#very few people tolerate him so he's protective of those who do. even if it's mostly just a coworkers situation in the party

[yardsards]

clint mcelroy creating a dnd character: oh yeah, this bad boy can fit so much simple zest for life in him

[dumbseee]

jude being in love with you implies him sending your random pictures of random things with, "saw this and thought of you <3". like the one time he sent you a stray cat following him in the streets and sent it to you with the caption, "i met your cat self earlier today, i named her yournickname <3."

when he’s having an important game and you can’t be there to support him, he makes sure to call you a few hours before training, your voice being the only medicine to his anxiety. before the match, he kisses the beaded bracelet you made for him. he kept calling it his lucky charm and swore to never take it off. (carlo and the boys almost have to tie him to the floor to take it off him, before games.)

jude pays attention to you a lot, when your eyes wander a little bit too long on a book or a piece of clothing, you should know that the item would find it’s way on your bed, the very next day with a cute note attached to it, "for you my love <3 you deserve it." but he’s also very private and protective over you, your relationship is pretty much public and people know who you are to jude, but he refuses to share you with the world. when walking on the streets with many people around, he makes sure to tighten his grip on your hand, walking in front of you protectively.

when asked about his celebrity crush in interview he names you, "umm, i don’t know if you’ve heard about her but she’s amazing and so damn pretty. her name is y/n l/n!" he never miss the opportunity to compliment you. even in sweats and barefaced, he’ll look at you with those pretty brown eyes of his, making you feel so loved and appreciated. jude also do not tolerate any criticism or hate aimed towards you by his "fans". he often took his socials to call out some disrespectful fans who wouldn’t stop harassing you. "don’t call yourself a fan if you can’t accept that i am, in fact, very happy with this woman and as long as i’ll be breathing, i’ll love and protect her."

[1d1195]

Ding - Round 2

Read Ding here | ~6.2 k words

WARNING/spoiler there's a scummy guy in this part that tries to be forceful with our MC to go with him back to his place when she doesn't want to. Nothing will happen and nothing will be described in detail but be kind to your mind and heart ♥, trauma, anxiety, pining, and fluff.

From me: I actually know VERY little about boxing and even less about throwing a punch. I do however feel I'm well-versed in sprinkles so do with that what you will. Some parts of this got a little away from me again. I hope you like it 💕

Summary: Harry and Cupcake are both really busy and haven't seen each other in two months. But when Cupcake gets into trouble, she has no choice but to run into Harry.

Harry learned to fight when he was ten years old. He didn’t have his dad around much to teach him. Mum and Gemma may as well have been pacifists and as such, they weren’t much help when it came to defending himself. Harry watched his little girl friends get teased by boys. The same boys that told him he was weird for liking girls when they had cooties. Even if he didn’t (always) like them like that and was just merely defending them. Mum and Gemma may have been pacifists, but they taught Harry to be a respectful young boy. Especially toward girls.

One too many mouthfuls of sand at recess was enough to make him finally do something about it. He was angry. Angry because the girls didn’t like him because he was a boy (although they tolerated him since he was protecting them). Angry none of the boys in his class wanted to be friends with him because he was being nice to girls filled with cooties. Angry that he didn’t have a dad to teach him how to be a boy’s boy.

For a ten-year-old, he was really angry.

Mum took him to a gym—an introductory class to kickboxing. Just to get some of his anger out in an appropriate manner (and so he wouldn’t be sent to the principal’s office during recess again). Harry took a liking to the punching bag. He cried the first time he used it with the help of an older kid who was helping him learn to punch the right way. The poor teen watching him get so frustrated that his punches and kicks weren’t landing right—even though it was his very first time throwing a punch—saw something in him. Alerted his boss, encouraged Harry, worked with Harry every time he came in. He was a great mentor and even though he left only a couple years after meeting Harry to go to university and all that, Harry was forever grateful.

His first amateur match was at fifteen. Then there were only ten rounds at most, and he won by a landslide in five. By then he met Louis—someone who saw the same thing that teen kid saw in him and offered to be his manager. It wasn’t anything serious at the time. Harry was still in school and only using his time after school to get better at boxing. Louis was only a few years ahead but knew enough to help him be great.

By the time he turned eighteen, he had won three state-titles and people were watching him. At least in a way that those who cared about boxing did. Throughout university he trained and got better and won more and more.

Now Harry was twenty-five. He had to be nearing at least a hundred thousand punches since he was ten—eitherthrowing them at someone or at least in training against the punching bag he loved so much. Maybe more. He couldn’t even begin to think or count how he would figure out that number. Harry’s whole life was training, working, and fighting.

The only joys he had outside of boxing were his car and the sweet little niece that Gemma had kindly brought into his life—but that was only a recent change.

Only one other very recent change had left him a bit tongue-tied and flustered. Harry didn’t get flustered. Not since he was ten and knew he could beat the crap out of someone. There was no ringing bell to prepare him to make eye contact with a complete stranger and just feel like he had never ever felt before.

Was it love? Who could say, really. Harry had never loved anyone in his life that wasn’t his family or his friends. It made his stomach flutter like the first time he fought in a ring for something other than a trophy. A mere two hundred dollars on the line, all to get punched a whole bunch of times. Now he was still getting punched a few times over for a decent amount of money, but the thought of that pretty girl and her sprinkles made him unbelievably excited. Knowing she was there really made him feel different.

He knew next to nothing about her, but he was certain he was going to fall for her given half a chance. Even if she gave him a half a chance—a quarter!—he would do everything he could to have her in his life. If anyone else had damaged his car, he might have lost his shit, but there was something about her kind face, her doe-eyed expression in the rainy lamplight that made him rethink his entire life in the span of twenty seconds.

But whatever it was that he felt for her, he knew it started with her ringside. Beside his best friend waiting for the end of the fight that never seemed to end.

Normally, Harry’s matches finished in an average of nine rounds. But he was seated in the corner, sipping water like a hamster from the bottle, while Louis put Vaseline on his face where the cut on his eyebrow split between the tenth and the eleventh. “How you doing?”

“Is she impressed?” He asked.

“Who?”

“Cupcake. She’s sitting next t’Niall,” he was breathing heavy. Good as he was, it took a lot of energy to punch someone for a half hour as it was.

“Who?” Louis repeated, then thought better of it. He shook his head in frustration. “Can you focus on what you’re doing, Harold?!”

Louis didn’t get it. Harry rolled his eyes and sighed. To be fair, she was probably the reason it was taking longer than normal. Not that he minded. As long as she was impressed by the end, of course. Harry was on his feet, shadowboxing briefly with Louis, that boyish smile on his face. “What the fuck is your issue?” Louis hissed at him. “You’re acting like a lunatic!”

It seemed like a cliché to say he was in love, so he refrained from doing so. He felt it spared Louis further frustration as well. Cupcake, Cupcake, Cupcake. It was the only thing his brain could think. Fortunately, the bell rang, signaling the beginning of the next round and knocked a bit of the sense back in his head that had floated away from him on the thoughts of the pretty girl nearby.

His opponent was just as tired (although Harry believed his opponent was more so) as himself. He could see the exhaustion setting in as he held his gloves up near his face blocking a few jabs Harry threw to get the excitement of the new round going. He was waiting, searching, nearly taunting for a window of opportunity. Right as his opponent swung aiming for his face, Harry dodged his punch; smirking as he did. A blinding weak spot, his guard was down for only a fraction of a second but that was all Harry needed.

Poor guy didn’t stand a chance.

Ding.

*

Harry looked like he was going to fall asleep sitting there in the bakery kitchen. He was a bit cut up; his eyebrow, the corner of his mouth, and his cheekbone had little cuts. Soothed with Vaseline, but it didn’t seem to bother him. His eyes were droopy. “Is Niall still around to drive you home?” She asked.

He shook his head. “I can drive,” he murmured.

He wasn’t really looking at her, but her look and tone screamed skeptical. “You look too tired to drive.”

“Mm,” he hummed. She was busy bustling back and forth through the kitchen. Cupcakes were in the oven. She only made a dozen, but Harry didn’t seem to notice it was a small amount. He was sitting at the big table in the middle of the kitchen. A seat dragged in from the office. She had her laptop open in her office running the report she needed while Harry held his head propped in one hand. She busied herself with prepping dough for scones and pastries while Harry tried not to loll off to sleep. She smirked at him.

“I could call you an Uber if you wanted,” she offered. “You don’t need to stay with me.”

His eyes were hardly open. “I’ll get a second wind in a minute,” he yawned. “S’jus’ the adrenaline wearing off,” he explained.

“Does that hurt?” She asked gesturing to the cuts on his (otherwise really perfect) face.

He shook his head. “Stings a little.”

“Will you be sore tomorrow?”

“A little. Stiff really... Why y’want t’give me a massage, kitten?” He smiled flirtatiously. Maybe she should have felt uncomfortable, alone with a man she only just met. But honestly, she thought Niall might be her new best friend and if Niall could vouch for Harry, then she wasn’t all that worried about him. Regardless of him knocking out his opponent with one punch. Truthfully, it was nice of her to walk her to the bakery. It was later than she expected and while the town they lived in was pretty safe, the college safety tips of never walking alone flooded her mind each time she did walk alone. She blushed at his forward assumption, but fortunately she was prepping something and stuffing it in the fridge, so he didn’t get to see. Plus, his exhaustion probably made him even flirtier.

“Thanks for being m’good luck charm, Cupcake,” he murmured sleepily.

“I didn’t know you didn’t need one.”

“Can never have too much luck.”

She smiled, continuing her prepping quietly. Harry watched her for a while. Eventually, his arm dropped to the table, and he rested his head on it. After another moment, a soft snore escaped his lips, and she smiled a little brighter. Only for herself, really, since Harry was asleep. She continued working. She was used to late nights. Maybe he really was going to get a second wind—honestly, she couldn’t imagine boxing and punching someone for almost forty-five minutes with only one-minute breaks in between rounds. Sometimes while she was baking, she would try to do other tasks while the timer counted down to take the treats out of the oven. It always surprised her how long and how short a minute could feel in the same breath.

But while she worked, she was mindful to not make too many loud noises. Harry needed sleep it seemed. She prepped for nearly an hour while waiting for the cupcakes to cool long enough to scoop out the middle and fed the sugary raspberry filling into the empty space. Frosting a dozen cupcakes took all but ten minutes then she packaged them in two half-dozen plastic containers with A Pinch of Sprinkles label taping it shut. Gently, she put her hand on his upper arm, and she really shouldn’t have been so surprised by how taut his bicep was beneath her hand, but she was. He was unbelievably strong, and she was in slight awe and shock of touching him—and he wasn’t even flexing. But rather than be creepy, she gave him a gentle shake. “Hey, Harry... Uh...it’s late. I’m gonna get going,” her voice was soft.

Harry startled almost jumping out of his seat and rubbing his eyes with the heels of his palms. “Sorry, sorry. Wow,” he turned his neck to the left and then right. “M’sorry I dozed off there.”

She shrugged. “Probably needed it,” she assured him with a gentle smile. She pushed the dozen cupcakes forward, across the table. “For you.”

He blinked then looked up at her. “Did you make these for—”

“Well, yes, I made them. You were unbelievably kind to me even though I dented Clay. Plus, you won so it’s like a job well done, you know?”

“You made me cupcakes,” he repeated, his gaze unmoving from her face.

“We really need to work out this whole repeating what the other one says thing,” she felt her cheeks warm as he stared at her, but she smiled, only feeling slightly awkward.

He turned his attention to the two plastic boxes and tilted his head at them. They were identical. His fascination with her precision was immense. “What kind are they?”

“The raspberry filled ones. You said you liked them.”

His gaze went right back to her, and he felt hungry, but not for cupcakes.

Well, at least not the baked good kind of cupcake.

“Thank you, Cupcake. That was sweet of you. I hope it wasn’t too much trouble.”

Her smile seemed to transcend to a feeling of relief. “Not even a little...um... I just have to grab a couple things. Would you... mind walking me to my car? Unless you need to leave right now. I know it’s crazy late. I’ll be okay. I walk to my car on my own usually but it’s always a little creepy. But I feel bad I made you—”

“’Course m’gonna walk you t’your car,” he rolled his eyes. “Besides I don’t want you t’ding Clay again,” he winked to ensure she knew he was kidding. Because yes, he loved his car.

But rapidly, when it came to her, the car didn’t matter in the slightest.

*

She hadn’t seen Harry in two months.

It wasn’t like she was avoiding him. Part of her knew he was a mere social media friend request away. In fact, she was trying her hardest to not stare at the pictures of him on social media, the PR plug for his matches, and all the things that she saw Niall, Louis, and all his other friends shared. But she didn’t want to come off too forward. It seemed weird to be so into a man she only talked to for no longer than ten minutes total.

Besides...she had her routines. Work, family, and more work.

Also, if Harry was really infatuated with her the way Niall alluded to, he knew where her bakery was—he easily could come and find her here. But she did notice there was a tag to her shop on Instagram with raspberry filled cupcakes in the picture. (All it would take is for her to press the Follow button and wait.) While she didn’t know Harry all that well, she assumed he was probably just as busy. Her brief cyber-stalking showed that Harry was often at the gym—although she wasn’t sure which one. He was also an amazing uncle. That much was clear. It warmed her heart, and she would never want to tear Harry away from that kind of time. Family was extremely important to her. She wholeheartedly understood how much his free time was probably monopolized by the little baby.

But it was so strange that she didn’t know him yet there was some part of her that wanted to see him. It was bizarre. She never got all up and arms about a guy. There was work and there was her family. That was it. That was all she could afford to balance. She didn’t need a guy to mess with her routines or upset the balance of her life.

However, every time she walked alone to her car at night now, she wished that Harry was with her to assure her safety—even though she had done it hundreds of times before. The night they met, he walked her in silence, opened her door and made sure she was safely tucked inside. “Good night, Cupcake,” he smiled almost dreamily.

“Good night, Harry. Congratulations,” she responded with a smile too.

Harry’s smile grew and he looked away briefly before patted the top of her car and turned to Clay, put his cupcakes on the passenger seat and moved to the driver’s side. He gave her a wave and pulled out of his parking spot.

It was two months ago.

But after just one month, it was hard to deny she didn’t miss him.

That had to mean something. Just one brief night—not even a date. Most of that night was spent with Harry in the ring or asleep at her kitchen table. Hell, she got to know Niall more that night. But it was Harry’s smile that plagued her thought—crooked and perfect. The way his eyes glittered as he convinced her to follow him with a picture of his niece.

“Are you baking something in here or burning in here?” Maeve asked.

Maeve was her best employee—her right hand nearly every day. More importantly, her best friend. Shaking her head of the thoughts surrounding Harry, she sighed and turned to the oven where her fudge brownies were surely overdone. “Shit,” she whispered.

“I don’t think you’ve ever burned anything. Are you okay?” Maeve asked gently. It was a loaded question. It took a lot of time to dig the answer out of her friend, but Maeve did. She knew asking if she was okay was probably the wrong thing to say.

But if it was, she didn’t mind. Of course she didn’t. Her very best friend was sweeter than all the treats in the display case. “Just a little distracted,” she mumbled grabbing the tray and setting it in the sink to cool off (and hopefully so she didn’t have to scrape the bottom of the tray later).

“Harry on your brain?” Maeve giggled.

She rolled her eyes but felt the way her cheeks warmed at Maeve’s (correct) assumption. Maeve was shocked to learn that her strong-willed friend was convinced by a stranger to go see a boxing match. She couldn’t believe it. Granted, once she saw the picture of Harry, she couldn’t disagree. I think I would let him punch me in the face if he wanted to.

She decided keeping Maeve as far away from Harry as possible was probably necessary.

