.

“Ow ow ow,” Jalen winced, and Nick pulled back instantly, “Fuck, I’m so sorry. Are you okay? Oh my god, I can’t believe this,” Nick rambles as he sits on the bed, looking at Jalen’s condition.

“A little beat up, but I’ll be alright. They’re keeping me until they check my x-ray, I may have a broken rib, but it’s likely just a bruise.” Jalen says nonchalant, trying to ease the worry he knew Nick was feeling.

Nick nodded, sighing, as he looked around the room. “Where is everyone? Your parents? Jade? There’s no one in the waiting area beside my brothers.”

“Oh, they left not long before you came. They went to grab dinner, the food here is ass.” Jalen gags, and Nick smiles. “Jade’s phone died too, so they’re picking up her charger. You know she’s got that 15. ‘Oh I can only use a C charger’ head ass.” Jalen says, mocking his little sister, and they both laugh. That was one thing Nick loved about Jalen, no matter what was happening, he always had a positive spirit, something he hoped to learn from him.

“I’m so glad you’re okay. I don’t know what I would do without you.” Nick confessed, as he leans over to hug Jalen again, a lot gentler this time.

“Stop worrying, baby, I’m fine. I’ll be out of here soon, and everything can go back to normal.” Jalen reassures him as he caresses his back.

“I love you so much” Nick mumbles into Jalen’s chest, as he exhales all the worry and anxiety he had. The feeling of being in Jalen’s arms again was all the comfort that he needed.

Jalen kissed his loving boyfriend head sweetly, “I love you too, peach.”

[douxkise]

This short piece of Mammon fluff is a gift for @anonymouse-is-here and although she has seen it already, I thought it would be nice to share it with everyone too. No Mammon content is ever too much Mammon content, right? 🌹

Note: MY ENGLISH IS CURRENTLY RUSTY, GIVE ME A BREAK

The greatest winter with the Great Mammon

Mammon was cold. That's it. So cold he could barely move. He felt a wave of cramps coming all the way to his toes and couldn't help but shiver. The demon took in his surroundings and everything he saw was the white, thick snow that extended for miles and piled up to his thighs and only added to his already freezing body.

He cried out for help and there was no answer. Of course no one would come to his rescue; he didn't even remember how he got there in the first place.

Mammon managed to take a couple of steps before his body gave up, sending him straight to the snow. Oh God, he was going to die for good this time. The freezing cold caught up to him in an instant and he felt himself getting sleepy. Weird, huh? Suddenly, the gelid snow on his cheek didn't bother him so much anymore.

"HELL NAH!" he yelled, sitting up and throwing all the pillows on the floor while trying to regain consciousness.

His eyes darted around in a haste, scared he would end up as a giant ice cube in the middle of nowhere. It was only a nightmare, thank Diavolo. He exhaled and saw his breath in the air. Oh... So that's why it hurt to breathe. His own room was cold as hell.

Only then he remembered something. Mammon turned to your side of the bed and, just as he thought, it was empty and the blanket was gone as well. Although the sheets were already cold, your scent still lingered, engraved in his mind and invading his nose. He missed you already, why did you have to disappear like that?!

"It's too early to be stealing Mammon's blanket, ___...." Rubbing his eyes, the white haired demon got up and decided to look for you; there was no way he was going back to sleep without you on his side.

It took Mammon a couple of minutes to notice the silence at Serenity Manor; the sun had barely risen, after all, no sane demon should be awake, but there he was. He walked all the way through the mansion and hadn't heard anything from any of his brothers — or you, for that matter — which led him to start getting a tad bit antsy.

The common room remained the same, though, its gigantic windows hiding nothing from the outside and, as he expected, the backyard was covered in snow. He took in the scenery before him; the chilly atmosphere wasn't enough to hurt him the way it did in his dream and the snow-covered trees were kind of pretty, he admitted. Mammon almost felt peace at the moment. That is, until he saw you.

There you were, standing outside in the snow. What were you thinking? Getting out of the mansion — without winter boots, nonetheless —, were you trying to freeze to death?!

"Oi! Ya ain't gettin' sick on my watch! Get back inside, ____!" He called through the door that led to the yard, waving frantically to get your attention.

You turned around with a smile that never failed to melt his heart. That childlike glint in your eyes that he only ever saw whenever the first snow of December started falling. You beckoned to him and, certainly, watched as he took a deep breath before facing the snow.

"It's snowing, Mammon! It's officially winter!" You told him, opening your arms in an obvious invitation for a hug.

"Tsk, talk about being childish," he grumbled, wrapping his arms around your waist in a bear hug.

You two just stayed this way, your bodies rocking slowly from side to side while you admired the beautiful winter scenery.

"Hey... You know what?" You pulled away just enough to look into his blue eyes. "Thank you for being with me, Mammon. I'm really glad we're spending winter in the human realm this year."

"Of course, the Great Mammon will always be here for ya, babe." You could hear the embarrassment in each of his words even though he tried to hide the deep blush on his face with an overconfident demeanor.

After a few moments, the winter breeze started to be too much for you. You couldn't help but shiver a bit, and it didn't go unnoticed by him; he scoffed and took both your bare hands in his. To say your skin was cold was an understatement. Honestly, he was expecting it already, you did this every year and it never got old; the first time was during the Devildom winter. However, this year he was braver, bolder even, and decided to be a gentleman and kiss your hands.

Mammon started by kissing your fingers, one by one, pretending he hadn't seen the pinkish tint on your cheeks.

"Mammon... What are you-"

"Don't speak," his voice went low in a soft command, although it sounded almost like a plea. Oh, to be that confident all the time... His life would have been so much easier.

The sudden change in the atmosphere caught you off guard; you weren't expecting him to get affectionate out of the blue, neither were you ready for it this early in the morning. You kept watching him as he kissed every inch of your hand, until he got to kiss your palm. You pulled both hands back abruptly and now it was Mammon's turn to be surprised. He stared at your flushed face and smirked to what could only mean one thing: he found out you were ticklish.

"Oh... That's good to know." His smirk only grew as well as his confidence.

"Don't you dare, Mammon." You warned with a mischievous smirk matching his, already backing away from him when he started following you.

And just like that, you were play fighting in the snow. Mammon had that familiar hungry look in his eyes, his laugh echoing through all of the backyard of the mansion as he tried to tickle you over and over. Truth be told, you had no chance against him to begin with. You only got away with running from him for as long as he allowed, but even so you ended up tripping and falling on your stomach.

