#(and I will literally never trust anyone with my books if I know they do the dog ear thing)
drownedghostie · 2 days ago
"Prongs, you don't... you don't need the cologne, you know that?"
James scoffs, fixing himself in the mirror. "Hush, Wormie. You need to trust my vision, here."
"And what's the vision, exactly?" Peter's smile is curious, but his eyes are bright in a way that makes Remus brace himself near his bed. "To seem like a prat during a sleepover? Who wears cologne at a sleepover? Unless you're trying to get int-"
Remus springs up, the book he'd been cradling falling off with a loud thunk on the floor. James and Peter both turn to look at him, James startled, but Peter all too knowing.
"Sirius is on his way." He improvises. "He'll be here with Regulus in no time, so let's all act natural."
Peter shrugs, going back to his own bed. James nods slowly, turning back to the mirror to inspect himself critically. "I think I look natural enough, but I need the extra edge, Peter, to-"
There's loud footsteps right outside their dorm, Sirius' voice loud and so very joyful that it makes Remus forget to pick up his book. It's a bit new, he supposes. They've all heard Happy Sirius, but never like this.
"Never change, Reggie!" Sirius is saying as he swings the door open. "Always in the elves' good graces, good job!"
Regulus walks in before Sirius does. He's wearing a bright sea blue jumper and Remus can almost taste the magic coming off of it. Protective charms, most likely. It looks bigger than the ones Remus owns, which is a whole other league of impressive, and so incredibly soft Remus wouldn't be opposed to a hug for a greeting instead of their usual nods.
"It's easy, Sirius," Regulus rolls his eyes, voice soft and quiet, "just be patient."
"No can do!" Sirius locks an arm around Regulus' neck, bringing him closer and immediately beelining for James. "Say hi, baby brother!"
Regulus only has less than a second to glance at Remus and smile before he's being shoved at James. He's confused, Remus can tell, but he's taking it in stride. "Hi, Potter." Regulus does a little wave, his fingers barely showing from the sleeve of the jumper. "You look weirder than usual, what's the occasion?"
"Hi yourself, Reggie! I'll have you know, I look fantastic, and you just as lovely as-"
Peter's squack of laughter at Regulus' wide eyes of horror almost tips Remus over the edge of his own.
"Oh, Morgana's blessing be with me, I've literally just walked in and the selling already begun?" He turns to Sirius with his hands on his hips, looking more like a mother scolding her child rather than the youngest boy in the room. "Couldn't you wait till the food got here? Or, or after the food?"
Sirius does look chastised, even if it won't last. "Sorry, Reggie. We can wait for the food."
Muttering under his breath, Regulus looks back at James, who is now rubbing a hand behind his neck. "And you."
"Oh, God."
"No, just me. While we wait for the food to get here, you better go shower." He fully turns towards James, crossing his arms over his chest this time. "Lovely cologne, James Potter, usually I don't mind it, but it's like you wanted to drown in it. My head hurts and my teeth are aching and I'm sure it's not just 'me being quirky', as my mother would put it." James does not move for a good minute, and the silence stretches between them all. Sirius has his face hidden in his hands, so he misses the way James' eyes roam Regulus' face, the little twitch in the corner of his lips and the way he stands straighter when all Regulus does is stare right back, flushed and puzzled. "So? Do I need to guide you through your own dorm?"
In the blink of an eye, James relaxes. Everything about him would seem laid back to anyone else watching, but Remus has a front row seat to whatever the fuck is going on behind James' eyes.
Peter knew, is all he can think. Peter is evil. And Remus is now an accomplice.
"Off I go, then." James smiles sheepishly. "I didn't mean to go so overboard, Reggie, sorry."
Regulus glares at him. "I'll only accept your apology after you've showered and once you stop calling me Reggie. You can't call me Reggie, that's not how this works."
"Right, yeah." James' eyes are so sharp, Remus wants to go back to bed and cry. "I'll earn it. In the meantime, I'm sorry. Truly, Regulus."
Regulus nods, bringing one of his hands up to his mouth and biting on the sleeve that covers it. "There's nothing for you to earn. You're forbbiden from using that nickname."
James snickers as he leaves, but Remus still has the front row seat to his stupid fucking face as he turns back around once he's reached the bathroom so he can stare at Regulus some more before disappearing behind the door.
Remus is an accomplice. Peter is evil. Sirius is too drunk on his brother's presence to notice anything but the fact that Regulus is basking in his attention.
When he looks over at him, Peter grins and waves his fingers with a quirked brow. Why, Remus wonders to himself. Why would you help this along.
Peter cocks his head to the side, eyes gleaming. I'm bored, he mouths as if he read Remus' mind. Then he winks, gets up from his bed and goes over to officially greet Regulus, who takes to him like a fish to water.
Peter gets a hug. Remus hates him a little more for it.