Rarely did she and Maeve work together. As her best employee and best friend, it was like asking her to hold her child when Maeve was on shift. There was no one she trusted more. So, when Maeve wasn’t there, she often was and vice versa. But every so often, usually at the shift change, Maeve got to see her best friend in her element. “Well, the good news is, you can go think of him at home,” she winked at her.

She didn’t even look at her. “You’re disgusting,” she deadpanned.

Maeve snorted. “That’s not even what I was insinuating. Your mind went directly to the gutter. Good for you. I bet he thinks about you while he’s doing it too.”

“Jesus Christ,” she was blushing brightly now. “I just want to fix the display case and then I’ll go.”

“Any fun plans for tonight?”

She hesitated briefly. “Uh yeah...actually. I have a date,” she mumbled.

“Oh!” It was silent for a long beat. Rarely did she go on dates. There were only a few since she moved into town three years ago. Mostly because the bakery took up so much of her free time. The remaining bit of time she had and didn’t go on dates was because of the guilt she felt. Maeve’s surprise was palpable. It made her cheeks turn pink and she bit the inside of her cheek. “Good,” Maeve smiled encouragingly. “Online?” She asked.

She nodded. “We’ve been messaging back and forth for like...” she shrugged. “Two weeks.”

“Are you excited?”

No. “Yes,” she sighed softly. “Been a while,” she smirked. There was a huge part of her brain that told her she didn’t want to go because it wasn’t Harry. It was like a neon sign had been posted in her frontal lobe reminding her that it was pointless to even consider this date. She should have just requested to follow Harry and be done with it—he would probably drop everything if she asked him on a date. “Just...nervous.”

“It’ll be good!” Maeve said reassuringly. “Share your location with me and text me when you get to where you’re sleeping,” she wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

“I will be sleeping at home,” she promised snorting through her laugh at her best friend.

Maeve smiled heading to the front and leaving her to finish with her burned brownies.

*

The front of the bakery was dark in color; she was aiming for warmth. The floors and baseboards were dark walnut brown. It contrasted sharply with the wall she wall-papered by hand with a white and brown marble pattern behind the display cases. It made the black chalkboard menus with the same walnut brown frames stand out. The lights were always set to dim when they were on. Her goal was to recreate the feeling of her childhood home—particularly the den where her father set up the most beautiful Christmases. The bakery lacked a fireplace (she joked with Maeve that it was an oven or a fireplace, and the oven did a better job at cooking croissants evenly).

The front of the bakery wasn’t massive. There were five little tables to sit and enjoy their treats if people wanted but it was really a grab and go kind of place. The back had more treats stored so the main room didn’t look overwhelming. The front display cases still contained more treats than anyone could think of eating. I wish I could buy one of everything was heard frequently from the line. Eventually she wanted to invest in coffee but for the time being she liked just her treats and was happy to recommend the coffee place down the road. If she ever got a hold of more space, then she would consider buying all the machines for coffee.

The bakery was honestly warmest when it was rainy. Which was frequent. She was reorganizing the main cupcake display, a tower of three tiers with one of each type of cupcake she made. The raspberry filled cupcake was the one that had been on top for the last two months. Each time it was bought, she replaced it with another. While people raved about her brownies, cakes, and even the croissants, it was the cupcakes that people came for; and so, she took care of the display as much as possible.

“Which one do you recommend?” She turned to the voice and saw a mom and little girl waiting patiently. She smiled fondly.

“Raspberry filled,” she pulled it from the top tier and handed it over. “Try it,” she offered.

“Oh, we don’t want to get you in trouble,” the mom said quickly while her daughter grabbed for it almost immediately.

She laughed. “Don’t worry, I know the owner,” she promised. “Maeve! I’m leaving!” She called but was delighted by the little girl’s approval. Silence, cake and filling on her cheeks immediately, and a delightful look in her eye.

“Have fun!” She called back.

“Enjoy the cupcakes. I also like the lemon vanilla ones.”

“I think raspberry filled is the winner,” the mom smiled.

She nodded, unable to keep herself from grinning back. “A fan favorite.”

*

She should have stayed home. The bad weather should have been an omen. But maybe it wouldn’t have been because she met Harry in bad weather, and everything was fine that night. It soured her mood and made her feel infinitely worse to think about the comparison.

I’m home. Not a great date. I’ll tell you later. She wished she had gone to Maeve’s. Maybe she would have doted on her. But she didn’t want to fall apart the way she planned on in front of her.

:( sorry babe. Sleep tight. Talk to you tomorrow :(

She locked her apartment door and checked at least fifty times that it was truly locked before she moved to her bathroom. Her heart was still in her throat and her eyes felt raw with tears. Maybe she was overreacting.

No.

The rational part of her brain reasoned against her handwaving casualness. She had good instincts. Obviously. If this same situation happened with Harry, then maybe she would have considered it her own poor judgment. It was more reason that someone as terrifying as Harry could have be sweet as her cupcakes that it was her good judgment that helped her get out of there tonight.

She hurried to get out of her clothes. Part of her considered throwing them away. She didn’t want them any longer. She wasn’t sure she would ever wear them again. She turned the shower on as hot as she could stand it and pushed it a little further.

He didn’t hurt her physically. He tried. It was obvious his intent was to force her into the car... or worse. Which was disgusting in its own right. Until that moment in the dark, rainy parking lot, it was almost identical to her moment with Harry. But it wasn’t. Harry didn’t make her feel unsafe. Harry didn’t make her feel threatened. Harry gave her an out even though he wanted to hang out with her. She knew she could leave at any moment and Harry wouldn’t have blamed her.

She rubbed her arm so hard with her loofa in the shower stream it burned for a new reason. Tears blurred her vision and she felt so stupid. So completely idiotic. How could she let it get that far? That was so dangerous. So close she could have been hurt in so many ways that she didn’t want to think about, ever again. She closed her eyes and let the water wash the night away, feeling completely alone and dreadful.

She never wanted to date again.

*

She finished her shower, sniffles plaguing her, and she got into her comfiest pajamas. Her heart was still beating too fast as she crawled under the covers. She felt so ashamed. It felt like her fault. All of it.

There was a tiny rattling in her brain that Harry could have prevented it all. She should have just requested Harry on social media when she met him. If she had, she would have had his number by then. He would have helped her for sure.

Without thinking, she scrolled on her apps, and clicked on the various follow buttons. Every platform she could think of to request his social media friendship—looking like a lunatic be damned. Almost everything had a phone call button now, she could use it as backup if she needed. For good measure she requested Niall too. It was nearing midnight, and she couldn’t bring herself to care. She was scared. Nervous. Heartbroken.

Yet, within moments, Harry returned the request along with a direct message in her inbox.

Thinking of me at midnight, hmm?  😉

She snorted despite her uneasiness. One sentence and she melted. But she couldn’t let him know that. 🙄 it was nice while it lasted. Just going to unfollow you...

Aw, c’mon Cupcake 🙁

Oh alright... No, not really... just can’t sleep. Popped up on my people you may know while scrolling. It wasn’t a complete lie, and she was glad she wasn’t having a phone call. He would have heard her sniffles and then she wasn’t sure she would have been able to stop herself from inviting a total stranger over. Right now, she didn’t trust her judgment fully.

Been dying to press that Follow button, Cupcake. Didn’t want to come on too strong after that first night.

She couldn’t help but smile. The contrast between the night she met Harry, and her present night made her sad but relieved at the same time. I see you enjoyed the cupcakes.

Louis made me run laps for two hours because of you. I ate all twelve in less than 72 hours. Do you put drugs in those? They’re addicting.

Lol, no drugs. Well... sugar. So, pick your poison I guess, right? 😇

Well, thank you, Cupcake. That was delicious. I hope you liked the match too. We didn’t get to talk much. I know I fell asleep 🤦‍♂️ I was really happy you were there.

Her heart felt so warm already. Despite how much she didn’t want it to. Thank you for inviting me. Because she was nothing if not polite. It was really exciting! I don’t know much about boxing. But it’s obvious you’re very good—not that you need me to tell you that. Were you really going to make me look like an idiot and not tell me you were undefeated?

You’ll make me blush, Cupcake. Didn’t think you’d come with me if you knew.

Sneaky... 👀

Just... wanted you there, kitten. I promise. Nothing more... I know I came off a little too strong and I know I was a little...pushy. I would have let you go to your store if you really wanted to... But...

The three dots on his message disappeared and reappeared a few times over.It was cute to imagine him holding his phone thinking about what to type, erasing it, typing it again.

I can’t explain it, Cupcake. I’ve been going CRAZY these last two months. Niall’s calling me a stalker and I haven’t even SEEN you. The sentiment doesn’t give her any bad feelings. Because despite how much she wanted to be guarded, especially after her evening, she couldn’t help but believe him. Trust him, implicitly.

I swear something in the universe pulled me to you... I woke up just in time to see you blowing up my phone tonight 😍😍

She snorted and felt her body warm with his kindness, his gentle adoration through her phone no less. You’re insane, Harry Styles.

About you 😍

Oh my God... Now she really was blushing, but she couldn’t help but notice she felt so much better chatting with him. Well... we can talk tomorrow if you want.

Oh?

I’m assuming you’re tired and I’ve already hogged more than enough of your time at midnight, as you pointed out.

Oh, no.

No way, Cupcake. I’ll stay up all night to talk with you ❤

Her heart felt so heavy. It was unfair. How could she be so stupid? Her dad would have killed her for being so naïve. It was his worst fear while she was growing up. It was everything he always talked her through when she was going through puberty and telling her about boys teasing her. Her dad reminded her constantly that a man has no right to make her feel scared or fragile.

But she could feel his grip on her arm trying to coerce her back into his car. She shook her head of the thoughts, refusing to let him poison any more of her time than he had. She was talking to Harry. She was okay. It was alright. It didn’t happen. She got in an Uber, and she’ll never see him again.

Harry was talking to her. Harry made her feel safe. Harry didn’t make her stomach unsettled with a bad gut feeling. Here’s my phone number if you want it.

Within moments, she had a new text message alert. This is better than an undefeated record 😍

*

The following morning, she felt less terrible about herself and her stupidity, but she never wanted to feel that way again. She was also so tired from texting with Harry for hours. It was nearly three in the morning catching up on all the things he did in the past two months before she wished him a good night. There wasn’t much to report about their lives. They both seemed to be workaholics, but he did offer her some really cute baby pictures of his niece (and a pretty cute picture of Niall falling asleep on Harry’s couch after an intense workout).

While she sipped her coffee—staving off the sleepiness, she Googled self-defense classes. Her dad would have approved. He wanted her to do it back when she was in college, but she refused for whatever reason. She regretted that too.

It was telling that she debated whether she was overreacting for several minutes. If she was overreacting, she would have brushed off the idea of self-defense classes like she did in college. But this wasn’t something to overreact about, right? Before she could overthink it any longer, she paid for the class. Honestly, in that parking lot she was smart to do this. Worst case scenario, for one reason or another, it was the smart decision.

She cycled through the next stage of grief feeling angry and bitter that he made her feel this way. She was incredibly lucky it was raining and slippery and she managed to get away from him in the chilly spring air. He left her so rattled. She was defenseless, so a class was needed.

God, she missed her dad.

Fuck, she missed Harry.

She never wanted to feel that helpless again.

With the class paid for, she put an apron around her waist and headed to the front of A Pinch of Sprinkles and turned the closed sign to open.

*

The following Monday, after a full day of flour, sugar, and plenty of customers, she headed to the gym.

It felt awkward. She hadn’t been to a gym since her college days, and she was already frustrated from her horrific night out. She and Maeve told each other they would go together but they were terrible influences on one another and opted for shopping trips with the promise they would pretend their shopping bags were dumbbells.

When she arrived, she headed to the front desk and introduced herself. She even admitted she felt awkward and the woman behind the desk smiled encouragingly. “I’m Sarah. Let me show you around,” she came from behind the desk and headed toward the side room. “It’s safe here,” she assured her, like she knew. The assurance made her throat tight with emotion and she nodded stoically. “This is the locker room; you can change in here and you can leave your stuff locked up or in the front cubbies and I can watch it. Whatever makes you more comfortable,” she smiled kindly and glanced her up and down briefly. “Do you own that bakery downtown?”

She smiled and nodded, looking at the flour handprint on the thigh of her pants. “Thought I got all the flour off,” she brushed at it with a chuckle. “Yes, I do.”

“My husband is going to think I met a celebrity today,” she laughed. “We love your blueberry scones. They taste like heaven.”

“Aw, thank you so much, that’s so kind. I’ll bring some next time,” she promised.

“Oh stop, I’ll divorce him,” she laughed and headed back for the front desk.

She quickly changed, feeling safe and relieved once more. She brought her belongings to the front and sat in one of the seats across from Sarah’s desk. “Kickboxing is just wrapping up and your instructors will be right over,” there was a group of several other women milling about. Obviously, they at least knew how to be in a gym by themselves. A few came as a small group. Maybe she should have brought Maeve.

While waiting, she scrolled through emails from her landlord, her college alma mater group, and all the coupons she had ever subscribed to. “I have got to unsubscribe,” she murmured to herself. She scrolled through photos of the beautiful little area she lived in now, and as sad as it was to get here, it was nice. Her shop was nice. Despite how scared she was over the weekend, things were good.

The only thing that wasn’t nice was that stupid, awful man.

“Holy shit, he’s hot,” she heard someone whisper. It was peripheral. She didn’t even register it really because she was sending Maeve a picture of the sale that was happening at their favorite clothing store on Thursday. If she paid attention, she might have noticed sooner.

“Ladies, self-defense class, this way please!” The voice was familiar, but she couldn’t place it. Maeve sent about ten heart eyes to her, and she smiled, stuffed her phone in her bag, and waved to Sarah.

“Blueberry scones,” she repeated with a firm nod and followed the line of women. She sipped from her water taking in the banners around the gym and realized too late why Louis’ voice sounded so familiar.

He stood at the front of the room, along with another familiar face.

“Oh shit,” she whispered to herself and turned immediately back toward the desk.

She bumped into another woman who steadied her and kindly looked her over. “Sorry—are you alright?” she was nearly motherly in her demeanor and her head felt woozy. She couldn’t do this. Harry would know.

Why was Harry attending her self-defense class?

“Yes, yes, sorry,” she shook her head. “Wrong—”

“Hey,” Harry’s voice was right there. She stepped out of the room trying to get more air to her lungs and head.He wasn’t attending. He was teaching. This was his gym. The boxing rings in the main room should have been a clue. The sound of Louis’ voice. Oh, you stupid idiot, her brain scolded.

“Cupcake?” Her head responded to the nickname instinctively. Harry’s suspicious green eyes gazed back at her. “What are you doing here?”

--

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Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) X Fem-Reader - Sinless Sinners - Chapter 3

Chapter 3 - Learning To Get Along

A/N – So, a user on A03 suggested the snake servants’ new names. It was a stroke of genius on their behalf, and I can only thank them for it.

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

MALE VERSION HERE

GN VERSION HERE

Tag-List: @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @sseleniaa @randomgurl2326  @22carolina08 @astrxwitch @yu-87 @clover-1767 @lil-bexie @thesimpybitch

Do you think you can manage that? Lucifer’s words hung in the air, creating an icy barrier between you.

So, Lucifer thought himself too good for low-life Sinners such as yourself. That wasn’t fair. Sinners might be in Hell for a reason, but sometimes such reasons were just fucking stupid. Heaven ought to base their entry requirements on a person’s character or strength of heart, not just their actions. You had met plenty of Sinners who were in Hell because of the most trivial shit.

There were those who liked to sleep around, but if sex positivity was a problem, then how did Heaven explain Angels like Adam, whom Charlie had told you about in excruciating detail. Lust shouldn’t have ever been considered a Sin, as long as all participants in any such carnal act were above age and consenting.