"Looks like the Great Mammon won again, huh?" He chuckled as he turned you around and trapped you underneath his body.

"You're ridiculous." There was your smile again, making his heart speed up without his consent. Your entire face held the expression of pure happiness while you stared fondly at him.

As you two laid down on the snow, you noticed just how beautiful this demon was. You already knew it, of course, but it was always a welcome surprise when you got to be so close to him as you were. His eyes as deep as the most beautiful starry night, his lips just as inviting; you started to think Mammon could have been sculpted by God himself and the laugh that followed was inevitable. How could you forget that God himself took his time to create an ethereal being such as the Great Mammon?

He didn't even have the time to ask what you were laughing at when he felt your cold hands pulling his face down until your lips barely brushed against his. Mammon's hand trembled in anticipation, his fingers making their way to your hair as he made sure to remember every tiny detail of you in that moment.

"Hey! Get away from them!" Asmodeus' loud voice echoed through the backyard and both you and Mammon jumped out of your skins, unable to move fast enough to even start thinking of a believable excuse for the position you were in.

You dreaded looking in the avatar of Lust's direction and you weren't actually surprised to see all of the brothers' enraged expressions glaring at Mammon.

"Here we come, I guess, Mammon," you sighed as he helped you up with the biggest blush you had ever seen.

"Gimme a break! I ain't doin' anything!" It was the only thing he managed to yell back; you knew too well he was, indeed, doing something.

"Stop this buffoonery at once and come to the dining room. Breakfast is ready." Lucifer announced and left the rest of the brothers to follow after him.

"They will never let you live this down." You chuckled, patting the remaining snow off your clothes.

"Hah?! What if they don't? Joke's on 'em, you belong to me!" Mammon answered with a new wave of confidence.

"That's right, Mammon. I'm yours."

In a bold move, you grabbed him by the shoulders and filled his entire face with loving pecks. No space was left forgotten; you kissed his cheeks, his nose, his eyes, the eyebrows as well, his forehead and ended with a peck on his lips. You watched him squirm under your touch and laughed again; how could the avatar of Greed himself be so unbelievably cute? You loved him so much.

"Now let's go have some breakfast, Mammon," You called, not waiting for him to make up his mind. You took his hand in yours and pulled Mammon inside, excited to finally spend with him what promised to be the best winter holiday so far.

[katerinaaqu]

Hello! This may seem like generic ask but I have questions about Greek Gods since your discussion about Greek mythology enlightened me a lot about both the myths and culture of the greeks that most of the internet sources doesn't cover properly, so I specifically want to know about the relationship between Poseidon and Athena.

Like do they really hated each other? The one I know where there was anger and animosity between the two was the contest for Athens, but thing is Poseidon have a lot of contest for patronage of Greek cities with other Gods as well, even his sister Hera. And all of this was contests, of course there will be resentment if you lose. Then, there was another myth that said Poseidon tried to convince Hephaestus to marry Athena because he hate her, and all the passages that I found about those myths was only talking about Hephaestus attempt for Athena, there was no line about Poseidon involvement. The same could be said about the myth where Aphrodite and Ares was caught in Hephaestus net, where people said Poseidon convinced Hephaestus to released them because he wanted Aphrodite to be indebt with him so that they could you know, do the 'thing', but again, I found no line that said that?

Then there was also an obscure myth I found online where it was said that Athena was actually Poseidon's daughter..? But because she hate him, she asked Zeus to be her father and Zeus being the King, complied her wish.

Either I'm not very good at looking for sources or this was just interpretations.

Then again, from what I gathered, like Wikipedia said that in Athens, Poseidon was the second God in importance second only to Athena, which again, not strange because all the Gods are worshipped together even if the cities have one patron God. Besides that, Poseidon have two myths that I know where he work together with Athena like in the iliad where they both on the side of the Greeks, the one I remember vividly was when both Poseidon and Athena swoop down to help Achilles when he was pushed away by the river Scamander, by both gripping each of his arms to pull him up and give him courage. Like, that's a good teamwork right there. Also the ones where they stage a coup against Zeus, see here they also worked together. Of course, there was no problem if there was dislike between the two, it doesn't hindered them being worshipped together and have myths where they work together. They were family after all.

I know in most myths, Gods quarrelled a lot with each other and it have to do with symbolism and explanation for natural phenomenon in that time. It just the way Poseidon and Athena was talked about, it was always sounds like they so despised each other and can't even be in the same room.

Anyway, thanks for answering and I'm sorry if I sound ignorant!

For starters oh goodness Anon you are very kind and I am really touched that you find my stuff useful! It really means a lot! And of course you must never call your question "generic". There is no such thing as "generic" in the interpretation of the past!

Now in regards to the gods; all Gods have likes and dislikes loves passions and rivalries because they are as human as humans themselves can be.

Now in regards to the events with Hephaestus it seems that our mythographer is connecting this with the beef of Poseidon with Athena for their rivalry over the city of Athens, you can see my answer to another ask about it:

So yeah in regards to that incident it seems it was Poseidon being bitter about losing Athens. Which again belongs to the realm of the gods acting like humans and have human weaknesses and human likes and dislikes. And the version of Poseidon being behind the attempt of rape of Athena seems to be given by Hyginus as I said above

But at the same time that doesn't mean that the gods have eternal rivalries. For example they are not having specific roles to like or dislike each other exclusively unless it is something about the symbolism of the lore (for example Ares being by n large a hated god even among his peers is basically how Greeks thought the idea of war is something to be hated in the first place but still necessary and with its own reason to society, thus the fact that Ares is no minor god but an actual god of the Olympian pantheon.

So Athena and Poseidon still appear to work together or have common goals which they try to see through. In one way it definitely seems to link them to their roles as protector of heroes (Athena) and of royalty and status (Poseidon) so in one way both of these ends of the spectrum are connected together. So of course Athena and Poseidon appear to work together.

As for Poseidon's contribution to the dispute between Aphrodite and her husband the most ancient source comes, ironically, from the Odyssey. In the 8th rhapsody of the Odyssey it speaks on how the singer Demodocus starts singing on the love of Ares and Aphrodite and at lyrics 344-345 it says:

But Poseidon did not laugh but he kept insisting for Hephaestus the great craftsman to set Ares free

(Translation by me)

Their rivalry is of course set more to the claim of Athens, which of course seems to be a set of myths that wish to show how important of a city Athens is both strategically and culturally thus having two major gods (an actual son of Kronos and the first and arguably most powerful child of the strongest god of Olympus) and eventually they get co-worshipped because even if Athena is still the patron goddess, Athens has deep roots which they speak on their indigenous nature (an interpretation of the myth of Ericthonius that I mention to the link I provided) thus the importance of both Athena as protector of heroes who were important for Athens but also Poseidon as a protector of the noble lines. What is more Athens is also a potent naval power thus once again the co-association with Poseidon being essential.