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timemachineyeah · a year ago
Gen Z is awesome and generational fighting is bad, but I do sometimes talk to Gen Z folks and I’m like... oh... you cannot comprehend before the internet.
Like activists have been screaming variations on “educate yourself!” for as long as I’ve been alive and probably longer, but like... actually doing so? Used to be harder?
And anger at previous generations for not being good enough is nothing new. I remember being a kid and being horrified to learn how recent desegregation had been and that my parents and grandparents had been alive for it. Asking if they protested or anything and my mom being like “I was a child” and my grandma being like “well, no, I wasn’t into politics” but I was a child when I asked so that didn’t feel like much of an excuse from my mother at the time and my grandmother’s excuse certainly didn’t hold water and I remember vowing not to be like that.
So kids today looking at adults and our constant past failures and being like “How could you not have known better? Why didn’t you DO better?” are part of a long tradition of kids being horrified by their history, nothing new, and also completely justified and correct. That moral outrage is good.
But I was talking to a kid recently about the military and he was talking about how he’d never be so stupid to join that imperialist oppressive terrorist organization and I was like, “Wait, do you think everyone who has ever joined the military was stupid or evil?” and he was like, well maybe not in World War 2, but otherwise? Yeah.
And I was like, what about a lack of education? A lack of money? The exploitation of the lower classes? And he was like, well, yeah, but that’s not an excuse, because you can always educate yourself before making those choices.
And I was like, how? Are you supposed to educate yourself?
And he was like, well, duh, research? Look it up!
And I was like, and how do you do that?
And he was like, start with google! It’s not that hard!
And I was like, my friend. My kid. Google wasn’t around when my father joined the military.
Then go to the library! The library in the small rural military town my father grew up in? Yeah, uh, it wasn’t exactly going to be overflowing with anti-military resources.
Well then he should have searched harder!
How? How was he supposed to know to do that? Even if he, entirely independently figured out he should do that, how was he supposed to find that information?
He was a kid. He was poor. He was the first person in his family to aspire to college. And then by the time he knew what he signed up for it was literally a criminal offense for him to try to leave. Because that’s the contract you sign.
(Now, listen, my father is also not my favorite person and we agree on very little, so this example may be a bit tarnished by those facts, but the material reality of the exploitative nature of military recruitment remains the same.)
And this is one of a few examples I’ve come across recently of members of Gen Z just not understanding how hard it was to learn new ideas before the internet. I’m not blaming anyone or even claiming it’s disproportionate or bad. But the same kids that ten years ago I was marveling at on vacation because they didn’t understand the TV in the hotel room couldn’t just play more Mickey Mouse Clubhouse on demand - because they’d never encountered linear prescheduled TV, are growing into kids who cannot comprehend the difficulty of forming a new worldview or making life choices when you cannot google it. When you have maybe one secondhand source or you have to guess based on lived experience and what you’ve heard. Information, media, they have always been instant.
Society should’ve been better, people should’ve known better, it shouldn’t have taken so long, and we should be better now. That’s all true.
But controlling information is vital to controlling people, and information used to be a lot more controlled. By physical law and necessity! No conspiracy required! There’s limited space on a newspaper page! There’s limited room in a library! If you tried to print Wikipedia it would take 2920 bound volumes. That’s just Wikipedia. You could not keep the internet’s equivalent of resources in any small town in any physical form. It wasn’t there. We did not have it. When we had a question? We could not just look it up.
Kids today are fortunate to have dozens of firsthand accounts of virtually everything important happening at all times. In their pockets.
(They are also cursed by this, as we all are, because it’s overwhelming and can be incredibly bleak.)
If anything, today the opposite problem occurs - too much information and not enough time or context to organize it in a way that makes sense. Learning to filter out the garbage without filtering so much you insulate yourself from diverse ideas, figuring out who’s reliable, that’s where the real problem is now.
But I do think it has created, through no fault of anyone, this incapacity among the young to truly understand a life when you cannot access the relevant information. At all. Where you just have to guess and hope and do your best. Where educating yourself was not an option.
Where the first time you heard the word lesbian, it was from another third grader, and she learned it from a church pastor, and it wasn’t in the school library’s dictionary so you just had to trust her on what it meant.
I am not joking, I did not know the actual definition of the word “fuck” until I was in high school. Not for lack of trying! I was a word nerd, and I loved research! It literally was not in our dictionaries, and I knew I’d get in trouble if I asked. All I knew was it was a “bad word”, but what it meant or why it was bad? No clue.
If history felt incomprehensibly cruel and stupid while I was a kid who knew full well the feeling of not being able to get the whole story, I cannot imagine how cartoonishly evil it must look from the perspective of someone who’s always been able to get a solid answer to any question in seconds for as long as they’ve been alive. To Gen Z, we must all look like monsters.