Then, there were a few murderers you knew. Granted, murder made the lines blurry, but some Sinners killed in self-defence, or only targeted others such as themselves, protecting the innocent in a very gruesome Dexter-like fashion. Were they really to be condemned? And who the fuck gave a damn about Sloth. So, some people were just bone idle, who gave a shit? Heaven apparently.

And now, the ruler of Hell was condemning those around him as well. He was supposed to care for his people, good or bad. Not to mention those who were solely created for or born in Hell, such as Imps, Hell-Hounds, or the Deadly Sins themselves; they hadn’t committed any crimes to get sent here originally – it was their home.

Your eyebrows furrowed, creating an annoyed crease along your forehead.

“No,” You told Lucifer, who stared at you incredulously.

No? Didn’t you understand the situation? He was Lucifer. King of Hell. He could destroy you with no effort spared, leaving no trace that you ever existed, and you were telling him no? He wasn’t an unreasonable guy, but how could you possibly think that being around him was a good idea? Did you respect Charlie more than you feared him? Granted, he didn’t go out much so few knew how powerful he was, but no other Sinner would dare deny him his wishes.

You saw the look he was giving you and decided to explain yourself.

“Look, I’m only here ‘cos Charlie thought it was a good idea, and if you genuinely hate me, I’ll go and you’ll never have to see me again, but you’re not even trying right now. You haven’t spoken to me. You don’t know anything about me, and frankly, I think Charlie’s right, you do need someone to talk to.”

“I don’t-” Lucifer started.

“You don’t even know why I’m down here,” You interrupted angrily, though you refrained from raising your voice. “And you don’t want to know, right? ‘Cos all of us filthy Sinners must be the same. Ooh, we squandered your gift of Free Will and now we deserve to suffer for eternity, do we? Grow up!”

Lucifer stared at you in astonishment, and you sighed, apparently not finished in your tirade, “I’m going to my room tonight, but tomorrow, I expect that you’ll at least try to tolerate me. Who knows? We might even find some common ground. We both love Charlie, don’t we?”

Lucifer didn’t know what to say to that. He certainly loved his daughter, more than anything else in the universe, but you? He still suspected that you had some kind of ulterior motive… everyone in Hell did. Yet, you had a point. He would do this for her, even if it meant he had to tolerate you.

Who were you, really?

He looked at you closely for the first time, trying to pick out some detail of who you might have been. It was even more disturbing than he previously thought. Before, he only saw a human. Now, he examined your clothes. There was little to say about the style, but your apparel was reminiscent of a Holy Animal. With the ruffled cuffs of your jacket, the way the back peaked to create the image of feathers, and the yellow ribbon that lined the white material, you looked like a dove.

Yet… Despite living in the Hazbin Hotel, Charlie had insisted that you didn’t seek redemption. Why go through the farce of dressing like an Angel then… unless? No, you couldn’t be. No Angel would dare stray from Heaven unless they were ordered to.

Lucifer held back a glower, trying to keep his emotions in check so you wouldn’t sense his thoughts. There was a possibility, though small that you had been sent by the likes of Adam to spy on Lucifer and his kin, ensuring that none of Charlie’s patrons ever found a way to the Pearly Gates.

Well, it wouldn’t take long to uncover your ruse. Lucifer had ways of telling an Angel from a Demon, and once you were asleep, he would know.

“Yeah,” Lucifer said evenly. “I love my Charlie.”

“So, you’ll try then.”

Lucifer nodded his head in consent.

“Okay, I’ll see you in the morning. Good night.”

The sentiment went unreturned as your King returned to his chambers, biding his time until you slept.

When you returned to your room, you got ready for bed. The day had been long and unusual. Honestly, you didn’t feel that you had a place in the manor, and you longed for your room in the Hotel, even if it was smaller, had a large stain on the carpet (which Nifty had named Vivienne) and an unruly infestation of roaches.

In the short time you had spent there, it had become home.

You would miss the arguing inhabitants, the energetic wake-up call from Charlie, the feeling of safety that Vaggie instilled, and the sound of Alastor’s morning and evening radio broadcasts. Yet, you hoped you might find something equally valuable in return if only Lucifer would open himself up to the possibility that you didn’t want anything from him.

After glancing out of your window, which had a balcony you could step out to if you so wished, you took in the whole of the Magne District which was the heart of Pentagram City. If you strained your eyes, you could just see the flashing neon of the Hazbin Hotel, and if you turned your gaze up… There was Heaven, out of reach yet always in sight, taunting most Sinners, yet emboldening a brave few who dared to wonder What If? What if they could change and gain admittance to a better life?

You sighed and dared not ponder further when you needed to get some sleep.

Throwing yourself on the plush bed, you got comfortable, arranging yourself how you liked, then leaning over to your bedside table, you blew out the cherry candle you had previously lit.

You rested your head atop the satin pillows, then frowned, feeling a lump beneath it. You reached under and pulled out a rubber duck, painted to look like a Hellhound-Duck hybrid. Assuming it was one of Charlie’s childhood toys, you placed it carefully atop the table; it would keep you company on your first night in a strange new place.

Lucifer waited till the late twilight hours before leaving his workshop. He transformed himself into a snake, slithering silently through the Hallways, ensuring that you wouldn’t hear him coming.

Before being cast out of Heaven, detecting an Angel would have been a simple task. He would just know, the way he now knew how to read a Demon. Yet, with you giving off little sign of Demonic energy, he now had to test if you were of Angelic origin. There were two ways he could do so. The first was by spilling your blood. Those who were born in or sent to Heaven had golden ichor instead of the oozing red or black goop of Hell-spawn and Sinners.

However, not wishing to alert you to his presence, Lucifer decided to opt for the other method.

Once he was inside your room and certain that you were in a deep slumber, he reverted to his original form, standing over you, his pupils turning to slits at the thought of a traitor in his house. If you were what he thought you to be, he would kill you immediately.

He pulled a small yellow twenty-sided stone from his pocket and baring his fangs in anger, he pressed it lightly against your skin.

Nothing happened.

Lucifer’s expression changed from one of deep-seated loathing to confusion. You weren’t from Heaven. If you were, the stone would have glowed a brilliant shade of Gold. Instead, it remained its original dull yellow.

Very well.

He would keep his word and… Tolerate you.

He left your room as quietly as he had entered it. Tomorrow, things would be different.

Lucifer didn’t sleep that night; the idea of change was terrifying.

The next morning, when Lucifer finally resigned himself to the fact that he was going to have to face you eventually, he headed downstairs, assuming that was where you were.

“JUST TRY IT!” He heard you yell. “TRY! OPEN YOUR MOUTH, DAMN IT!”

“Uh…” Was all he could think to say as he entered the kitchen and found you clinging to one of the snake cleaners he had created the previous night, in a rodeo-like fashion. The creature was trying to buck you off, with a somewhat derpy expression, probably stupidly assuming it was a game; Lucifer hadn’t bothered to instil them with much intelligence since he didn’t need them for anything more than cleaning.

“ARGH!” You grunted as you were dislodged from its back.

“What- What is this?” Lucifer asked, confused.

“Oh shit!” You cursed, embarrassed to have been caught in a less-than-dignified position. You attempted to regain a little composure by standing up, then held up a handful of wadded-up pancake.

“Do they eat?” You demanded, referring to the reptilian cleaners, “’Cos they’ve been in a picture frame their whole lives, and they must be hungry by now.”

Of all the stupid things you could have done, Lucifer couldn’t help but crack a smile, though he had the decency to hide his laugh behind a clenched fist and pass it off as a cough.

“They don’t need to.”

“Okay, but can they?”

“If they wanted to, I suppose so.”  

You glared at the mushed-up pancake, “I fucking knew it. Spick, Span, eat your fucking breakfast!”

“I’m sorry, who now?” Lucifer asked.

“Well, they clean, don’t they? Spick and Span seem to fit unless you have something better to name them.”

Lucifer chuckled, a half-short-lived chuckle, but one all the same. You were more chaotic than he expected.

“Fine, if you want them to eat, you’ve got to cook in style.”

He waved his hands energetically, his outfit transforming from his usual suit to one befitting a flashy Michelin Chef. He was comfortable in the role of an entertainer as he made a dazzling display of cooking up eggs. With the flash-bang of indoor fireworks, the island counter gained a conveyor belt to transport several dishes, all perfectly presentable and giving off a delectable aroma of herbs and spices.

Eggs-benedict, frittatas, and shakshuka shot by you, closely followed by a hungry Span, though his twin was busy writhing on the conveyer belt, trying to get to his feather duster, yet doomed to chase it since he didn’t think to travel in the opposite direction so it would meet him in the middle.

The sight was memorable to say the least, even when Spick knocked the food onto the floor and his brother was left stupidly sucking on the corner of the countertop where his seemingly new favourite dish had splattered.

You couldn’t help laughing.

“See?” You struggled to get the words out, “I knew they’d like food. I’m just a shite cook.”

Lucifer gazed at his dishes proudly, even though they were no longer fit for either of your consumption.

“Hah,” You said, feeling somewhat awkward now that the moment had passed and Lucifer’s gaze was upon you, trying to figure you out. “I’ll uh, clean this up.”

“No need, leave it to Flim and Flam,” Lucifer said nonchalantly.

“You know that’s not their names.”

“Whatever. So… we’ve met, there was breakfast with a show. We done for today?”

The smile fell from your face as you realised that all of this was just another of Lucifer’s acts. Granted, he might have actually had fun with it, but it was all just in the name of claiming he had tried to be around you, and just wanted to leave as soon as possible.

“I don’t know. I was going to go into the City if you wanted to come.”

“I can’t. I have… plans.”

Lucifer’s mood soured as he thought about visiting Heaven’s embassy to set up the meeting for Charlie. He hated everything about that building. The décor was just a cruel reminder of everything Heaven had banished him from. Moreover, while the Angels had to respect his power, they didn’t respect him; their cruel words and thinly veiled insults always cut him the deepest. Not to mention how bitter he was that the balance of power was uneven. Sure, Heaven had an embassy in Hell, but there was no such building in Heaven where Demons could work to arrange meetings between Angels and him.

It would always be Lucifer going to their building, on their terms, usually at their behest.

“Plans? So, you’re setting up Charlie’s meeting today?” You guessed astutely. “You know, I’m walking that way too.”

Lucifer guessed at your game. You probably hadn’t been going in that direction at all, but this was all in the name of ‘trying’. One way or another, he would have to learn to get along with you.

“Fine. Let’s go,” He said, flicking his hand back blasély, even though he found the idea of walking the streets of Hell daunting.

It would be better if he could teleport there, but at least, by the end of the day, you would have something positive to report back to Charlie.

[mcuamerica]

The Shadowsinger: Three

Warnings: 18+. Minors DNI. mentions of parental abuse, mentions of violence, implied torture, ACOTAR series spoilers. If I forgot anything, please let me know!

Pairings: Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: Rhys asks you to be an emissary for the Night Court and Azriel volunteers to train you.

Disclaimer: I do not own SJM’s characters or plot lines, only the ones I create for the purpose of this story. This is a work of fiction. I do not give permission to repost my work on any other platform or medium. Please be respectful.

My graphics are my own. If you wish to use them, please give credit!

Series Masterlist

Prologue - One - Two

The next month was spent with you learning about Velaris and the rest of Prythian. Even though you were 20 when you ended up in the northern village, you knew a lot had changed in the 100… and 50… years since then. You couldn’t count on anything you learned from being a spy because so much was different under Amarantha.

You spent days in the Library under the house, reading books about High Lords and Illyrians. You also found some good romance novels you brought up to your room.

This city, one that was full of hopes and dreams and happiness… It hadn’t been touched in hundreds of years. Not even the people in the Court of Nightmares knew about it anymore, thanks to Rhys’s protection.

You got to know Cassian, Mor, and Amren pretty well. Azriel had been off doing his own spying, so you only got to know him from what the Inner Circle told you.

You felt like you were starting to belong here. Like you could find a place in the city. Maybe even in the circle. 

“I have an offer for you.” Rhys said at dinner one day. You took a sip of your wine and rose your eyebrows, telling him to go on. “We are trying to get the Illyrians to train the females. Those who want to be trained, or aren’t being threatened by their partners, of course. And I think you’d be a good emissary to the war bands.” He said, glancing at Cassian as if to say keep your mouth shut.

“Me? I- I don’t know if they would listen to a female… especially if their High Lord is having trouble with it.” You said, glancing over to Cassian. You knew the male would probably support what you chose, but if the High Lord and Lord Commander were struggling… 

“Well, then you’ll have to make them listen. And not to bring your abilities into it… but you are a Shadowsinger. They can’t deny that, and they’ll tolerate you more because of it.” He said. How lovely…

“Like they did for Azriel?” You asked, hearing the stories of the brothers from Mor and Rhys. They barely allowed him to train, being a bastard. The only reason they did was because he was a Shadowsinger, and Rhys’s friend… “I don’t know, Rhys… it’s one thing to visit those camps. But to try and convince them that they have to train females..” you trailed off. “I don’t even know how to fight. I can’t very well take on an Illyrian.”

“You know how to hunt, right?” Cassian asked and you shrugged. You hunted for Sirona and your family when you first arrived at the northern village, but you hadn’t done a lot in the past 50 years. The most you ever did was with your Shadows, and that was more described as sneaking. “Then I’ll teach you to fight. Show the Illyrians that females can fly in their ranks just as good, if not better, than any male.” He said.

“You can think about it-“ Rhys started but you shook your head.

“I’ll do it.” You said firmly. “I’m tired of being useless when it comes to protecting myself and the people I love. I’m not going to let it happen again.” You said, your shadows settling on your shoulders as if they were backing you up. You let your family down before. You let your blood family harm you and the only thing you could do was flee. 

“Okay, then it’s settled. I’ll train you-“

“How about I do it?” You heard Azriel’s voice, turning to him where he leaned against the wall. A few of your shadows bolted to him like the first day you met, this time wrapping around him before coming back to you. You could’ve sworn they brought some of his scent with them. They didn’t say anything, but they seemed to like him more than anyone else you met. 

“Az, when did you get back?” Cassian asked.

As smirked, “Just now.” He said

“You want to train (Y/N)?” Cassian asked, resulting in Azriel nodding.

“I can teach you how to fight with and without your shadows. And when I’ve gotta go out on missions, Cass can train you on the former.” He said and you looked at Rhys.

“Whatever you want.” Rhys said and smiled. “It’s your choice.”

You glanced between the two. You didn’t know Azriel as well as you did Cassian… but you knew he was a Shadowsinger like you. And you know he could help you hone your abilities. You also knew that he was just as much a deadly warrior as the other two males sitting beside you.

“Okay, it’s a good idea.” I said and gave him a small smile. You could’ve sworn you saw his face flush, but only for a moment before he was back to showing his unreadable mask. “Maybe you can teach me how to spy… and this time actually keep secrets when I want to.” You joked. You knew how to spy. Knew how to get information out of people. When Rhys didn’t have time to interrogate spies under the mountain, she had you do it. You still felt blood on your hands from all the lesser faeries and High Fae you harmed on her behalf. 

Az only gave you a small nod before joining the rest of you at the table. “I do have one request,” you said to all of them. “I don’t go to Valorworth until I’m done training.” You said. Before any of them could ask, you continued. “I can’t see my family… My blood family… yet. What they did to me.. I was weak and a coward. I couldn’t stand up for myself so the only thing I did was run. So the next time I do see them, I want to be able to show them I’m not weak. And I won’t run from them.”

There was something of understanding on all of their faces as you looked around the table. “If you want to kill them, we’ll gladly allow it.” Cassian said with a small smirk on his face. “Hell, I’ll even do it.” Rhys said and you smiled, letting out a small laugh.

“I don’t need to go that far… yet.” You said and leaned back in the chair, happy to be able to help the Court.