In here Poseidon takes the more mature role. All other gods laugh and speak on how they would want to be in Ares's shoes and be tied up with Aphrodite so but Poseidon acts like older and more mature than the rest of them telling to Hephaestus to release them. In a way he speaks as an authority there

In one way that has a multiple meaning in Homer given how not only the presence of Poseidon is always hovering over the heads of everyone in general and Odysseus in particular but also serves as an allegory of the war since Demodocus is about to sing also on the Trojan war, which shall bring Odysseus to tears and he will confess who he is to his listeners. The war started off as an act of love or at least seduction (Aphrodite) and ended up in a bloodshed (Ares) and both were released by a craftsman (Hephaestus) which also connects him to Odysseus himself given how Hephaestus and Odysseus share the same epithet "of many wiles)

As for the version claiming that for some reason Athena being the daughter of Poseidon I believe you are referring to one version of Pausanias in his "Descriptions of Greece" where he mentions Athena as daughter of Poseidon because she has blue eyes unless I am mistaken.

I hope this answers part of your question! Forgive me if I missed some of your asks and I will be happy to elaborate further and please never EVER call yourself ignorant for making good questions! You made me look through plenty of sources to answer you and that is awesome! Please do not be discouraged to ask! And forgive me for being late!

[man-i-love-fanfiction]

To Share the Space with Simple Living Things - Hozier x Fem! Florist!Reader

Chapter Four: Poppies - Imagination

Summary: You finally get to visit Andrew at his workplace, and he discovers a not-so-new way to handle his feelings.

Word Count: 2711

Author's note: Hope you're all enjoying! Sorry again for having such a splotchy posting schedule, between holidays and getting the flu I was... preoccupied. Anyways, have a chapter of your favorite tattoo artist yearning his heart out as compensation 🖤

tag list: @celery-grace @gayandfairycore @deathmybride @harry-bowie-mercury @hodgepodge-musings @blue-eyed-bug @secretttytttttttttt @dinner-n-dxatribes @padfootblackswh0r3

fic below the cut <3

It had been three days since you had gotten coffee with him, and all Andrew could think about was you. It was getting a little concerning. Concerning to him, at least. He was a grown man, who was he to have — for lack of a better word — a crush? Let alone one he was too embarrassed to express his feelings for?

It was close to torture, but he had no right to complain. He had brought this upon himself, and he accepted it. He asked a woman, particularly one he thought was beautiful, to get coffee with him, paid for her, and still ended the whole affair with their relationship being at most friends and at the very least acquaintances. Stupid idea, and the definition of a missed opportunity. Alex had already berated him over this decision (“What do you mean you bought her coffee, just the two of you, and you didn’t even attempt to drop a hint that you like her?”). And it’s not like he didn’t torture himself over it, thoughts randomly popping up telling him what he could’ve or should’ve said or done. The regrets he had, no matter how minuscule they were, ate away at him when he had nothing else to think about. All because of a choice he made and a label he refused to give. What a way to self-sabotage.

Everything about you, from how you met to how easily your conversations flowed, was magnetic, pulling his thoughts (and him) towards you. The serendipity of it all was like he had been transported into one of those overly saccharine romantic comedy movies he would sometimes catch his mother watching. What was the term she had used once? A meet-cute?

The slight vibration of his phone in his pocket brought him back to his reality. A call from an unknown number. Usually, he would hang up, or at least ignore it. But he was in between clients, and more importantly, a little bored. So he answered.

“Hello?”

“Hi. It’s Y/N. From the florist.” Andrew let out a sigh of relief at the sound of your voice. “That end of the world you were warning me about last time never happened, so I had enough time to finish your bouquet.”

He chuckled at that, a lighter sound than he intended.

“That’s fantastic. Both the world not ending and the bouquet being ready.”

“Is it alright if I swing by soon?

“Yeah. I’m on my lunch break in between clients, so I’m free.”

“Perfect. See you in…” you paused, which he surmised was you mentally calculating how long it would take you to get there before continuing, “about fifteen minutes.”

“I’ll be waiting for you.”

He grimaced as you hung up the phone, and true to his word, he waited. His time was occupied with sketching a design for an appointment he had in a few weeks, Alex hanging around with him. Immediately, everything was put down when you walked in. Fifteen minutes later, just like you had told him, he heard the bell above the door ring. He watched as you opened the door, tightly gripping a vase containing the flowers, letting in a beam of sunlight with your entrance.

“I’ve got one order of a chrysanthemum arrangement for Andrew?” You announced, feigning not knowing who he was.

“Great, you're here. Let me take that off your hands.”

He rushed over and grabbed the bouquet from you, and in a moment he had to remember to thank the gods for later, his fingers brushed yours, making his heart rate spike so suddenly he almost had a medical issue.

God, he was pathetic.

“Thank you so much for this. You never fail to amaze me.”

“Of course. You can keep the vase, by the way. Free of charge.”

He looked down at you, his brows furrowed but a smile still on his face.

“You are physically incapable of not being nice to me, huh?”

“Please. I do this for all of my orders. You're not special,” you joked, and he scoffed in reply.

“Wow… and I thought we were friends!”

“I’m just humbling you a little. Besides, I can't let other customers think I have favorites. It's unprofessional.”

“Favorites? Plural? Do I have competition?”

“Yes. It's you and a little old lady that orders centerpieces for her dinner parties. Don't go beating her up for the top spot.”

A beat passed before a mischievous smirk came across your face.

“Though, I am a fan of a guy that would fight in my honor.”

Not being able to sense your tone, Andrew swiftly changed the topic, unsure and unwilling to think about how he'd throw a punch for you.

“So, you used flower language for this, right? What's it all mean?”

You smiled, and the way your face lit up gave him a rush, a sudden burst of butterflies in his stomach. He listened intently, despite his urges to focus on you and not the words you were saying.

“Alright, I’ll give you a quick rundown of the meanings. Chrysanthemums are joy, of course. There are some sunflowers, specifically dwarf sunflowers, because they represent pride, like how you’re proud of your work, hopefully. Orange roses for fascination. And last but not least, calla lilies for magnificence and beauty, like what you create here. Hopefully you and your colleagues like it.”

He couldn't help the incredulous laugh that cane at the end of your statement.

“Are you kidding me? It's beautiful. Of course I like it,” he reassured. You didn't verbally reply, but the new warmness of your features was all the response he needed.

He paid, making a comment along the way about how he almost left his wallet at home this morning, but caught himself: “I promise I’m not forgetful, just… all over the place.” You listened, seemingly actually invested, and took the money from him once he offered.

“Thank you. You are single-handedly keeping my small business afloat.”

He raised an eyebrow at that, both out of confusion and concern.

“Are you not doing well?”

“I mean, we're making sales, meeting the quotas we should be. Barely. But we're not exactly a hotspot anymore. It's not common for people to get flowers, and if they do they get cheap bouquets cheaply made at a grocery store or online. People these days don't bother to make an effort.”

He observed you as you thought for a moment, a pause only he could have read into. He could’ve sworn you looked him up and down, though his hopeful imagination could have tricked him. There was more optimism in your tone this time around.

“You do, though. Make an effort, I mean. I appreciate it. You might be the only guy I know that does.”

Your words were taken to heart, but he deflected your compliment, fearing he'd become too flustered if he let it linger.

“Is the bar truly that low?”

“That's not low! These days, finding a guy who tries is like winning the lottery.”

You barely gave him time to react before pulling out your phone, which had just vibrated in your pocket.He could already see the disappointment set into your features.

“Crap. I have to get back.”

He offered an understanding nod, knowing as much as he wished he could stay in this moment, reality had to set back in.

“I hate to say goodbye, but it was really nice to see you. And your place of work. Keep me posted on if the flowers help raise people’s spirits.”

“Goodbye. Parting is such sweet sorrow.”

“Quoting The Bard at me? So you’re an artist and a nerd. Full of surprises, aren’t you?”

“I am. There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

“Oh, I’m sure I’ll find out more soon enough. I’ll see you later.”

“Goodbye.”

The door closed behind you, leaving Andrew feeling a bit emptier now that you were no longer there. Finding the right time, Alex made his presence known again. Andrew was so focused on you he had almost forgotten he was in the room.

“So… that's the Y/N you keep talking about?”

“That's her.”

“The one you platonically took to a coffee shop?”

“The very same.”

Alex gave him a look: a squint accompanied by an oddly pensive expression, like he was trying to make the situation make sense.

“Is something the matter? Do… do you not approve?” Andrew asked. Alex replied slowly, cautiously.

“No, she seems wonderful. No complaints here. In fact, that’s the issue.”

“How so?"

“Maybe because you took a woman, an amazing one at that, on an outing that was a date in every aspect but its name. You essentially blocked yourself off from you two being romantic. It doesn’t make sense to me! How are you the same lad that would write love songs in college?”

“That was a decade ago! I’m more cautious now.”

“Oh, yeah. You're so cautious, in fact, that you started liking your florist. A woman that you've only met four times, including one time where you basically went on a date!”

Andrew felt a shame as if he had just been yelled at by a parent, though most of the sting came from the truth of his words. Only after he exhaled a deep sigh did Alex speak again.

“Listen, I don't mean to scold you. I’m only saying all this because I care about you. That being said, if you don't take this girl out sometime soon…”

“Alex!”

“I’m being serious! I was standing right there. I saw how you look at her and you're… enamored of the poor woman. If you don't do something about the way you feel— doesn't have to be soon, just eventually— then the only person that will regret it is you.”

Andrew gave a slow nod as he processed the other man's words. He hated how wise he could be sometimes.

“I… I need to find the right moment. I need to take my time.”

“Then take it. Just don't bottle up your emotions for too long. You don't handle it well. Plus, after a while of you blabbering on about the same person, it starts to get annoying.”

For the first time since you left, Andrew laughed, Alex joining in a moment afterwards.

“Alright,” he said, slapping a hand on Andrew's shoulder. “Let's get back to work.”

Andrew ruminated on his friend’s words on the drive home, his grip tightening on the wheel. As much as he hated to admit it, Alex was right; he did need to do something about what he felt for you. But he never did specify what.

It had been a while since he felt like this towards someone, so he wasn't lying when he said he needed to take his time. If he were to ever make a move on you, he would have to make sure he was certain. He didn't want to ruin your newly-labeled friendship, run the risk of throwing away something just starting, and something good. However, that didn’t mean he couldn’t use an alternative method to handle these feelings.

He stepped into his flat, and for the first time in recent memory it felt… empty. Not necessarily from the absence of friends or family, just absence. The empty seats at his table, on his couch, in his bed, they almost screamed at him. He had never realized that the silence of being alone was so deafening.

What better way to fill the silence than with music?

He got straight to work, his craving to create overriding any hunger for actual food he had. Despite his own better judgement, Andrew had written down the lyric he had absentmindedly created a few days ago in his phone. He considered continuing from there, but preferred to do things the old-fashioned way. So he grabbed a pen, sat down at his kitchen table, opened his notebook, and began to write.

I have never known peace like the damp grass that yields to me…

He hadn’t opened himself up to this creative vulnerability in so long, so he was admittedly a little rusty. Words were crossed out, rearranged, and substituted with synonyms if the amount of syllables didn’t fit the rhythm. Eventually, after he had eased into it, it felt no different from when he sketched a stencil or tattooed a client. Oddly enough, the more he wrote and the more effort he put in, the more the lines continued to blur until he felt just as comfortable as he did at his job. Whether it be a tattoo gun or a ballpoint pen, Andrew was always in his element when he had ink.

There was also the added factor of what inspired all of this fervor to write: you. You kickstarted something in his brain, subconsciously flipping a switch. that made him more musical. Before you he would turn on the radio or shuffle his Spotify and merely admire whatever song was playing, but after you came into his life, his thoughts strayed more towards you: I could write something like this. About her.

Should he consider you his muse? He’d decide later on.

Time slipped away from him, to the point that he was shocked to look at the clock and find less than an hour had passed.

One last similarity between the two was discovered. He harbored a similar sense of pride after he had finished— or, more accurately, stopped himself after writing a verse and a chorus. Not a finished verse and chorus either, simply a rough draft to remind him how to get back into the mindset.