“You’ll get a salary as well,” Rhys said. “You’re welcome to stay here at the House. Or the townhouse. But you can also find an apartment.” He said and you smiled.

“I’ll think about it. Right now, it’s better to stay close to where I can train.” You settled. “If staying here is okay with all of you, that is.” You said.

“Are you kidding? It’ll be so much better having you here and not just the boys.” Mor said and you laughed gently, finally feeling like you could really fit in here.

The next day you went up to the training ring, seeing Azriel already warming up. You stood quietly by the stairs, watching as his shadows moved with him as he did movements you’d seen thousands of times in Valorworth.

His shadows didn’t warn him of your presence. A couple of them snuck out from behind his legs and went over to you, circling around your hair. Your own shadows moved to join him in the center of the ring. You still barely understood the concept of Shadowsinging, even after all these years. But maybe now, with him as your teacher, you could understand it more. And learn to understand yourself.

You finally cleared your throat as you stepped forward. As much as you wanted to, you knew you couldn’t stand and watch him all day. “You certainly know what you’re doing.” You commented as you walked closer to him.

Rhys had gotten Illyrian training leathers for you, tailored to your wings and your sizes. So when you walked up to Azriel, he had to pause just to take you in. You didn’t wear dresses much, but you also didn’t wear anything as tight fitting as this. Not that he’s seen you within the past month.

You shifted under his gaze, looking up to the sky. After breakfast and before you came here, you decided to take a flight. You knew it would be getting colder, and the frigid fall air only proved you right. This would be one of the last nice days before it started to snow. And flying would be a hassle.

“I am teaching you for a reason.” He finally said and you nodded. “Come here, let’s get started.” He motioned you over to where he stood.

You walked over and set your hands to your side. You were glad he decided to train you here and not in Windhaven. You didn’t know if you could handle being seen by the males, critiqued. Cassian told you that wasn’t the only reason he wanted to train you here. Apparently, Azriel hated the Illyrians. You completely understood, too, from what you’d learn about Azriel. The things that happened to him while at the war camps. Especially before Rhysand’s mother had come along to take him in. Still, you didn’t want to start training as an Illyrian when you didn’t know anything. 

You weren’t sure how or why Azriel still adapted to the training, but it was probably so ingrained into him (and useful) that he couldn’t let it go. And so you had your trainer.

“I’m assuming you never trained at the camp?” He asked and you simply shook your head, scoffing at the idea. Your father would have killed you if he saw you anywhere near the training rings. “Do you know the exercises at all? Anything?” He asked and you shook your head.

“I was 20 when I left, and I was never allowed near the ring. I’ve only ever saw my brothers train once, and I remember the beating I got for it more than anything else.” You said. “All I know is that my father had a killer left hook that would leave my face bruised for a week. Even with my healing.” You said and saw something like anger flash through Azriel’s eyes before returning to his soft stare.

“Then let’s teach you an even worse one, and maybe he’ll learn never to hit a female again.” He said and you gave him a small smirk.

“Let’s.” You agreed and started the warm up with him.

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A/N: Well we see the reader finally interact with Azriel! Not much but just a little taste of it... I hope y'all like slow burns cause this one is very much that...

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Dating Yandere Erik Lensherr (Magneto) Would Include:

Dating him as a yandere can be terrifying and thrilling at the same time. As a yandere, he can be obsessive and possessive to the point of being violent towards anyone who tries to get close to you. His love for you can be deep and passionate, but it can also turn into something dark and twisted without warning. You will always be the target of his affections, but if you make one wrong move, you could find yourself in a lot of trouble.

Dating someone who's a bit on the "yandere" side can have its moments. He can be extremely passionate, possessive, and jealous. He may also have a tendency to lash out or be unpredictable at times. However, if you're willing to put up with all of that, there's also a lot of love and care involved. It won't be a boring relationship, that's for sure.

It can be both fun and exhausting at the same time, since he can be quite possessive of you, always wanting to hold you in his arms and wanting to protect you from any danger. But at the same time, he tries to allow you to be free, since he understands that you have other interests and hobbies besides him.

As someone who has been through so much trauma, he can get very clingy and overprotective. He may seem overprotective but he's just being cautious and caring. If you try to hurt him or anyone he cares about, you will see his dark side. He could seem possessive at times but trust me, he just cares a lot. Just please understand that he's been through more than you know or can imagine or at least that's what he tells you.

He may seem harsh and strict on the outside, but he's actually quite an affectionate person when he's in a relationship especially when you do what he wants. He'd make sure to spoil you with gifts, dates, and plenty of love and affection. But if you betray his trust, he can also be quite cruel.

It’s going to be difficult dating him as a yandere to be quite honest. He's extremely possessive, aggressive, and emotionally unstable. He's very prone to having violent meltdowns and he has a low tolerance for patience and empathy, making him a very destructive partner.

Since he has a few psychological disturbances, he sometimes tends to act very clingy and possessive over his partner. He may lash out if you talk to other people and can’t handle the thought of losing you. He likes to be the only one in your life and will do anything to keep it that way.

He cannot tolerate any rival in his love life. His possessiveness will take over any rational reasoning and he can't bear the thought of you spending any time with someone else. It can be a bit suffocating for his lover and he usually likes to know all your activities all the time, just to make sure that you are not seeing anyone else. He can become obsessive and a bit aggressive too.

He would expect you to be devoted and loyal to him. He'd want you to be willing to do anything for him, and in return, he'd take care of you. If you did anything to break his trust, he'd become possessive, jealous, and possibly even violent. The worst thing you could dare do is cheat on him.

He'd be very possessive of you when it comes to other people. He'd be jealous and insecure if you were to talk or interact with others at all. He would need to have you all to himself and wouldn't stop until you're his completely.

His personality is also very intense and passionate. He's a man of extremes, and he feels everything extremely strongly. That includes his love and affection for you. So dating him as a yandere will be intense and exciting, but also potentially dangerous and unpredictable.

He can be quite moody and temperamental at times. He's a complicated person with a lot of different sides to his personality. He can be a sweet and caring boyfriend one moment, and the next moment a complete nightmare. But underneath all of those different layers is a deep and true passion for the ones he loves. He's a complicated character that can't be fully described in just a few words.

He'd be quite manipulative. He knows how to get what he wants and play to people's vulnerabilities. He's a clever schemer and he wouldn't hesitate to use that trait to his advantage. Though he could be overly possessive and manipulative, there's a softer side to him that would just need some love and affection before it can blossom.

His possessiveness isn't just limited to physical aspects. He would also want you to be emotionally and mentally devoted to him as well. He would want to be the center of your world and he would expect you to only have eyes for him. He wouldn't want you to hang out with or talk to other people, especially of the opposite gender.

Dating him would mean he wouldn't let you go anywhere without him by your side. He would be very controlling and manipulative, he would isolate you from your friends and family so you only have him. He would be obsessive about everything you do, who you're with, where you've been, etc. He will constantly check up on you and always have eyes on you.

He would be very demanding, needing lots of attention and affection, and he'd be very territorial towards you. If anyone ever touched you or tried to take you away from him, he'd become extremely violent and vengeful. He'd also be very obsessed with you, wanting to know every little detail of your life.

Dates with him as a yandere would be… interesting. He'd be very possessive and overbearing during the dates, wanting to be glued to you at all times. His jealous tendencies would also arise, becoming very upset and angry if he saw you talking to someone else. He'd be very clingy, wanting to hold your hand and be near you at all times. He'd be very intense about the dates, wanting them to be perfect and all about him.

He would likely give you lavish and extravagant gifts to ensure you stayed with him. He would also likely spoil you rotten and treat you like a princess. He would be very affectionate and loving towards you, showering you with compliments and love. He'd be willing to do anything and everything for you, ensuring that you were happy and satisfied.

If you ever made him mad or upset him, he'd likely punish you in some way. He might give you the silent treatment, ignore you, or get very angry and aggressive. He would also manipulate you and use your emotions against you, playing mind games with you to get you to comply with him. He would likely be very strict and would not hesitate to be harsh and cruel with you if you didn't obey him.

He would likely be very controlling and possessive and would want you to do what he says without question. He'd be very possessive of your phone and try to constantly have access to it, not letting you have any privacy. He'd also likely be very jealous and emotionally reactive, being prone to outbursts of anger and violence if he ever noticed anyone else was interested in you or had their eye on you even if it was through your socials.

 Biting: He likes the feeling of someone biting or nibbling on his ears, neck, shoulders, and other places as well as marking you as his.

Toys: He enjoys using different toys and objects to enhance your experience, such as handcuffs, vibrators, or paddles.

Domination: He likes to let loose and lose himself in the moment, taking the lead and being in control.

Bondage: He likes tying you up, or using other forms of restraint to spice up your intimate moments.

Another thing He likes is when you are responsive and reactive to his actions. If you are enjoying yourself and communicating that, it makes him feel like he is bringing you pure pleasure.

[oh-my-bindery]

Drarry: I love that Harry the hero is down for murder. But Draco the guy who comes from a long line of a family of dark magic is the one that hates murder (it's literally canon Draco can not kill anyone for shit) and it gives me so many feels. It's partly because I love healer Draco. But also because Harry is reckless and does not have a lot of self preservation. His idea of justice is like you die by the sword.

Definitely! I draw all my conclusions from canon.

Buckle up bc I went on a rant here

The way Draco is written and what we are shown of his actions and character, we can clearly conclude at least few things:

- Draco is a person who fights with his words, that cut deeper than a knife. He knows what he is doing and wants it to hurt. I believe he does it to feel better about himself.

- Draco can’t kill. He literally can’t kill. Even his wand (that chose him) is one that has the most difficult time turining into Dark Arts. It reflects on his character. He is different from his family.

- Draco is a very sensitive boy as we are told by Moaning Myrtle in HBP. We also get to see him break down and for the first time show his real emotions which is a new thing from him. Harry has never seen him cry. Which leads me to ask, why? All 6 years and no one saw Draco cry before? No one saw him express deeper emotions that his usual proud and snarky / bully mask? It is definitely connected to his family, most likely Lucius, as Narcissa is the one who even though believes in blood purity shit, never takes a Dark Mark, never fights for Voldemort, her main concern is always Draco. She has so much love for him. It is probably why Draco even knows that he can allow himself to cry, even if it’s on his own.

- Moaning Myrtle also tells us that Draco is lonely.

- On Harry Potter wiki and Pottermore (I think) it says that Draco was never able to produce a Patronus spell as he didn’t have a strong enough of a happy memory - well that’s sad seeing as Harry was able to do it with how shit his life was.

Draco is supposed to seemingly be rich, get everything he wants, he has a family that is alive , Mother who loves him SO MUCH, father that would she if anything happened to him (well he failed to protect Draco from the worst and then did nothing after the fact, continued being awful but that’s another rant), Slytherins seem to like him, he has some friends although I’m not even sure he likes them or if they like him (from canon we know that by Deathly Hallows - Crabbe and Goyle hate him. Draco never really liked Blaise (or wasn’t fond of him. He tolerated Pansy and had some trust towards her.)

So even though Draco smilingly has all, he doesn’t have a strong enough of a happy memory.

- Draco is terrified of killing someone, so much so he stops eating, keeps to himself and stops being himself when tasked with killing Dumbledore.

When Harry sees Draco in his Voldy visions - Draco looks terrified and broken when asked to torture Rowle - the sight of how Draco is being pushed into doing those horrible things and how much he could be suffering- canonically makes Harry try to get rid of the visions because he doesn’t want to see Draco torture people or if he refuses/ can’t- see Draco being tortured or killed.

- Draco doesn’t care if he dies. Why? Who knows? But he literally lies to his whole family that are depending on him to identify Harry as Harry Potter at the manor and he just doesn’t. He knows what are the consequences of failing to capture Harry are (probably being killed by Voldemort, him and his family.) and Draco knows it is Harry. If he was cruel and and awful person he would say “yep, that’s Potter” but instead Harry notices that Draco looks just as terrified, hands shaky as Harry was. Draco literally would rather have Harry survive and himself die than other way around. It is SO CANON.

And Harry wise

- Harry is super hot-headed as we know.

I think looking at his reaction when Sirius was killed, he literally sprung from Remus’s arms, shooting, shooting curses after Bellateix. He crucioed her. No, thinking, he just does.

When people whom Harry loves / cares about are killed or harmed Harry has no thoughts just do. Give them hell. He will deal with consequences later - he is bad at the ‘dealing with the consequences bit though. He doesn’t want to be a killer, and hates himself for being capable of it.

When Snape kills Dumbledore, Harry is in SO MUCH RAGE. He goes after Snape and literally uses Sectumsempra on him, knowing what it would do- if not helped Snape literally would die lol.

But when it comes to Draco and Harry almost killing him, knowing about Dracos Dark Mark, him being suspicious all year, being horrible to him all other years - ABSOLUTELY NOT ACCEPTABLE.

He leaves Draco alone even after he find out Draco was going to kill Dumbledore.

In conclusion, Harry would 100% kill for Draco, no questioning it. He wouldn’t feel bad about the person being killed but about the fact that he is capable to killing.

[licorice-and-rum]

Snape's Full Character Analysis

Okay, so I’ve already made this kind of post in my previous account (licorice-lips) but since it got deleted, here I go again because I think the world should hear more about this.

I do hate Severus Snape — and I have little to no patience for those who do and try to justify his actions with whatever. But unlike many people, my dislike for Snape doesn’t stem from “oh, he’s a child abuser” or “oh, he didn’t love Lily” but from a mix of many factors involving among other things, the way R*wling portrays supremacist ideology and its followers, the way the fandom often downplays supremacist ideology and its followers, and Snape as a character himself.

Now, I’m going to extend this essay into a full character analysis instead of just commenting on how Snape’s redemption arc sucks like I did previously because I’m feeling like it. To begin, I need you to understand how… biased R*wling’s portray of supremacist ideology really is:

J.K. Rowling is European and English (duh), which means she descends from a people who benefited (a lot and still do) from colonialism and imperialism, and both things are the basis for modern day fascism. As an author myself, it’s painfully clear to me how intrinsically close my characters and works are from myself and my own personal values. As such, it’s not such a hardship — especially if we remember how the elves and goblins are portrayed in HP — to understand how Rowling views political issues such as colonialism, imperialism and fascism.

She may not realize it but the way she does talk about the matter is such a right-wing way of tolerance to fascist thinking: as it’s very clear in Harry Potter just because of the story, the problem for the author isn’t a system of prejudice and bigotry, it’s those very few people who have become corrupted. Rowling does not identify the problem as the tree being bad when most apples — save one of two — have turn out bad. And that’s the core problem of so many things in Harry Potter but it also shows in the core problem I have with Snape’s portrayal: the way she absolutely downplays the fact that the man was a death eater for years of his life by pure and absolute conviction.

As someone who lived through a fascistic government, I’ll say it with all certainty: even the slightest support to fascistic views will propel further an agenda that will end up killing innocent people by the dozens. The truth is, even with all the undeniable good Snape did as he worked as a spy, he was a Death Eater for his conviction and at the end of the day it doesn’t matter why he chose to become one.

At the end of the day, it doesn’t matter that he was neglected and abused by his parents, or that he was bullied in school, or that his crush didn’t reciprocated his feelings: he still became a Death Eater, he chose to become one. And that is unforgivable. It unforgivable because it means he supported and actively worked for a system of thinking that ridiculed, persecuted, tortured and murdered hundreds, if not thousands, of innocent people. He advocated for a political view that has no regard for human life, that perpetuates the abuse he suffered firsthand — just in a slightly different direction. He didn’t just not break his cycle of abuse, he actively perpetuated it. Advocated for it.