The only difference was the audience, or lack thereof. There was no way Andrew was letting anyone see this or even know about it. He would maybe, maybe, consider showing you one day. Even then, he could only imagine he’d want to shrivel up in a corner as you read it, or God forbid, as he sang it to you. He couldn’t dare to think about that now, even though the guitar resting against the wall in his bedroom was almost calling his name. He had to leave it there for now. He could barely handle writing for the day, let alone singing and playing. For now, he was taking baby steps.

Even if he could muster up the courage, there was no chance anything he wrote would be leaving the eyes of his friends and family. He was no poet, and no star. He already had a job that let him express himself and make meaningful pieces of art. For that, he was grateful. He could be happy with keeping the songs for himself, writing for only his own eyes, and letting what he created at his job be for the whole world.

The notebook — funny how such a small object now held a power over him — was closed and stuffed in an empty shelf space in his closet, an attempt at keeping it out of sight and out of mind. His attempt was semi-successful considering every step of the rest of his day was accompanied by the thought of it. Not the shame, just the knowledge of knowing he had written something. The shock of actually having the strength. It stuck with him until he went to bed that night, not even nearing sleep being able to offer him solace. He tossed and turned well into nightfall, until it got to the point that he was getting restless. And desperate. So he picked up his phone. To avoid simply doomscrolling until his eyes began to flutter, he found some website that detailed flower language and started to read.

He willingly went down a rabbit hole, keeping a separate tab open to search for flora he didn't recognize by name. He made mental notes of meanings he found particularly interesting. The last flower he read of before falling asleep was the poppy. It meant eternal slumber, coincidentally what he was longing for at the moment, but also imagination. It was almost perfect how poppies represented the day he had. This was his last coherent thought before he drifted off.

There was a third definition, one that also summarized his day, that Andrew’s eyes didn't stay open to read.

Oblivion.

[treefory]

An offer you can’t turn down?

A 1,018 word fic that’s 95% monologue and 5% dialogue. I won’t let Capo and Hector have a break lol.

He found himself staring off the edge of the cliff of grove cove. Pink waters flowed in paths around the islands and dipped into tall waterfalls that led to the ocean below. The sounds of the crashing water almost completely drowned out the sounds of the bizzyboys playing volleyball behind him.

He pulled a cigarette from his pocket and with a few tries with his lighter, he had it lit in his mouth. The salty air drifted the smoke away after every draw. He always appreciated every bit of down time while he was on the clock.

Things are different now. Almost a month ago, the world almost ended. Inspekta fell from godhood and became human again. Everything seemed to change in one day.

“Heya capo!” A familiar voice called from behind- no, Nostalgic was a better word instead of familiar.

Capochin turned to face Inspek- wrong name, he turned to face Hector. His voice was different compared to when he was a god. It was older but still sounded the exact same when he ascended 33 years ago. Like hearing an old song from your childhood that brought back so many memories.

He still looked the same too. His dark blue curly hair that fell over his shoulders, A red and yellow sweater that was tucked into his pants, And A black button nose below his big red glasses. Other than some new wrinkles that decorated his face he looked the exact same way he did the day he became a god.

…The day he became Inspekta

“Yeah?” Capochin replied gruffly. It was so weird having Hector back. He wasn’t used to his boss being able to just walk up to him. A part of him missed the days where he chose when to see him.

“We’re all a getin shaboingboings.” Hector gestured over a nearby hotdog stand. But the way he said it was off. It was a command- an order- a demand. Not a question, but a fact.

A month ago, Capochin would have never batted an eye to his words. A devoted follower of the “one and only god” would never question his leader. He did whatever he said like how he was meant to. Workers answer to the boss and do as they’re told.

He has been there since day one. His first follower to bow to his feet. To hang on his every word. To be the god he prayed to when he felt his lowest and the god he thanked when he felt his highest. 33 years of pure loyalty to his eldest friend.

The way he cooked for him his favorite meal, burgers with tomato, lettuce, pickles, and steak. The meat was personal. A perfect representation of him giving himself up for his god. And he did it every day for him.

He’d watch inspekta take the first bite, and swoon when the flavor hit his tongue. His heart would skip a beat just by the look on his face.

He loves it

He loves me

He’d go to the end of the earth for his god. He’d destroy the world for his god. Rule over everyone with his one and only god. Then will they be equal, Side by side, together

“Nah” Capochin turned away, back to the ocean, and took a breath from his cigarette.

“What?” Hector faltered “but-“

“I’m not going” he deadpanned

All of that was 33 years ago. On his knees begging for something- ANYTHING more than praise. Give him an inch of respect and I’d feel like a yard- no, a mile!

And nothing

For 3 decades, treated like his dog. ‘Capo, deliver this letter!’ “Capo, put up more poy-sters!” “Capo, more burgies!” Capochin didn’t even sound like a name anymore when you toss it around like that.

It’s not even his real name. a name earned through accomplishments, how many letters were there now? Yet a name he clung on to with every fiber of his being. It was his worth

Everything he was worth to inspekta

But he’s gone now.

“But why not?” Hector challenged, his words had a layer of confusion to cover hostility

What? Not used to him saying no?

“Cuz I don’t want too” he said with a shrug

But he did want to. So so badly. A terrible force of habit. He was the god of leadership for a reason. His voice really was like a melody that you couldn’t help but get lost in.

That song was stuck in his head for 33 cobdanm years. This earworm told him to end the world and he danced along to the rhythm. Like a good little dog who only answered to his master

But he was tired of being his bitch

“And I don’t got to, if I don’t want to.” Capochin finished

Hector paused, he knew this ran deeper than not wanting hotdogs. “Capochin…” he held onto his own tail “I’m sorry.”

He didn’t answer

“I know I put yew threw a lot for a long time. And it’s just… I’m so, so sorry for what I did.” He began wringing his tail in his hands “but, fwom human to human, let’s just hang out! Like old times!”

Capochin took a drag “I appreciate the sentiment…” he took the used up cigarette from his mouth and stamped it out on the ground “but I don’t forgive you, and I don’t think I ever will.”

That hurts to admit. Would he really never? Not today at least. Too many raw feelings to stuff down. Jealousy, hatred, stress, admiration… love? There was no way to fit all that junk into a neat box. You Have to wait for it to cook down before it could fit.

“Oh… okay. Sorry for botherin’ yew.” He choked. With his tail still clutched in his hands, he turned and began walking away.

Capochin looked back and yelled “AND PUT YOUR TAIL DOWN! You want even more bandages?!”

“No sir!” Hector dropped his tail as he called back and hastily returned to the bizzyboys.

Even after all those years, he still couldn’t help but care.