And don’t get me wrong: I’m not saying here that the abuse Snape went through isn’t important at all: there is definitely something to be said about the preying of supremacist groups for young isolated men who feel left out and emasculated. But that doesn’t mean Snape gets to be absolved for his own choices because that’s what they were: his choices. He chose to become a Death Eater, he chose to uphold the cycles of abuse he had been a victim to not long before, he chose to protect it even in the face of people — good people — telling him that it wasn’t a good thing.

That’s my point, actually: Snape may have been preyed upon by the blood supremacy ideology as a teen but at some point, he chose to be influenced by it more than by millions of other influences around him. He wasn’t completely isolated or ignorant of the world to the point that the only influence he could possibly choose was the blood supremacy one, no: he had people telling him the contrary and still chose to follow blood supremacy. So, no, it’s not forgivable that he chose to become a Death Eater because he did know better than that, his very friendship with Lily proved it.

But because Rowling sees the system — a system whose very roots are prejudice and bigotry — as not actually the problem, we see these problems sliding down the hill of “oh, he was just a misguided boy” even if that’s not what she herself says: it’s what her work says.

The truth is, as much as some supremacist’s core reason for their beliefs are a deep feeling of inadequacy, that’s not enough simply because they’ll cause as much damage with their actions than any other supremacist that’ll become a supremacist for the hatred alone. Snape, who (for some) was propelled into supremacy for his isolation in his teenage years, persecuted and tortured and killed as many people as Lucius or Bellatrix did, the result is the same. And at the end of the day, the reason why you did something doesn’t matter as much as the fact that you did do something.

We can cry a river about how our intentions were good but that doesn’t mean that what we did was. Between our intentions and our actions, there’s an abyss, and it’s not until we crossed it that we can see whether or not they are alike. In Snape’s case, considering he genuinely believed the supremacist ideology he upheld would turn the wizarding world better, it doesn’t really matter: he still caused damage.

And he has never been redeemed because for a redemption arc to work properly, you need to

Acknowledge what happened — there’s not much Snape is liable to deny it happened because, of course, he’s always caught on the scenes we are privy to.

Take accountability for what you’ve done — which Snape doesn’t do, as it’s exemplified perfectly many times throughout The Prince’s Tale in Deathly Hollows. He deflects, he lies, he declares he had no intentions of doing what he did, but he never, not once, takes accountability for what he has done and what ended up hurting other people:

“There was a crack. A branch over Petunia’s head had fallen. Lily screamed. The branch caught Petunia on the shoulder, and she staggered backward and burst into tears.

“Tuney!” But Petunia was running away. Lily rounded on Snape. “Did you make that happen?” “No.” He looked both defiant and scared. “You did!” She was backing away from him. “You did! You hurt her!” “No – no, I didn’t!” But the lie did not convince Lily.”

““…thought we were supposed to be friends?” Snape was saying, “Best friends?” “We are, Sev, but I don’t like some of the people you’re hanging round with! I’m sorry, but I detest Avery and Mulciber! Mulciber! What do you see in him, Sev, he’s creepy! D’you know what he tried to do to Mary Macdonald the other day?” Lily had reached a pillar and leaned against it, looking up into the thin, sallow face. “That was nothing,” said Snape. “It was a laugh, that’s all –” “It was Dark Magic, and if you think that’s funny –” “What about the stuff Potter and his mates get up to?” demanded Snape.”

“It was nighttime. Lily, who was wearing a dressing gown, stood with her arms folded in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady, at the entrance to Gryffindor Tower. “I only came out because Mary told me you were threatening to sleep here.” “I was. I would have done. I never meant to call you Mudblood, it just –” “Slipped out?” There was no pity in Lily’s voice.”

To make amends for what you did — I’m not even going to deepen my argument on this one, it’s clear he didn’t. Not when he hurt Petunia, not when he hurt Lily, not when he hurt anyone really, the only exception being him protection Harry after telling Voldemort about the prophecy, but that’s not overcoming any patterns here, which brings me to my next point:

To accept the boundaries that you put in place as they’re on the path to earn forgiveness — which Snape also doesn’t, as exemplified in this excerpt of The Prince’s Tale:

The scene changed… “I’m sorry.” “I’m not interested.” “I’m sorry!” “Save your breath” It was nighttime. Lily, who was wearing a dressing gown, stood with her arms folded in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady, at the entrance to Gryffindor Tower. “I only came out because Mary told me you were threatening to sleep here.” “I was. I would have done. I never meant to call you Mudblood, it just –”

It’s very important to understand here that Snape doesn’t respect Lily’s boundaries of not wanting to talk to him after he called her a slur, which is also a sign of not being in a path to earn forgiveness. And forgiveness must be earned: no amount of trauma explaining our actions actually counts as an excuse for our behavior. It can explain it and thus, making forgiveness easier to achieve, but trauma doesn’t change the fact that we are responsible for our own choices and acts throughout our lives, and if we hurt someone, we have a responsibility to be accountable and make amends.

So okay, we’ve stablished that Snape has some heavy trauma to work through but that doesn’t mean he’s not liable for his own actions. Now, what we need to understand is his relationship with the Marauders. That’s a much more complicated theme, which will bring me back to Rowling and her point of view of things and how they impact her narrative and the way things are portrayed in the books.

The first thing we need to notice is that Rowling doesn’t seem much preoccupied with portraying bullying in a responsible way throughout the series. It’s clear that many of the comedic reliefs we have — especially in the form of Fred and George — are bullies in the modern, more “strict” way of seeing children’s behavior: their acts not only can be considered humiliating for some (such as Neville and other side characters in the books) but also downright cruel or dangerous. So it’s clear by her account on other similar relationships portrayed in the books that Rowling didn’t consider what Snape and the Marauders had as a bully/victim relationship.

That can be because of her age, or because of the character’s age even (they were in the 90s after all), or even a mix of both reasons, but the fact remains that she didn’t view it as bullying, so anything she writes about it will be a gross exaggeration of what she considers child rivalry. It’s one of the reasons I have the icks when anyone starts asking her for a book on the Marauders because I just know she’d butcher her way into their stories, to be completely honest.

Unfortunately, this also means it’s how Snape views it all — as something that happens between children (not saying that it didn’t cause trauma, just that he doesn’t see it as a trauma) which makes him even back up the people who do the same when he becomes a teacher, such as Malfoy and his friends. My point is that, in the building of Snape’s character, his problem with what the Marauders used to do to him wasn’t what they did but rather that they did it with him, someone Snape viewed as undeserving of it, as opposed to when someone who did deserve — such as muggleborns — were the target of said treatment:

“We are, Sev, but I don’t like some of the people you’re hanging round with! I’m sorry, but I detest Avery and Mulciber! Mulciber! What do you see in him, Sev, he’s creepy! D’you know what he tried to do to Mary Macdonald the other day?” Lily had reached a pillar and leaned against it, looking up into the thin, sallow face. “That was nothing,” said Snape. “It was a laugh, that’s all –” “It was Dark Magic, and if you think that’s funny –”

So the problem in the end wasn’t the Marauder’s behavior but their target — which, of course, was him.

But the origin of the Marauder’s dislike for Snape at that point ran deep and very intricately: there was a lot of reason why we could attribute to their hatred for each other, such as house rivalry, Snape’s fixation on Remus’ secret, James’ jealousy for Lily and Snape’s friendship, Snape’s inclination for dark magic and supremacist views, Sirius overcompensation for being raised in such a prejudiced environment and as such becoming a little too aggressive about it, and many other reasons. The point is, there was a meddle of everything by the time we reach SWM.

So their relationship is just as intricate and difficult to entangle. I’m not saying here that any of my analysis exempts the Marauders from what they did — it was serious and bad and something that shouldn’t have happened at all regardless of how I feel about Snape. But as I try to analyze Snape’s character in the books, I need to be very careful on how to approach this: my morals and interpretations of what happened shouldn’t come first to what Snape’s viewed at the moment and what he took from this. So at last, what I’m saying is: as much as I know that was some hard bullying going on there, Snape didn’t see it that way, either because Rowling herself couldn’t see it that way and because the time and the time’s belief’s system wouldn’t allow him to.

Anyway, if we take any only the facts, we have — James attacked Snape sometime after Snape tried to catch Remus in the Shrieking Shack, Snape also instigated fights with James, Snape and his friends also bullied muggleborns and blood traitor — it becomes very clear that we need to balance power relations very carefully here:

On the very top, we have supremacist purebloods, which are the most privileged social group at the time, which would include people like Lucius, Bellatrix, the Lestrange brothers, most of the Blacks, and others. Then, right below, we’d have purebloods who didn’t believe in blood purity, such as Sirius, the Potters (James specially), the Weasleys, the Prewetts, the Longbottoms and others. Plus, the more I consider the wizarding world of that time, the more I realize how close halfbloods who adhered to the purist cause had a place in society that rivaled the same importance with purebloods who were considered blood traitors, sometimes ranking even higher depending on the environment or situation.

Just to be entirely clear: when I say halfbloods, I’m not only talking about those whose heritage are certain (children of muggleborns or muggles with purebloods) but also to those whose heritage couldn’t be drawn back. For example, the Sacred Twenty-Eight, the account of all pureblooded families in Great Britain, is admittedly an incomplete and slightly biased and unreliable source. They didn’t list the Potters as purebloods, for example, solely on the account of, whilst the family didn’t have any muggle relatives, there were enough muggles with the last name Potter that they weren’t sure about the family’s heritage. So it’s fair to assume a lot of people we’d been presented to as halfbloods could be pureblood familys whose heritage was slightly questioned. So yes, I’d put halfbloods who stood with blood supremacy as just as privileged as a pureblood who sided against it because of all this background. Then, we have halfbloods who didn’t approve of pureblood supremacy, muggleborns, then muggles.

It’s quite understandable by the books that, while in SWM, Snape was in a clear place of power imbalance in relation to the Marauders, the truth wasn’t always this. Mulciber and Avery are quoted as the closest to Snape (and we know very well what they’ve become after school), and although I found nothing in regards to the Mulciber family, the Averys were purebloods, so I have to place Snape as being just as privileged as the Marauders within normal (normal, not exceptional) school social dynamics in relation to blood. Of course that wasn’t truth to every power dynamic presented within the Harry Potter world, such as the Slytherin conundrum for example.

Okay, I’ll be honest with you guys here: I feel like the imbalance people accuse the adults of Harry Potter of having is grossly exaggerated sometimes. Yes, Slytherin was in disadvantage in relation to other houses, and it was looked upon by them, but the point is: ancient pureblooded families, especially the ones who were knee deep in supremacist ideology, often favored Slytherin, that is a fact.

Regardless of it been productive or not, the most blood supremacists within the house, the more we’d get comments and actions against muggleborns within school grounds that would inevitably be punished by the taking of points (and by the way, Snape was not helping congratulating Draco for his own bigotry instead of rewarding Slytherins who were actually interested in studying and working hard on their grades).

Plus, Gryffindor is the house of the protagonist — of course it’ll gain some privileges for that. If it was Ravenclawn, we’d be discussing this issue with Slytherin versus Ravenclawn points. It makes no sense accusing other of having biases like that because it’s obvious we’d have this kind of biases exactly for the plain reason it’s the protagonist’s house.

Anyway, I digress: because of the points I just made about it, the Slytherin versus Gryffindor rivalry is not enough to grant James and the others such a significative upper hand on their privilege in relation to Snape, although I would argue that Snape’s pre-existing bigotry did him no favors in the adults’ eyes on that matter, so it may have.

Now, why am I focusing on that? Because it’s clear to me that, while James and the others had a clear upper hand on their treatment of Snape in Snape’s Worst Memory, it’s not so clear as people seem to believe what the picture looked like the rest of the time. And of course, I do understand that it seems very much cemented on everyone’s minds that the configuration of the Marauders and Snape relationship was always the one we see in Snape’s Worst Memory, but that’s not completely truth and there are hints of it since the fifth book:

When Sirius said James wasn’t the only one to initiate fights, when he said Snape was always trying to sneak up on James, when we learn of the spells Snape had invented as a teenager (we can half-confidently say they were for the Marauders considering Snape’s trying to use Sectumsempra on James, but not limited to them, of course), when we get to know that Snape was “always trying” to prove that Remus was a werewolf to get him expelled, among other moments.  The truth is, as much as I would like to point out the Marauders were not so bad, I can’t say this with certainty, but Snape apologists can’t say for certain they know fully the dynamics of their relationship either because even when the Marauders weren’t good people, they can’t say Snape was only a victim as well.

Or at least, they can’t say that he was the kind of victim who didn’t victimized people just like he was victimized too. And that’s probably even more reason why I dislike him, but I’ll get there. What I do know is that Snape, for his supremacist views alone, was doing a lot worse than what the Marauders were doing as teens. I’m sorry, it’s true: as much as I despise bullying, I can’t get over the fact that Snape was the equivalent of a Hitler youth child soldier in the wizarding world when he was a teenager. I’d punch him myself if I was his classmate, to be honest. Hatred aside, however, I do understand that what the Marauders did had little to nothing to do with supremacist views and all to do with being idiots, so yeah, fuck them. I’m not here to defend the Marauders anyway, just to condemn Snape (which, surprise, surprise, it’s actually possible).

Now, I dread having to go there, to be honest, but I want to talk to you guys about Snapes’ feelings for Lily. I’ve read the most grotesque and misogynistic things I’ve ever read in my life scrolling through Snape stans posts and let’s be honest here: Lily and Snape’s relationship was so toxic I would come back healthier if I went to Chernobyl than going anywhere near them together — because of Severus — and it’s actually appalling that some people doesn’t seem to think so. I’m sorry, but all the signs of classical emotional abuse signs are right there, just in the Prince’s Tale:

Belittling and constant criticism — I’m sorry, but his behavior alone says everything: you can’t treat muggleborns like they’re trash and then try to convince your muggleborn best-friend they she’s not. The belittling is in his actions. And then there’s the fact that Snape brings up accusations of Lily liking James more than once as a form of criticism as well (because neither have a good opinion of James, which is fair, but it’s still veiled criticism of Lily). Plus, his belittling of Lily’s feeling over Petunia’s hatred of her is obvious:

“I don’t want to talk to you,” she said in a constricted voice. “Why not?” “Tuney h-hates me. Because we saw that letter from Dumbledore.” “So what?” She threw him a look of deep dislike. “So she’s my sister!” “She’s only a – ” He caught himself quickly; Lily, too busy trying to wipe her eyes without being noticed, did not hear him.”

Gaslighting and controlling tendencies — when he tries to convince Lily he didn’t use magic to hurt Petunia with the tree branch, or when he questions their friendship because she’s trying to make a constructive critic of his life choices (“I thought we’re supposed to be friends?... Best friends?”), or when he tries to dictate who she’ll be friends with (when they’re discussing his own friends by the way). Even if Lily doesn’t let him, doesn’t mean it’s not abusive.

Isolation of loved ones — Constantly belittling Petunia, setting Lily and himself as above her because of their magic, convincing Lily to invade Petunia’s privacy thus isolating her further, causing rifts between Lily’s friends in Gryffindor and her because of his supremacist tendencies…

Jealousy and Possessiveness — I do think this one is self-explanatory.

Humiliation and Shaming — I also believe this one is also self-explanatory.

Unpredictable or Inconsistent Behavior — This is perfectly exemplified by their conversation when Lily is pointing out about his friends’ bad influence on him. We can see perfectly how inconsistent Snape’s behavior is, jumping from deflecting his accountability, downplaying his own bad deeds, to possessiveness and jealousy over absolutely nothing Lily has ever referenced to (try not to read what they’re saying but instead just concentrate at how abruptly Snape goes from one to the other):

“…thought we were supposed to be friends?” Snape was saying, “Best friends?” “We are, Sev, but I don’t like some of the people you’re hanging round with! I’m sorry, but I detest Avery and Mulciber! Mulciber! What do you see in him, Sev, ’s creepy! D’you know what he tried to do to Mary Macdonald the other day?” Lily had reached a pillar and leaned against it, looking up into the thin, sallow face. “That was nothing,” said Snape. “It was a laugh, that’s all – ” “It was Dark Magic, and if you think that’s funny – ” “What about the stuff Potter and his mates get up to?” demanded Snape. His color rose again as he said it, unable, it seemed, to hold in his resentment. “What’s Potter got to do with anything?” said Lily. “They sneak out at night. There’s something weird about that Lupin. Where does he keep going?” “He’s ill,” said Lily. “They say he’s ill – ” “Every month at the full moon?” said Snape. “I know your theory,” said Lily, and she sounded cold. “Why are you so obsessed with them anyway? Why do you care what they’re doing at night?” “I’m just trying to show you they’re not as wonderful as everyone seems to think they are.” The intensity of his gaze made her blush. “They don’t use Dark Magic, though.” She dropped her voice. “And you’re being really ungrateful. I heard what happened the other night. You went sneaking down that tunnel by the Whomping Willow, and James Potter saved you from whatever’s down there – ” Snape’s whole face contorted and he spluttered, “Saved? Saved? You think he was playing the hero? He was saving his neck and his friends’ too! You’re not going to – I won’t let you – ” “Let me? Let me?” Lily’s bright green eyes were slits. Snape backtracked at once. “I didn’t m ean – I just don’t want to see you made a fool of – He fancies you, James Potter fancies you!” The words seemed wrenched from him against his will. “And he’s not…everyone thinks…big Quidditch hero – ” Snape’s bitterness and dislike were rendering him incoherent, and Lily’s eyebrows were traveling farther and farther up her forehead. “I know James Potter’s an arrogant toerag,” she said, cutting across Snape. “I don’t need you to tell me that. But Mulciber’s and Avery’s idea of humor is just evil. Evil, Sev. I don’t understand how you can be friends with them.” Harry doubted that Snape had even heard her strictures on Mulciber and Avery. The moment she had insulted James Potter, his whole body had relaxed, and as they walked away there was a new spring in Snape’s step…

There’s also the fact that their friendship began in a relation of power that met its inevitable demise once those specific conditions tumbled down: when Snape met Lily, he was all the source she had about the wizarding world, he was her only link to that part of herself she felt was so different from anyone else. Once Lily arrived at Hogwarts, this dependance quickly came to an end with Lily spreading her wings, which probably also took a heavy tool on their relationship because its foundation was already fragile to begin with.

However, I’m not saying here that Snape was this evil mastermind at nine years old he managed to consciously ensnare Lily into this emotionally abusive relationship all by his astute manipulation. Snape was a child of abuse and neglect and, as such, he never learned how to properly bond and stablish healthy relationships. Much like the child starved by love he was, Snape probably saw every and any other relationship Lily had as a threat to their own relationship, because he doesn’t know love is not finite — he doesn’t know love stretches to accommodate other people with the time. It’s not unreasonable for me to read their relationship as such, although I’m sure that wasn’t JK Rowling’s intentions when she wrote HP, in fact it’s more than possible to admit their friendship sucked even when Snape remembered it so fondly.

As a person who actually went through an emotionally abusive relationship, I can tell how exhausting it is to carry this person along and make up excuses for everyone around you who can clearly see that this friendship sucks but doesn’t want to tell you because it might make things worse. Specially if I’m talking about someone who believes the way you were born makes you inferior in some way, that shit really hurts even when they say you’re different because deep down, you know you’re not. Deep down, you know that you’re the exception over some crooked perception you somehow beat the odds of an inferior condition and that’s what makes you “special”. And it’s gross just to think about it.

Okay, so now I think I analyzed everything about Snape I’ve wanted to analyze, so I’ll end here my enormous rant about him and if there’s anything else I want to talk about when this starts to get hate, I’ll probably post a part two.

Bye, guys!

[ideasarestuckinmyhead]

Short story with teenage Casper protecting Charlie from bullies- (I live for childhood content of these two)

Teenage dirt bags!

Charlie wasn't a very happy camper. This morning he woke up late and couldn't eat breakfast. The blonde even missed the fucking bus and had to run to school. So his morning wasn't so good right now.

"Oh look! It's the scrawny fuck." Mocking, a loud voice was heard through the hall. The few people in it to go to their next class were looking at Jacob MacQuoid, one of the many jocks in the school. This made the few people left rush away not wanting to get involved in this.

"You look like a fucking skeleton!! What your so poor you can't buy food to eat?" Another more annoying voice was heard. Brock Sallow, a friend of Jacob stepped by the curly haired boy, who was looking down at the shorter boy.

Charlie sighed as he held his backpack straps, he really didn't want to deal with these two right now. Opening his mouth to say something he was shoved into a locker. Brock was holding him against the hard metal, it gave Charlie goosebumps how cold it was while Jacob leaned down.

"You know, when's the last time we hurt you?....Oh yeah, a few months ago because like a rat..." Spitting out the insult, Jacob punched Charlie's stomach, causing him to groan at how hard it was. "...You snitched to your stupid bitch of a friend! I had a black eye for a week!" Growling out the curly haired boy scowled at Charlie.

Brock snorted at what his friend said and got smacked upside the head, causing him to let go of Charlie. Who, took this opportunity to scurry behind who hit Brock, sighing in relief seeing Casper with a death glare.

"What? Wanna another one MacQuoid? That can be arranged meathead!" Speaking harshly. Casper then looked at Charlie, how he was holding his stomach and turned to Jacob. "I'm going to fuck you up!"

Shooting forward Casper sucker punched the jock, causing the curly haired boy to stagger back. Nursing his now bruised cheek and glared at Casper, Brock tried to grab them from behind but charlie was opening his backpack and grabbed a textbook out.

"Fuck you!" Shouting loudly, making Brock turn and get knocked out. Charlie help the textbook high in case Brock got up again, but the black haired boy was knocked out.

"Ouch! That gotta hurt." Snorting Casper laughed seeing the other jock on the floor. Jacob huffed angrily seeing his duo out, using Casper turned a bit form him swung his arm and punched the left side of their face.

"FUCKING BITCH!" Screaming at them, Jacob saw Casper about to stand but then a shrill voice was heard.

"JACOB MACQUOID!? WHAT ON EARTH ARE YOU DOING?!" All three snapped their head's behind Charlie. The blonde thanked what ever God's above that Mrs. Willows was the one roaming the halls today.

"I-I was just um-" Scrambling to make an excuse, Jacob was hushed by Mrs. Willows.

"No! We are going to the principal's office now! All tree of you! Oh my god is that Brock on the floor?!" The older woman gasped seeing him knocked out. Then saw Charlie, the blonde cursed in his head for not putting the text book away.

And now here they are, in the nurse's office watching the two jocks get yelled at. Casper has a ice pack on their face glaring at Jacob, who was doing the same thing to them. Charlie was given ibuprofen for the pain and was told to lay down while his mother gets contacted.

"When has this school EVER tolerated bullying for you to think you could beat up someone?!" Sternly saying the principal Mr. Gridlock scowled at the boys. Brock was looking down and Jacob finally turned his head to the older man.

"We were just pl-" The white lie couldn't fix this. Mr. Gridlock held up a hand and looked a the nurse.

"Contact Mr. MacQuoid and Mr. Sallow's parent's. They will be suspended for five days." Those words sealed a coffin as the two jocks tried to say there was a game tomorrow and they needed to be there.

"You should have thought about that when you decided to bully Charlie. Now we're going to a different room, come." Escorting the boys out after getting their treatment, the other two int he nurse's office looked at each other. There was silence besides the nurse typing away calling the parent's.

"Wow, they actually got in trouble. Good, fuckers deserve it. Wonder if I can get my dad to convince coach to kick them off- OOF-" Casper's words were cut off by Charlie hugging them. They looked at him and smiled before returning it.

"Your so cool Casper. Thanks for always being there." Whispering Charlie felt Casper ruffle his hair. Looking up his heart skipped a beat seeing their smile.

"Duh stupid, your my friend." Casper laughed lightly as they turned their head. Also my crush....Shaking their head slightly Casper looked at the clock and then the nurse. "Mrs. Astor can we leave? The bell's gonna ring."

Turning around the nurse nodded at them and both left quickly. Leaving the main office Casper smiled at Charlie then rushed off to the left. Charlie stood there, looking as Casper rushed to their next class across campus. He really wishes he could have told them he loved them right there.

[dcdreamblog]

Hi, I know your field of study is more focused on the WWII era of superheroics, but I got a question about the 1980s.

My dad recently told me about the time he met the Teen Titans in school because of some Reagan era Anti-Drug thing like DARE and putting the complicated politics of the War on Drugs aside something unusual caught my eye.

He had a picture of him meeting the Titans and among the usual suspects like Starfire or Raven the picture featured a hero I never seen before.

At first I through it was Robin, but no it was a guy in a blue (purple?) costume with red accents who my dad said was the leader of the team.

He sadly can't remember his name, so I wanted to ask if you could clear this up for me.

Who was that guy and what happened to him?

That's amazing as far as heirlooms go, I hope your dad treasures those.

The Titans actually did shows like that all over the country in relation to the "Presidential Drug Awareness Campaign" but like you said there was a very obvious wrinkle in the lineup

(Poster distributed to schools around the country, circa 1983) The man in purple up at front is a hero by the name of "The Protector". Most of you are scratching your heads. If you are a native of certain parts of San Fransisco you are pumping your fist in the air. San Fran has a lot of superheroes that call it home but The Protector is known for one thing and one thing only: He's the illegal drug trade's worst nightmare. He's taken on seemingly untouchable gangsters and even pharmaceutical companies and has really become the face of those fighting addiction in the city. As for "What happened to him":

During his early days he was criticized for having that hard edged DARE, no tolerance on drugs attitude but these days he's mostly known as a friend to the addicts of the city and a supporter of places like clean injection sites and needle exchanges.

He's even gotten into more than a few high profile dust ups with the SFPD over excessive force in raids or encampment clearings. As far as I know as of right now he's still doing what he does best in the Golden Gate City. People from the area can sound off in the comments of course.

(Graffiti mark of Protector on a needle exchange in San Francisco's Tenderloin neighborhood, this mark is used to denote that a building is under his "protection") It's hard to know WHY Robin wasn't there for this. Some people have theorized that it was to keep him out of the public eye on Batman's orders but I don't know that I buy that, the lanes of communication between the two during this time period didn't seem that one sided. Personally I think Robin just stepped aside to give the floor to someone who had more specialized knowledge on the subject

[bugtoonz]

hii!! what headcanons do u have for the moonbase trio (362, 86, and 60)?

i always thought it was funny they were called the moonbase trio, bc isn’t patton stationed in like antarctica lol? anyways they’re super fun and i’m excited to talk about them!

for Rachel, i 1000% believe that girl lives on coffee. i know it’s like the equivalent of cocaine in the knd universe, but there’s no way she runs a worldwide organization of kids and isn’t majorly dependent on caffeine. that being said, since she’s also one of those said kids, she definitely piles it high with sugar and creamer. the sugar intake is probably worse for her than the coffee part😭 i also feel like she’s pretty tall. like especially now since she’s young, but even when she gets older i can see her being above average height. it’s definitely something she appreciates because it makes it easy to look down at people disapprovingly when they go against her orders. also, her and chad used to be super close. he was basically her older brother and the one that introduced her to nigel. since she’s soopreme leader, she’s aware of the teens next door, but Chad became somewhat distant after his fake-betrayal, and it’s something that really hurt her.

for Fanny, this is kind of random, but she’s definitely the kind of girl that reads fairy books about friendship and girlhood. she tries to apply what she reads to her real life, but for some reason it’s a lot harder for her to be kind and understanding than it is for Princess Sparklewand of Fairylandia. i also think that the reason she has an irish accent, despite having grown up in the same town as Sector V is because her parents are divorced, and she splits her time between Mr. Boss in Vermont and her mom in Ireland. it’s easy to do both when you own your own spaceship/aircraft/boat. her and her brothers all have her mother’s last name because she refused to change it when she married Mr. Boss and also refused to give her children his surname because she’s the one who had to give birth! it’s no wonder fanny is the way she is. her little brothers spend more time with her dad, though, which is why their accents are american. as much as Fanny bullies them, she’ll bully whoever tries to do the same to them 500x harder. she’s very protective of the people she loves.

i think Patton is really funny. he’s a total hard-ass that knows the KND rule book like the back of his hand, but also a total softie when it comes to his cadets. i feel like he’s from alaska. he seems rugged enough to be able to live there. i also feel like all of his time spent in freezing cold climates means that a trip below the equator might actually make him melt. Fanny doesn’t let him stand to close to her at the beach because she’s worried he’ll get his gross boy sweat all over her. Patton is also, like, super awkward outside of the work setting. someone get this poor boy an etiquette manual or something!! it’s not his fault he spends all of his time running drills and locking up villains. a lot of operatives avoid him because they always think he’s mad, but that’s just how he talks. he gets really confused when he tries to say hi to someone and they run away crying.

as for like their relationships with each other, Fanny has a huge, massive crush on Rachel that the latter is oblivious to. Rachel in turn sees Fanny as one of her closest friends, but also thinks she could maybe take a chill pill sometimes. Fanny and Patton have a sometimes-not-so-friendly rivalry with each other over which one’s the toughest out of the two. that being said, Patton is one of the few boys Fanny will tolerate, mostly because of his similar no-nonsense approach to work. Patton and Rachel are also good friends, and Patton has a lot of respect for her. when Rachel stepped up as Soopreme Leader, he was the first to back her campaign. Rachel likes Patton a lot, but he also needs a chill pill. it’s okay though, she loves her neurotic besties. (birds of a feather and all that)

[some-pers0n]

Back on my Peril ramblings again guys

Peril is a character with a lot of polarizing opinions. You've got some people who love her to death, while others who, well, don't. The people who dislike her will go about how she's obsessive. Too clingy and relies far too much on Clay. That or go on about how she's just rude, mean, dangerous, and overall kind of a bad person. I...couldn't disagree more if I'll be blunt.

For starters, Peril is in a difficult situation. She was molded and shaped by her childhood. What she is now is a product of being raised as a living weapon. She was seen as being dangerous and a blight on dragon society. A hazard that, at any moment, could kill somebody. She is danger. She is peril.

Scarlet took hold of that. Scarlet manipulated this tiny dragonet that she stole away from her mother and raised her, feeding her lies in order to keep her docile and dependent. She was never alone. Never to act on her own accord. Anything she did was first of all approved by Scarlet, somebody she trusted and loved in a way. All Peril ever knew was hate and fear, so a dragon showing her any other emotions felt like love.

Peril is...unstable to say the very least. Like I just said, she's got a warped sense of relationships due to her upbringing. She has literally nobody outside the walls of the SkyWing palace. She clings to those she deems as friends and loved ones as she knows nothing else. She craves that feeling of love and especially touch. She has never known the love of a mother's hug. She has never felt the wings of a friend comforting her in a time of crisis. She only wants to be held and loved, but she cannot. She was born wrong. She is unlovable in her eyes. That's what everyone tells her at least.

It's when Clay comes along that things change. For once, she's seeing a dragon who, while still kinda scared of her...is respectful. He holds conversations with her. He's nice, friendly, and when she hears that he tried killing his troop, she immediately relates. It's one of those things that I feel Sick about, where in Clay and Peril both are deemed to be monsters since the moment they hatched when in reality they weren't at fault for anything. Clay and Peril are so good when you actually treat them like characters.

The point is that Peril sees herself in Clay. For the first time ever, she finds a dragon like her. A dragon that at the very least tolerates her. After years of abuse and being shunned and seen as nothing more than a monster, it's basically like Clay is giving her a boquete of roses and confessing his undying love.