[a-bad-case-of-the-stephs]

MY HERO!!!

Srsly tho thank you for your analysis.. idk why but I have seemingly endless energy and thoughts when it comes to reading way too far into like every throwaway line Steph says but whenever I read this comic and look at the riddles my mind just totally blanks. No fucking clue.

That being said your breakdown has definitely sparked some ideas for me!

For the first riddle, maybe it’s my uncharitable read of Arthur’s characer, but I find it unlikely he would admit in front of other criminals that he sees his daughter as something precious to him. He usually puts up a tough front. On the other hand, it’s not like The Riddler isn’t an extremely intelligent man, he could probably read in between the lines even if Arthur never said as much directly. Agreed that the gift is almost certainly Steph. Still thinking on what the ‘theft that gives’ could possibly mean and coming up blank however.

If the gift of Steph keeps ‘taking’ it might be that Arthur saw what was meant to be a ‘gift’, his child, not being a gift and instead taking away from him and inconveniencing him instead, as Spoiler. It’s possible the theft is of Arthur’s freedom?

Agreed that Arthur seems to have have a habit of abusing Steph and threatening to kill her only to do a 180 and profess how supposedly important she is to him once she’s actually dead, or when she’s not around to hear it.

For the second one, I really like your take. The fact that we’re discussing two bugs here is especially interesting/ hard to parse. I definitely agree that one of the bugs is supposed to be Stephanie. What especially interests me is the fact that the Cluemaster stopped leaving clues by the time that Steph first appears on the scene as Spoiler. Most (all?) of his post crisis crimes don’t involve him leaving clues behind. Maybe that’s the transformation?

Three is so interesting 100 percent agreed, no notes.

Judgement Day as a response to Stephanie’s question could be a call to the idea that no one knows? Much like no one can tell their fate until Judgement day occurs (which you’re not really alive for I guess as per the riddle), Nygma is trying to indicate no one but god could know why Arthur did what he did now that he’s ‘dead’, and supposably no one will ever be able to know. Maybe. Ugh, I hate riddles.

On the oxen riddle, the tiger is as effective at violence as the Oxen, if not more, to me the riddle is drawing attention to the idea that someone only sees the aspects of a person which include the things they themselves value in themselves. I don’t know how that applies but figured I’d add that on.

I’m thinking you’re probably dead on with the last one, but I simply would never have put that together on my own so thank you again.

Overall I think you’re right with the idea that The Riddler is probably not trying to answer Stephanie’s questions honestly via riddle format, and that his riddles are likely more of a response to Stephanie’s asking of her questions at all. thats one of the things I’ve been caught up on, assuming the riddlers riddles are a direct and honest response to her questions just because he seems to agrees to answer her. Honestly, that’s on me for expecting only one layer of abstraction from the guy who goes by The Riddler.

Anyways thank you for throwing your awesome interpretations into the ring so I didn’t have to try to figure these out myself. I’m not good enough at riddles for that. I’m not good at riddles at all.

I'm gonna have a go at the riddles which The Riddler throws at Stephanie Brown in Robin (1993) #113. @a-bad-case-of-the-stephs I'm hoping you can help me out, haven't actually read Robin in well over a year.

It's a gift that keeps on taking. It's a theft that keeps on giving. Having a child is the "gift" and when Arthur was imprisoned or estranged, his child was "stolen" from him. When Stephanie came into Arthur's life, he saw her as a "white elephant", but when he no longer had her, he became driven by the idea of her.

One bug is wrapped in a web, therein to die. Another bug is wrapped in its own web, there to be reborn. In a sense, being tangled in a web can be fatal but it can also indicate introspection and growth. Arthur's obsession with leaving clues were often his undoing so will Stephanie preoccupation with her father be her's or will it actually represent reflection and change?

There is a dog in the manger, but it cannot subsist on hay. A manger is a feeder for livestock, typically holding hay; which dogs do not eat. A "dog in a manger" is a person who spitefully refuses to let someone else benefit from (or let go of) something for which he or she has no personal use (dictionary.com). But dogs cannot subsist on hay and the livestock cannot eat with the dog in the manger. If the dog doesn't relent or change, then everyone loses. Stephanie is the dog and her memory of her father is the manger she cannot let go of.

What day of the week has no man ever lived to see? Judgement day. You have to be dead to see it. And they're both very much alive.

The Tiger envies the Oxen but only understands its horns. The Tiger envies the Oxen's power but it only understands power through the language of violence. Steph easily outmatches The Riddler in a fight yet is confused how he still holds all the cards although she attacks him because she only speaks the language of violence.

I am the number you cannot count on your fingers. Edit: he’s saying Steph’s missing the point; you can’t count him on your fingers, he’s not that kind of number.

Would love some input.

[itsafreetrialofdeath]

master tacticians at work

[lunar-wandering]

do y'all think Macaque is falling back into the role that Azure and the others put on him by remaining on the outskirts of the group because he thinks his input/presence is unwanted (and yeah his presence isn't really wanted by MK and the others BUT. something about the fact Macaque is placing himself at the edge of the group, the edge that Azure and the others pushed him to, doesn't really sit well)

[not-brionnnne]

hey has anyone ever considered doing shinjiro smut for after the fade to black but he lays you across his lap, like has anyone ever considered the canon praise kink with him more—shinjiro who scolds you, calls you trouble and tells you to stay close to him like a "good girl", shinjiro who acts tough, pretends to be fed up with you pushing him around (he loves it, but that doesn't mean you're not gonna hear about it), ignoring what he wants, so two can play that game, and you think, god, he's not holding back anymore, he's going to kiss me, finally, we're going to— but no, he settles on his bed and pats his lap and tells you that you need to "take responsibility" for teasing him like that, messing with his feelings — "be a good girl." remember, you started this.

[skitskatdacat63]

Hiii CATIE!!!!! HIII

Im pretty pretty sure people have already asked BUT HOW WAS ATTENDING THE US GP LIVE!!!! WAS???? TELL ME!! DO YOU HAVE PICS??? I know I know im late.

I ALSO HOPE YOU GOT HOME SAFE AND SOUND AND THAT YOU ARE RESTING NOW+!!!(I saw the chaos you went through im deeply sorry for you :( )

ANYWAYS HOW WAS THE RACE? HOW WAS EXPERIENCING STROLLONSO LIVE?????? AND omg did you get pics of drivers??? :00

You must must share pleaseeeeee.wax.poet

OH MY GOD ELLE SORRY THIS IS SO LATE!!! IT WAS VERY COOL!!!!! VERY SURREAL!!!!!! I've taken a week to answer this but uhhhh yes I am in fact home now 🥰 I got home at like 1 am which was cool....