She becomes obsessed, even more so when she's eventually free from Scarlet, but that comes later. She holds him to such high regards and views him as a dragon she wants to be around. She's easily jealous when other dragons talk to him. She's protective and constantly wants to be near him. She adores him.

Yada yada, the whole fight scene happens between her and Clay. Scarlet notices that Peril is rather fond of Clay and is using her emotions to manipulate her further. Again, Scarlet is extremely manipulative of Peril. She's the one who molded her into this. She's the one who was responsible for this. She's the one who made Peril feel as though all she could ever be in life was a murder machine, and that Scarlet was doing her a favour by letting that be her existence as opposed to killing her. Scarlet made Peril dependent on her.

So when she's gone...Peril feels lost. She feels like she's the blame for one of the very, very few dragons in her life that at least cared about her being gone. Now she's alone and seen once again as a creep. A weirdo. She doesn't belong here, not in the Sky Kingdom. Osprey is dead (another example of Scarlet toying with Peril's emotions cause the one time she acts out she has to suffer for it) and she's just tossed into the world without warning.

She in turn seeks out Scarlet, eventually finding her. Despite all of the abuse and suffering that Scarlet has put her through, she has nobody else. Scarlet's twisted and distorted love is the only thing she knows. She feels guilty for everything that happened to her.

I think it's easy for people to not really understand Peril if they don't really get her situation. What I lay it out, it sounds pretty easy to understand. Peril is a deeply traumatized and abused character who is shaped by her trauma and struggles to exist in this world as she only knows to kill. She's trying to unlearn all of this. She wants to be better. She's trying to be better.

That's what Escaping Peril is all about: Peril's recovery.

Escaping Peril is the conclusion to Peril's arc, with her coming to grips and terms with her trauma and by the end realizing that she is her own person. Over the course of the book, she struggles a lot. She goes back and forth on her feelings with Scarlet, conflicted on whether she loves her or wants to kill her. Perhaps both at the same time. It's messy and she feels lost and hopeless.

The only real thing that seems to be a beacon of light in her life is Clay, whom is basically not even in this book. Clay is her moral compass here. Anything she does has to be something she believes Clay would approve of. She's doing the exact same thing that she's done for years with Scarlet because, yet again, it's literally the only thing she knows. She is a deeply hurt character who struggles with the whole morality thing because ever since she was a dragonet she's been a child solider. She's trying to unlearn it all.

Which is helped significantly with her friends, namely Turtle. She isn't alone. She has a group of dragons who care for her and like her the way she is. Again, the themes of friendship and togetherness is a very strong one in this arc. The Jade Winglet learn how to be themselves and how they don't need to pretend to be somebody they aren't with a group of dragons who love them for who they are.

Peril...learns. She learns. She grows. I cannot emphasize this enough since some of you guys still don't get that part. Her character shifts and changes and develops over the course of this book. She learns that she doesn't need to depend on somebody for her own actions. Hell, by the end of the book, she burns the scroll of her own volition, knowing fully well that Clay would've hated that. She's acting of her own accord. She learns that she's not a monster and doesn't need to have her flamescales be repressed to be liked.

She's a deeply traumatized character who is trying to get better. She has been getting better, and she will only get better with time. She's happy now. She's happy with her friends and loved ones. Everything will be okay.

[margindoodles2407]

You guys were asking for the Fives And Echo Dissertation so here it is. Courtesy of @seeking-elsewhither, who first asked the question, "Do you think Fives or Echo is older?" and then patiently listened as things got out of hand.

(Author's note: this is written in my own sort of weird style, where I have a point to prove but to prove it I use almost a kind of narrative style. A great previous example of this is The Crosshair Dissertation, which I published whilst watching The Bad Batch. I hope this style doesn't throw anyone off. Thank you for your time.)

@whyoneartheven You may be interested in this and @kitty-i-swear-to-gosh I know you asked me where the thesis was so I'm tagging you. I hope you don't mind :)

Tube twins are incredibly rare within the ranks of the GAR. Very few of them survive gestation due to lack of nutrients or other complications, and the few that do are often… taken care of by the Kaminoan scientists. The reason for this is that (based on prior tests and research) tube twins, more than any other clones, have a tendency to become dangerously codependent. They will often prioritize their twin over the rest of their squad, which means missions get failed and battles are lost. And Force forbid a pair of twins get separated, whether it be through simple reassignment or, worse, death- it can cause severe mental depletion to the point of a psychosomatic response, a full-on breakdown, and too many other problems to count.

Neither Fives nor Echo knows the real reason they were allowed to survive. They both doubt it was a show of mercy on the parts of the Kaminoans, and even less likely is the idea that they somehow slipped through the radar unnoticed. They agree, though, that it's better not to pry. For their own sake.

Now, with this knowledge in mind: let's examine the fact that, in my mind, Fives is the elder twin. To make sense of this, you may need to take a brief refresher on my characterization of Fives. He's a silly guy, yes, and we love him for it. He also takes responsibility incredibly seriously, he does NOT tolerate those who abuse their positions of authority, when he sets his mind to something only the Force itself could possibly hope to stop him, and he is willing to literally fight and die for the people he loves.

Now, Fives is not the eldest of his vode. He has Hevy, Cutup and Droidbait ahead of him, and only Echo directly under his care. Echo his twin, Echo his closest brother, his best friend, his confidant, his better half.

And he, Fives, is his older brother.

On Kamino, he keeps his head down, as much as deep in his soul he wants to lash out against the Kaminoans and their standards of genetic purity, because if he were to act out on Kamino he could get himself and his entire squad in trouble. And he has a responsibility not to do that. But he also has a responsibility to protect them- ESPECIALLY ECHO- in other ways.

He… becomes a little bit overprotective of Echo. He has a tendency to constantly pull "older brother status", but he's not doing it out of a sense of inflated ego or superiority, he's doing it out of a genuine sense of duty. He's doing it because he knows the danger tube twins are in, the fact that most of their twin brothers died as tubies or newborns. He's doing it because he knows Kamino is a harsh world, a dangerous world, a world of scientists so pragmatic that they speak of human beings as "units" and discard anyone who doesn't measure up to their standard of genetic perfection. He's doing it because he loves Echo, he loves his brother more than anything in the galaxy and he genuinely wants him to be safe. But Echo, especially as a cadet, doesn't fully understand this. And he does resent Fives, just a little bit (mostly as a cadet), because in his mind Fives is only being needlessly overprotective. He feels that Fives won't let him fight his own battles, he feels that Fives thinks that he's weak and incapable just because he's the youngest and the younger TWIN and the straight-laced rule-follower who would never willingly go seeking out a fight. As cadets, they get into a LOT of arguments about this, and it's not until right before their graduation that they both finally seem to fully understand each other.

Now-- the Kaminoans are absolutely not justified in their termination of tube twins. But they aren't exactly wrong about the dangers of codependency. Especially after the Rishi Moon, Fives and Echo really feel like it's them against the galaxy. That's not that they don't love and care for their other brethren, but they begin to cling to each other in somehow an even more intense way than they did as cadets and as shinies. It's a good thing they both end up going to the 501st, they both end up in Torrent Company, they both enter ARC Training and both graduate ARC Training. It's a good thing they're assigned on the same missions. Rex and Anakin recognize that they do seem to work best as a team, their movements seem to be in tandem and it's almost as if they can communicate between each other without saying anything, which makes them both utterly fascinating to watch and entirely lethal on the battlefield.

So of course it's only natural to assign them both to the Citadel mission.

Such a shame no one knew there was a bomb in that shuttle.

Fives spends the next few weeks after the incident completely out of it. He's a sobbing, hysterical, sleep-deprived mess, and everyone begins to wonder if the stories about separated tube twins having broken minds are true. But Fives is not a fragile man. He's devastated, he's lost the person he loves most in all the world, he's experienced the worst tragedy in his short life… but he also knows that he has a responsibility. To his Captain, to his Company, to his brothers. So he pulls himself together and goes back to war. But there's something markedly different about him after the Citadel. He's still warm and friendly and kind, but he's not as quick to smile. He's slower to laugh. His gaze holds a kind of sadness and emptiness to it that brothers unfamiliar with the story of his life don't fully understand. (Even the ones who are familiar don't fully understand. Only the Captain, and the men who were at the Citadel, really get it, and even then… none of them had a twin.)

When he first meets Tup and Dogma, they kind of remind him of the old days. They aren't twins, but they share such an incredibly close bond that they could be. He sees a lot of himself in Tup. He sees even more of Echo in Dogma, which is why the whole debacle with Krell breaks his heart so much. (People ask him if he hates Dogma, for everything he did. For trying to execute him. Fives always looks them hard in the face and simply responds, in clipped tones, "No, of course not. How could I hate my brother?" The recipients hardly wonder if his words might have a double meaning.)

He ends up taking Tup under his wing, the way Rex took him and Echo under his. (If Dogma had stayed in the 501st, he'd be there too.) And part of the reason they're such close friends is because of the way that Fives sees so much of himself in his younger brother (and so much of Echo in Dogma). It's one of the reasons Fives fights so hard against the chips.

It's the reason that it's not just blasterfire that shatters his heart.

Echo is rescued from stasis a few weeks later. He doesn't ask where Fives is, not at first. There's the whole shock of getting off of Skako Minor, then there's the stress of the Battle of Anaxes, then there's the joining of an entirely new squad.

But he knows there was a reason, and not a good one, that the arms he woke up in were Rex's and not his twin's.

He finally works up the courage to ask the Captain where his brother is.

Rex tells him Fives is gone, and he screams.

He screams, horrible sobbing tears, because the one and only thing that kept him going through those years of horrible torture and pain and absolute agony was the fact that he HAD to stay alive, because he HAD to see Fives again. He HAD to get back to Fives his twin, Fives his closest brother, his best friend, his confidant, his better half.

Was everything he went through for nothing?

Should he have just… let himself die? On Skako Minor, should he have just… given up?

No. No, he tells himself, when he's finally calmed himself down (which is… not after a short period of time). That's not what Fives would want.

And that's why, when he has a chance to go with Rex, when he has a chance to go and finish what Fives started- rescue their vode from the prison in their own minds- he grabs it with hand and scomp and doesn't let go. He loves Clone Force 99, he loves Omega, he loves them all more than he's loved anyone since he was first separated from his brother.

But this… this is why he didn't die. This is why he didn't let himself give up. Rex told him the stories, the stories of Umbara and the tragedy of the Chips. And Echo knows that, if Fives were alive, he'd be right there too, fighting the Empire under its very nose.

How could he possibly do anything else?

(And, years and years and thousands of rescued Clones later, as he lays, an old man, struggling to take his final breaths, surrounded by his former Captain and the squad that took him in and the little girl with star-colored hair who has grown into such an incredible young woman-- out of the corner of his failing eyes he sees a bluish figure with unruly curls and warm, grinning eyes and a supernova smile, eternally twelve-twenty-four and crystal clear against the grey fuzz of everything else. And finally, it's the twin he lived his whole life in memory of who's the first to welcome him into the afterlife.)

[turbulentscrawl]

If I may ask, may you do general headcanons for emil, if not then just ignore this💜

Suuuuure can!

!Edited on 01/26/24 to add a few more small HCs!

Warning: Mentions of abuse (a lot)

-Emil’s health situation is as complicated as it is depressing. He suffers from chronic pain that’s a result of the years of abuse he’s endured—both in the dog fighting ring and in the asylum. Ironically, he’s got some of the highest pain tolerance out of all the survivors, but it’s difficult to tell when he’s I the middle of his worst days. (This pain tolerance is all psychological, however. A little something he developed as a defense mechanism.)

-Pain medicine does little for him now. He was on such high doses of opioids while in the middle of his shock and bloodletting treatments that they don’t help much anymore while also having dealt him some lasting issues like low blood pressure and brittle bones. This bone weakness, his parkour movements, and lowered sensitivity to pain mean he tends to suffer more severe injuries in matches than most.

-Emil’s communication skills have improved over the last few years, but he still struggles with writing and social cues. He’s used to the body language of dogs and angry men, so things like confident shoulders and direct eye contact make him nervous. If those behaviors are displayed towards Ada or another special person, he may become aggressive.

-In addition to his communication struggles, Emil’s emotions are also rather stunted; he often has disproportionate reactions to events and stimulus around himself. (He especially tends to under-react.) It’s very rare for Emil to cry or become genuinely angered. He spends most of his time with that pitiful, placating, resting smile and just letting the world whirl around him.

-Emil’s attachment to Ada mostly comes down to hers being the first truly kind hand he’s ever been offered. Despite any dubious motives, Ada does genuinely care about helping people, and at the time of meeting Emil she had not been a practicing physician long enough to be come jaded or careless. Other doctors did not spare Emil any sympathy because he was quiet and obedient, but Ada still gave him those. Her being in trouble is one of the few times this emotional reactions will be high—he’s terrified of losing his only source of comfort, and will become desperate and violent in order to keep her safe.

-Emil likes “being in a daze” because when he’s drugged up his constant pain is muffled. But he’s also less aware in general, and he’s so desperate for affection that he’s willing to forego the relief to be alert around Ada, or anyone else who dotes on him. Also similar to a dog, he’s fiercely loyal to Ada because she takes care of him. It’s not impossible for him to become attached to others too, but it will take time and repeat exposure to get over his protective urges. He’s more likely to get along with children and people Ada specifically introduces him to.

-Emil doesn’t have much preference in regards to food; he’s used to eating slop, scraps, and dog kibble. He does, however, like cakes because Ada always gave those to him as a “treat.” They represent another form of praise and affection to him. He prefers to eat with his hands than utensils—it hurts to try gripping those tiny things.

-Emil is afraid of dogs, and this unfortunately includes Wick. He and Victor don’t get along well because of how much the pup means to the Postman. He does seem to have some fondness for Ann’s cat, though.

-Most love languages work well for Emil, but Physical Touch and Words of Affirmation are his favorites to receive. (He rarely knows what to do with the gifts he’s given, however.) To give, he likes Acts of Service and Gift Giving. Emil loves to be touched gently, for any reason. Pet his hair, rub his back, massage his hands, he doesn’t care as long as you’re doing it with the intention of being loving and gentle. He even easily forgives missteps that aggravate his pre-existing pain. Uneducated as he is, Emil still knows what remorse looks like. The gifts he gives are rarely valuable in a monetary way, but he likes to share pretty things with the people he loves. A wire ring, a nice rock he found, the undamaged wings of a dead butterfly, you get the idea.

-Sexual abuse was among the abundance of mistreatment he suffered growing up. If and when Emil does engage in those sorts of activities, they require patience and a lot of communication to avoid triggering him. Ironically, he does better with those things when he’s NOT being regularly treated by Ada because the memories are buried too deep to crop up.

-Emil is somewhere between the ages of 25 and 28. As an adult, he grows facial hair, but he's not able to shave himself due to both a nervousness about knives and unsteady hands. Ada does it for him about once a week, and it's a time-consuming activity due to Emil needing regular reassurances.

-Another trait he's picked up from his canine company is "licking his wounds." And other people's if he cares about them enough. You've cut your finger? In his mouth it goes. Saliva does tend to promote healing to an extent, so most people let his behavior be.

[writeyouin]

Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) X Male-Reader - Sinless Sinners - Chapter 3

Chapter 3 - Learning To Get Along

A/N – So, a user on A03 suggested the snake servants’ new names. It was a stroke of genius on their behalf, and I can only thank them for it.

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

FEMALE VERSION HERE

GN VERSION HERE

Do you think you can manage that? Lucifer’s words hung in the air, creating an icy barrier between you.

So, Lucifer thought himself too good for low-life Sinners such as yourself. That wasn’t fair. Sinners might be in Hell for a reason, but sometimes such reasons were just fucking stupid. Heaven ought to base their entry requirements on a person’s character or strength of heart, not just their actions. You had met plenty of Sinners who were in Hell because of the most trivial shit.

There were those who liked to sleep around, but if sex positivity was a problem, then how did Heaven explain Angels like Adam, whom Charlie had told you about in excruciating detail. Lust shouldn’t have ever been considered a Sin, as long as all participants in any such carnal act were above age and consenting.

Then, there were a few murderers you knew. Granted, murder made the lines blurry, but some Sinners killed in self-defence, or only targeted others such as themselves, protecting the innocent in a very gruesome Dexter-like fashion. Were they really to be condemned? And who the fuck gave a damn about Sloth. So, some people were just bone idle, who gave a shit? Heaven apparently.

And now, the ruler of Hell was condemning those around him as well. He was supposed to care for his people, good or bad. Not to mention those who were solely created for or born in Hell, such as Imps, Hell-Hounds, or the Deadly Sins themselves; they hadn’t committed any crimes to get sent here originally – it was their home.

Your eyebrows furrowed, creating an annoyed crease along your forehead.

“No,” You told Lucifer, who stared at you incredulously.

No? Didn’t you understand the situation? He was Lucifer. King of Hell. He could destroy you with no effort spared, leaving no trace that you ever existed, and you were telling him no? He wasn’t an unreasonable guy, but how could you possibly think that being around him was a good idea? Did you respect Charlie more than you feared him? Granted, he didn’t go out much so few knew how powerful he was, but no other Sinner would dare deny him his wishes.

You saw the look he was giving you and decided to explain yourself.

“Look, I’m only here ‘cos Charlie thought it was a good idea, and if you genuinely hate me, I’ll go and you’ll never have to see me again, but you’re not even trying right now. You haven’t spoken to me. You don’t know anything about me, and frankly, I think Charlie’s right, you do need someone to talk to.”

“I don’t-” Lucifer started.

“You don’t even know why I’m down here,” You interrupted angrily, though you refrained from raising your voice. “And you don’t want to know, right? ‘Cos all of us filthy Sinners must be the same. Ooh, we squandered your gift of Free Will and now we deserve to suffer for eternity, do we? Grow up!”

Lucifer stared at you in astonishment, and you sighed, apparently not finished in your tirade, “I’m going to my room tonight, but tomorrow, I expect that you’ll at least try to tolerate me. Who knows? We might even find some common ground. We both love Charlie, don’t we?”

Lucifer didn’t know what to say to that. He certainly loved his daughter, more than anything else in the universe, but you? He still suspected that you had some kind of ulterior motive… everyone in Hell did. Yet, you had a point. He would do this for her, even if it meant he had to tolerate you.

Who were you, really?

He looked at you closely for the first time, trying to pick out some detail of who you might have been. It was even more disturbing than he previously thought. Before, he only saw a human. Now, he examined your clothes. There was little to say about the style, but your apparel was reminiscent of a Holy Animal. With the ruffled cuffs of your jacket, the way the back peaked to create the image of feathers, and the yellow ribbon that lined the white material, you looked like a dove.

Yet… Despite living in the Hazbin Hotel, Charlie had insisted that you didn’t seek redemption. Why go through the farce of dressing like an Angel then… unless? No, you couldn’t be. No Angel would dare stray from Heaven unless they were ordered to.

Lucifer held back a glower, trying to keep his emotions in check so you wouldn’t sense his thoughts. There was a possibility, though small that you had been sent by the likes of Adam to spy on Lucifer and his kin, ensuring that none of Charlie’s patrons ever found a way to the Pearly Gates.

Well, it wouldn’t take long to uncover your ruse. Lucifer had ways of telling an Angel from a Demon, and once you were asleep, he would know.

“Yeah,” Lucifer said evenly. “I love my Charlie.”

“So, you’ll try then.”

Lucifer nodded his head in consent.

“Okay, I’ll see you in the morning. Good night.”

The sentiment went unreturned as your King returned to his chambers, biding his time until you slept.

When you returned to your room, you got ready for bed. The day had been long and unusual. Honestly, you didn’t feel that you had a place in the manor, and you longed for your room in the Hotel, even if it was smaller, had a large stain on the carpet (which Nifty had named Vivienne) and an unruly infestation of roaches.

In the short time you had spent there, it had become home.

You would miss the arguing inhabitants, the energetic wake-up call from Charlie, the feeling of safety that Vaggie instilled, and the sound of Alastor’s morning and evening radio broadcasts. Yet, you hoped you might find something equally valuable in return if only Lucifer would open himself up to the possibility that you didn’t want anything from him.

After glancing out of your window, which had a balcony you could step out to if you so wished, you took in the whole of the Magne District which was the heart of Pentagram City. If you strained your eyes, you could just see the flashing neon of the Hazbin Hotel, and if you turned your gaze up… There was Heaven, out of reach yet always in sight, taunting most Sinners, yet emboldening a brave few who dared to wonder What If? What if they could change and gain admittance to a better life?

You sighed and dared not ponder further when you needed to get some sleep.

Throwing yourself on the plush bed, you got comfortable, arranging yourself how you liked, then leaning over to your bedside table, you blew out the cherry candle you had previously lit.

You rested your head atop the satin pillows, then frowned, feeling a lump beneath it. You reached under and pulled out a rubber duck, painted to look like a Hellhound-Duck hybrid. Assuming it was one of Charlie’s childhood toys, you placed it carefully atop the table; it would keep you company on your first night in a strange new place.

Lucifer waited till the late twilight hours before leaving his workshop. He transformed himself into a snake, slithering silently through the Hallways, ensuring that you wouldn’t hear him coming.

Before being cast out of Heaven, detecting an Angel would have been a simple task. He would just know, the way he now knew how to read a Demon. Yet, with you giving off little sign of Demonic energy, he now had to test if you were of Angelic origin. There were two ways he could do so. The first was by spilling your blood. Those who were born in or sent to Heaven had golden ichor instead of the oozing red or black goop of Hell-spawn and Sinners.

However, not wishing to alert you to his presence, Lucifer decided to opt for the other method.

Once he was inside your room and certain that you were in a deep slumber, he reverted to his original form, standing over you, his pupils turning to slits at the thought of a traitor in his house. If you were what he thought you to be, he would kill you immediately.

He pulled a small yellow twenty-sided stone from his pocket and baring his fangs in anger, he pressed it lightly against your skin.

Nothing happened.

Lucifer’s expression changed from one of deep-seated loathing to confusion. You weren’t from Heaven. If you were, the stone would have glowed a brilliant shade of Gold. Instead, it remained its original dull yellow.

Very well.

He would keep his word and… Tolerate you.

He left your room as quietly as he had entered it. Tomorrow, things would be different.

Lucifer didn’t sleep that night; the idea of change was terrifying.

The next morning, when Lucifer finally resigned himself to the fact that he was going to have to face you eventually, he headed downstairs, assuming that was where you were.

“JUST TRY IT!” He heard you yell. “TRY! OPEN YOUR MOUTH, DAMN IT!”

“Uh…” Was all he could think to say as he entered the kitchen and found you clinging to one of the snake cleaners he had created the previous night, in a rodeo-like fashion. The creature was trying to buck you off, with a somewhat derpy expression, probably stupidly assuming it was a game; Lucifer hadn’t bothered to instil them with much intelligence since he didn’t need them for anything more than cleaning.

“ARGH!” You grunted as you were dislodged from its back.

“What- What is this?” Lucifer asked, confused.

“Oh shit!” You cursed, embarrassed to have been caught in a less-than-dignified position. You attempted to regain a little composure by standing up, then held up a handful of wadded-up pancake.

“Do they eat?” You demanded, referring to the reptilian cleaners, “’Cos they’ve been in a picture frame their whole lives, and they must be hungry by now.”

Of all the stupid things you could have done, Lucifer couldn’t help but crack a smile, though he had the decency to hide his laugh behind a clenched fist and pass it off as a cough.

“They don’t need to.”

“Okay, but can they?”

“If they wanted to, I suppose so.”  

You glared at the mushed-up pancake, “I fucking knew it. Spick, Span, eat your fucking breakfast!”

“I’m sorry, who now?” Lucifer asked.

“Well, they clean, don’t they? Spick and Span seem to fit unless you have something better to name them.”

Lucifer chuckled, a half-short-lived chuckle, but one all the same. You were more chaotic than he expected.

“Fine, if you want them to eat, you’ve got to cook in style.”

He waved his hands energetically, his outfit transforming from his usual suit to one befitting a flashy Michelin Chef. He was comfortable in the role of an entertainer as he made a dazzling display of cooking up eggs. With the flash-bang of indoor fireworks, the island counter gained a conveyor belt to transport several dishes, all perfectly presentable and giving off a delectable aroma of herbs and spices.

Eggs-benedict, frittatas, and shakshuka shot by you, closely followed by a hungry Span, though his twin was busy writhing on the conveyer belt, trying to get to his feather duster, yet doomed to chase it since he didn’t think to travel in the opposite direction so it would meet him in the middle.

The sight was memorable to say the least, even when Spick knocked the food onto the floor and his brother was left stupidly sucking on the corner of the countertop where his seemingly new favourite dish had splattered.

You couldn’t help laughing.

“See?” You struggled to get the words out, “I knew they’d like food. I’m just a shite cook.”

Lucifer gazed at his dishes proudly, even though they were no longer fit for either of your consumption.

“Hah,” You said, feeling somewhat awkward now that the moment had passed and Lucifer’s gaze was upon you, trying to figure you out. “I’ll uh, clean this up.”

“No need, leave it to Flim and Flam,” Lucifer said nonchalantly.

“You know that’s not their names.”

“Whatever. So… we’ve met, there was breakfast with a show. We done for today?”

The smile fell from your face as you realised that all of this was just another of Lucifer’s acts. Granted, he might have actually had fun with it, but it was all just in the name of claiming he had tried to be around you, and just wanted to leave as soon as possible.

“I don’t know. I was going to go into the City if you wanted to come.”

“I can’t. I have… plans.”

Lucifer’s mood soured as he thought about visiting Heaven’s embassy to set up the meeting for Charlie. He hated everything about that building. The décor was just a cruel reminder of everything Heaven had banished him from. Moreover, while the Angels had to respect his power, they didn’t respect him; their cruel words and thinly veiled insults always cut him the deepest. Not to mention how bitter he was that the balance of power was uneven. Sure, Heaven had an embassy in Hell, but there was no such building in Heaven where Demons could work to arrange meetings between Angels and him.

It would always be Lucifer going to their building, on their terms, usually at their behest.

“Plans? So, you’re setting up Charlie’s meeting today?” You guessed astutely. “You know, I’m walking that way too.”

Lucifer guessed at your game. You probably hadn’t been going in that direction at all, but this was all in the name of ‘trying’. One way or another, he would have to learn to get along with you.

“Fine. Let’s go,” He said, flicking his hand back blasély, even though he found the idea of walking the streets of Hell daunting.

It would be better if he could teleport there, but at least, by the end of the day, you would have something positive to report back to Charlie.

[sillybucket]

“They won’t look at me” { Jonathan Ohnn/Spot x g/n reader }

I just love writing for this character , so I decided to make another little story featuring the Spot :D

As always I apologize for possible ooc moments , and if someone already wrote about something similar know that it’s not my intention to copy anyone !

🍃 Warnings 🍃 : there is some angst in this one … basically , Johnathan and the reader have a talk with his parents some time after his transformation , and unfortunately it doesn’t go well for the poor guy ;(

☕️ . ☕️ . ☕️ . ☕️ . ☕️ . ☕️ . ☕️ . ☕️ . ☕️ . ☕️ . ☕️ .

The room was alarmingly quiet , the sound of the clock on the wall and the traffic outside were the only things that interrupted the silence as the four people in the kitchen sat in front of each other …

The tension was palpable , Jonathan could feel the judgmental , baffled looks his parents occasionally gave him , and when (y/n) held his hand to comfort him he looked back at them with genuine gratitude before taking a deep breath .

“So uh … mom , dad , how have you been doing ?”

, he timidly asked , desperate to end that suffocating silence in some way .

“Business has been going well . My technological inventions are on high demand , so that’s something .”

Jonathan’s father averted his eyes from his son while answering his question , almost like he just couldn’t handle to look at his face …

“If that’s all you wanted to know you might as well leave now , we’re both busy and really don’t have any time to lose .”

Jonathan let out a sigh , trying to get his thoughts in order while (y/n) stared at his dad in disbelief :

he couldn’t be serious … sure , Lucas Ohnn was a very important scientist with a reputation to protect , but treating a member of his own family in such a cold , distant way simply because he looked different was simply unacceptable .

“I … just wanted to pass by to see if you were okay , and to let you know that you don’t have to worry about me : it hasn’t been easy , but I’ve been doing my best to rebuild my life after … after all that’s happened . Also I wanted to introduce you to my partn -“

“Mhm , that’s great Johnny … are you sure nobody saw you enter our house ?”

, Miss Ohnn asked , without even looking up from her phone .

“You’re right , Carol . What will the neighbors think if they see … that … inside our property ? They might start to think that we’re giving shelter to some strange creature , and that would be inconvenient …”

After hearing those words (y/n) stood up , unable to listen any further …

“Strange creature ? Are you serious ? That’s your son , Mister Ohnn ! You used to talk to him just a few months ago , you said you were proud of him for all his hard work at Alchemax and now you have the audacity to say something like that ? Right in front of him ?”

Everyone in the room now had their eyes pointed at them as they continued talking .

“This the same Jonathan you used to know , and just because his appearance changed you can’t just treat him like th -“

“(Y/n) , it’s okay …”

Jonathan had gotten up as well , gently putting his hand on their shoulder .

“Let’s just go .”

The two of them slowly headed towards the door , and before leaving he turned back to look at his parents one last time …

“Bye mom , bye dad … don’t worry , you won’t see me again .”

The late afternoon sun was starting to set as the two of them walked hand in hand back to (y/n)’s apartment .

“I’m sorry , I shouldn’t have reacted like that … it’s just - what your dad said … I couldn’t tolerate the way he was talking to you .”

Jonathan smiled softly to himself , squeezing their hand a little .

“There’s nothing to apologize for , honey … you’re always looking out for me , and I love you so much for that .

They were probably going to make us leave soon anyway .”

He then let out a sigh , his voice trembling slightly as he tried to go on …

“… I knew that this would end this way , that my parents weren’t going to accept that this is who I am now … but it just kinda hurt , y’know ?

They’re the only family I have left and they couldn’t even look at me for more than a few seconds .

I really do mean nothing to them …”

(Y/n) quietly listened to him , and when they finally stopped after reaching the apartment’s door they wrapped their arms around him , holding him in a loving hug .

“Well … you mean everything to me , Johnny . No matter what your parents think you’re definitely still someone worth loving , and believe me when I say that my life wouldn’t be the same without you in it .”

They looked up at him , gently caressing his cheek .

Jonathan wanted to say so many things in that moment … how much he appreciated them , how happy he was to have them in his life …

His arms surrounded their waist while he placed his forehead against theirs .

“God , I really don’t know what I’d do without you (y/n) …”

, he whispered , genuine adoration in his voice as he got lost into his partner’s beautiful eyes .

The two of them stood there for a few minutes , enjoying each other’s comforting warmth until finally (y/n) took out their house keys from their pocket and opened the door :

after such a stressful afternoon , all that Jonathan and (y/n) wanted to do was just lie down somewhere comfortable and rest in each other’s arms , forgetting about all their worries .

☕️ . ☕️ . ☕️ . ☕️ . ☕️ . ☕️ . ☕️ . ☕️ . ☕️ . ☕️ . ☕️ .

Thank you so much for reading this little story until the end ! :D

Feel free to leave some feedback if you want to :) ❤️