First of all I have to mention this! I was fighting for my life walking thru the Austin airport(from sleep deprivation), and I had my Fernando hat on my backpack, right? Some girl comes up to me and asks if I'm going to the GP, I say yes. SHE GAVE ME A FRIENDSHIP BRACELET, I COULD'VE SOBBED 🥹 It says on it "wtf is a km", I'm still so happy

COTA was the first race I ever watched, so to be actually at that track and watch a race live there was extremely surreal! Very hot though my god 😵‍💫 I think last year it was pretty hot, right? And my brother kept sending me the temp and it was pretty okay, and then of fucking course the temp leaps up to 89-97°(31-36° Celsius btw) right in time for the gp....so that was nice(I say as I burn in the sun like a vampire. But don't worry I didn't even really tan at all 😭 I always wore a hat and a lot of sunscreen. And meanwhile my brother was literally a lobster)

(This is a long post):

So unfortunately I missed the drivers parade because my brother and I were dying on Saturday night and his friends wanted to go first thing in the morning, and we're like "we will go later actually 😊" and missed it entirely 😭😭😭 but his friends took pics of Mclaren and Aston for me!!!!! But unfortunately I havent gotten them still, so I'll have to reblog this later with those! I took a lot of pictures of the cars I took from behind the fence, which I think I've posted some of? Lmk if anyone wants those!! They're very random, I just thought it was very surreal to see the cars flying past, so I took a million.

The coolest part was definitely running on track after the race was over!!! Soooooo surreal, and so I'm only gonna post pics rn from Sunday(bcs pic limit on phone) and also I think everything else kinda pales in comparison(but of course lmk if there's anything you're interested in seeing 🤭)

Okay and did I see any drivers...? ONLY ONE BUT AAAAHHHH I DID SEE LANDO!!! Not even one of my favs but it was soooooo surreal to see him, even from afar. As you can see above, everyone standing on the fences was blocking the view 🙄, but during the podium, I was focusing my camera btwn their legs and got literally one second of Lando 😭 I think its a pretty aesthetic clip, so I gifed it!!

It was so funny, I went to the gp with my brother and friends, so all these older guys yeah. And I was showing this off to them on the ride home, and his one friend was praising me so much for it 😭😭 like: "oh my god!!!! You could put this in an edit !!! This is so sick!!!!"

Oh one other thing!!! I think I've mentioned it before but my god, my favorite f1 podiums are always the ones with confetti, right?? AND THERE WAS CONFETTI AT THIS RACE!!!

LOOK AT HOW PRETTYYYYY!!!! And so anyways, I picked up so much confetti off the ground and now it lives forever in my phone case 🥰🥰🥰 I have no other room for pics on this post(for now) but oh my godddddddddd most of the confetti were just rectangles BUT THERE WAS ALSO ONES SHAPED LIKE TEXAS!!! SO COOL!!!!! And I also picked up a bunch of tire marbles off the ground!!! And a piece of plastic that probably came off some car. It was so funny when all of us were just scrounging off the ground. My bro's one friend somehow found a piece of carbon fiber, and we're all like "how can I kill him in his sleep and steal this from him..." But no the highlight actually of that process was watching my brother sprint to the podium, but stopping and grabbing a bunch of gravel first to shove in his pocket 😭😭😭

The other two days were fun as well, but also a lot of just dying in the heat and drinking a fuckton of red bull, so there's not too much specifically to say! I really liked hearing the cars. I think if you wanna know what's actually going on in a race, watching from home is better, but hearing the cars go by and seeing them is just so fucking sick. It was so funny to see grown men be like "I think I'm going to cry hearing these cars." I was really flexing on them with "uhhh yeah I've already been to a gp already 🙄🙄"

Anyways I ended the day by breaking bank by buying my dad and myself Fernando shirts because he is of course Fernando's biggest fan 🥰🥰 and I bought the most delicious overpriced lemonade, which I only drank half of bcs my brother proceeded to accidentally elbow it out of my hand....

OH WAIT ONE MORE DETAIL LOL. On Friday, my brother and his friend were waiting in line for smth and I was talking to them outside of the barrier. I look down, hmm theres a red cap abandoned on the ground, I pick it up, it is in fact a Ferrari hat. And that is how my brother acquired a $40+ dollar hat for free. Lucky bastard....I was the who found it!

[girlivealwaysbean]

hey god if you've created someone for me can you introduce me to them sooner? i kinda need them now

[firendgold]

If you're still doing the choose violence ask game: 2 (👀), 9, 10, 22 ?

I got such a rush from finally answering the first ask that I'm doing this for as long as people send me questions. So here we go again!

2. a compelling argument for why your fave would never top or bottom

anon, I'm at work. I'm seeing this at work. :'D

Okay, serious face. Albus Dumbledore is probably my fave if I have to choose between him and Harry on this blog. I just have to figure out why he would never...

Bottom. Albus would never, I'm sorry. He won't. He can't. Like, maybe when he was having his whirlwind summer romance with Gellert, he bottomed every single time they fucked because he was so in love and this was his equal and his partner and so what if he was a little rough and distant sometimes in the bedroom, and always wanted to top and tug his hair and hiss out orders? This was The Man The Universe Had Crafted For Him, and he would absolutely bottom for him every time... and then the summer of 1899 ends. And Ariana dies. And Aberforth breaks Albus' nose. And Gellert fucks off to go be a fascist.

And Albus, alone and heartbroken, resolves to never trust someone that completely again, never love someone that same way, and never let anyone get into a position of power over him where they might be able to use his knowledge and talents for ill. That means physically, emotionally, spiritually, psychologically... carnally. So he has sex with plenty of other people, and even falls in love with a few of them, but he is in control at all times. He never bottoms again.

That's all I've got for that one.

9. worst part of canon

So the first answer that came to mind is posted here, but for fairness' sake I'll try to come up with another worst thing. (That's not related to ships, because I'm trying really hard not to be THAT violent on the violence ask game.)

I think... that if That Woman was going to introduce international schools, students and characters in the middle book of the series, she should have done more with them than having them vanish after Goblet of Fire, only to come back for either fake romantic tension and one line of exposition about the Hitler allegory Dark Lord of the Before-Times (Krum, Deathly Hallows) or to be married off to a Weasley for an aesop of It's Not About His Looks Now That They're Jacked Up (Fleur, Half-Blood Prince). I'm not saying Fleur and Viktor HAD to be best buddies forever with Harry, but it is weird that they have this unique bond that no other young students have had with each other in hundreds of years, they even lost one of their fellow champions, Dumbledore gives this very moving speech about remaining connected and not letting darkness and prejudice sever new ties, and then... nothing. No side adventures in France or wherever Durmstrang is, no communication from either side, nothing.

Feels like a huge letdown in hindsight.

10. worst part of fanon

Oh, no. That's not fair. There's just so many.

If I had to consolidate what I currently don't like about the HP fandom/fanon into a few lines, I think I would say that I hate the pureblood/Dark side apologism. I do believe in nuance in characters. I do believe redemption and/or walking different paths is an important theme in Harry Potter, and I think it's fascinating to explore that with any and every character you can think of, even characters I may not personally like. But I really, really hate the way the fandom has taken that and twisted it into this idea that we were sold a lie at the start: that the British magical government was fine the way it was, and so was the society around it; that Dark magic Isn't All That Bad, Really, and there are actually Good and non-prejudiced things about a few rich bitches passing down their knowledge and secrets and slurs for generations within the Family, and keeping the Family "Pure" is cool actually, and none of this has any relation to real life ideas about miscegenation and classism and racism and eugenics, what are you talking about?

It's just so worrying. As a minority, when I see people on tumblr/twitter/AO3 gleefully agreeing that we need to eat the rich and fix society and eradicate all the horrid -isms and -archys ruining all our lives, then watch them turn around and write a 200k epic where Dumbledore was the evil one for locking the Horcrux books away and championing marginalized members of society, Hermione is just uppity for wanting to make necessary changes to the darker parts of magical society that That Woman was literally pointing out for a reason, and Tom Riddle is only bad because he took the good segregationist pureblood ideas and added murder to them... and when that fic gets thousands of comments agreeing with them full stop with no examination of any of that... it makes me anxious, at a minimum. The same thing is happening now with Grindelwald now that he's actually a figure on the screen and not just some dude mentioned a few times in the book series: same apologism, same justification of atrocities, same good-guy-blame-games, same blorbofication even.

On the one hand... fiction doesn't always directly reflect or affect reality. On the other... this unironic pro-pureblood meta is a pervasive concept that has popped up in thousands of fics written by thousands of fanfic writers. It's happened for years, and it keeps happening, and I see very few fans speaking out against it or even acknowledging it as a problem. So that makes me ask myself, who actually is willing and able to examine the injustices of our society and build a better imaginary society through the lens of HP fanfiction, and who's okay with the prejudice in the HP world as long as it's coming from the faves they're attracted to?

22. your favorite part of canon that everyone else ignores

Happily, this is a harder question to answer because I've been finding so many like minds in the past 5 years who go feral over the same 20 HP scenes as I do. ^^ But give me a sec, I'll think of something.

...

Okay. Got it.

In order to answer this question, I have to go back to the first time I, young teenager, avid reader, recent reader of the HP series once book 5 was out, realized that Harry and Dumbledore had a much deeper relationship than just headmaster and student. The thing that made me latch on to them and project like crazy, basically.

It's the scene in Goblet of Fire chapter 36 where Harry has been rescued from Fake Moody and he's in Dumbledore's office with Dumbledore and Sirius. Dumbledore asks Harry to relay everything that happened to him once he touched the Portkey in the maze—and immediately Sirius tries to protect Harry from having to relive it now, so soon after it's happened. And then this scene happens.

Dumbledore stopped talking. He sat down opposite Harry, behind his desk. He was looking at Harry, who avoided his eyes. Dumbledore was going to question him. He was going to make Harry relive everything. “I need to know what happened after you touched the Portkey in the maze, Harry,” said Dumbledore. “We can leave that till morning, can’t we, Dumbledore?” said Sirius harshly. He had put a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Let him have a sleep. Let him rest.” Harry felt a rush of gratitude toward Sirius, but Dumbledore took no notice of Sirius’s words. He leaned forward toward Harry. Very unwillingly, Harry raised his head and looked into those blue eyes. “If I thought I could help you,” Dumbledore said gently, “by putting you into an enchanted sleep and allowing you to postpone the moment when you would have to think about what has happened tonight, I would do it. But I know better. Numbing the pain for a while will make it worse when you finally feel it. You have shown bravery beyond anything I could have expected of you. I ask you to demonstrate your courage one more time. I ask you to tell us what happened.” The phoenix let out one soft, quavering note. It shivered in the air, and Harry felt as though a drop of hot liquid had slipped down his throat into his stomach, warming him, and strengthening him. He took a deep breath and began to tell them. As he spoke, visions of everything that had passed that night seemed to rise before his eyes; he saw the sparkling surface of the potion that had revived Voldemort; he saw the Death Eaters Apparating between the graves around them; he saw Cedric’s body, lying on the ground beside the cup. Once or twice, Sirius made a noise as though about to say something, his hand still tight on Harry’s shoulder, but Dumbledore raised his hand to stop him, and Harry was glad of this, because it was easier to keep going now he had started. It was even a relief; he felt almost as though something poisonous were being extracted from him. It was costing him every bit of determination he had to keep talking, yet he sensed that once he had finished, he would feel better.

This is one of the best scenes in the entire book, the entire series. It completely refutes the fanon Dumbledore who is often cold, cruel, inflexible and unrelenting in his quest for whatever the author wants him to be inflexible and cruel about at the time. It shows that Dumbledore, the real Albus Dumbledore, is one of the few people who understands what Harry needs and is able to provide it to him, even when others who also care for Harry would rather protect him or shield him from what he needs.

Kid me was particularly taken by how gentle Dumbledore is with Harry here. It made me look back and see how in some ways this scene, this closeness, is the culmination of all the times they've met and spoken before.

(You can imagine how painful it was reading Order of the Phoenix right after this.)

But yeah, that's probably one of my favorite scenes that other people ignore or haven't talked about/drawn/written about much. Which is ironic, because the scene right after that where Harry talks about Voldemort taking his blood and Dumbledore's eyes do the triumphant "lol Voldemort just fucked up" gleam is probably one of THE most talked-about scenes in the fandom (even though to this fucking day in 2023 people still don't realize what the gleam meant, when even That Woman has clarified what it meant in INTERVIEWS).

...And for me, safely at the end of the questions, that's all she wrote.