I’m glad they know the things we did not. I hope one day they are able to realize how it was possible for us not to know. How it would not have been possible for them to know either, if they had lived in those times. I do not need their forgiveness. But I hope they at least understand. Information is so powerful. Understanding that is so important to building the future. Underestimating that is dangerous.
We were peasants in a world before the printing press. We didn’t know. I’m so sorry. For so many of us we couldn’t have known. I cannot offer any other solace other than this - my sixty year old mother is reading books on anti-racism and posting about them to Facebook, where she’s sharing what’s she’s learning with her friends. Ignorance doesn’t have to last forever.
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inklore · 3 months ago
crimson and clover.
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part one | next part | series masterlist
premise: maybe you shouldn’t get high with eddie again but you can’t get him off of your mind, and his lips are too inviting to fight the growing addiction you’re succumbing to from the things he can do with them.
pairing: eddie munson x richgirl!reader
word count: 7k
warnings: eighteen+ content, porn with plot, f receiving oral, fingering, a touch of voyeurism, weed smoking, virgin!eddie, teasing and banter, soft dirty talk, alluded blowjob, jealousy mention, cheesy fluff, shitty parentals.
etc: i’m literally obsessed with these two to the point of insanity!! like i’m not usually that much of a plot heavy girly but buckle up besties we in deep <3.
i do not give anyone permission to translate or repost my work, please be respectful — if you enjoyed please comment or reblog!
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It’s quite embarrassing, excruciatingly taxing, vexing and every other big word that you could remember and barely comprehend—but now are having a grave first-hand experience with—from those Jane Austen books you had to read in class.
Every ten sellable verb, feeling, pretext; all of them describing the exact state of your mind right now, and how superficial it made you feel. Aforementioned: excruciating, embarrassing.
A week has gone by since the night you spent with Eddie, and it’s all you find yourself thinking about.
Your mind plays a constant loop reel of everything that happened; the giggles, the kiss, the…other thing. At night when you want to sleep your mind is too busy thinking about whether or not Eddie’s thinking about it too, what happened. Or if he’s out bragging to his friends—something you have your doubts about. The two of you hadn’t discussed if this was an under-wraps kind of thing, it was probably common knowledge you wouldn't want it to be spread all over town. Which it would be, like wildfire.
None of your friends have called you to belittle you yet, so you doubt he’s told anyone.
But was it plaguing his mind as pathetically as it was yours? Or were you just so starved for decent human interaction that your mind was holding onto this one night like it was an aphrodisiac?
Maybe if you had received a call from him you wouldn’t be acting so…mortifyingly in your feelings for god knows why.
"Will we be graced with your presence across the tracks again, princess?" He had asked when he pulled up a block down from your house, not trusting his loud engine to not wake up your parents—or at the very least a neighbor who would see and then go running to your parents about the strange man they saw you with. It wasn’t a mess you wanted to deal with.
"Don't call me that." You had groaned, undoing your seatbelt and hiding your smile by biting the inside of your cheek. You hadn’t thought past this night, were still too busy rolling off that high from smoking and having Eddie against your mouth…inside of your mouth.
And maybe it was his smile, his thumb tapping on the steering wheel, eyes flashing to your mouth and back up like he didn’t know if he was allowed to kiss you again, or if he should.
But you reached across the dash and grabbed the pen randomly rested atop of it, leaned over to pull his hand from the wheel, and wrote your number on top of it.
"Don't call before six or after midnight.” You let your smile spread, threw the pen back on the dash, and opened the passenger door hopping out. “See you around, Munson.”
That was seven days ago and counting.
Never-ending counting.
It’s not like you expected him to call. You figured he probably wouldn’t, the two of you were not about to become best friends just because he cleaned your shoes, or let you smoke his weed, or because he came in your mouth. You didn’t—shouldn’t—have any expectations from Munson and you were sure he had none from you.
History didn’t make you friends. Sharing weed or an incredible kiss didn’t either.
So it wasn’t a big deal he hadn’t called.
And yet as you sit at one of the pristine white table cloth tables of the Country Club, your parents on either side of you, your fingers playing with the straw of your drink; you’re wondering if he’s called.
You’re so hyper-focused on that thought, of the thought of that stupid smile that you can’t shut your eyes without seeing—that you don’t hear your mother speaking to you until the words “I heard you two broke up” are spat through the air.
Reality crashes down on you, and you can’t help the grimace that flashes across your lips. Word really does spread like wildfire in this town. You hadn’t expected your parents to find out until at least a few weeks—or never, a girl could dream. Enough time for you to come up with an excuse at least, anything but the truth. Which would be nothing but unacceptably unrealistic to them.
“He’s not a good-”
“I didn’t ask for your feelings on the matter.” Your mother interrupts. Scowls down at the martini glass in her hand. “Fix it. You’re both going to the same college, a college your father called in many favors just to get you in. Since you couldn’t do it on your own.” Her last words are mumbled, snappy, and hurtful as always. “His parents run in the same social circle as us and could do wonders for your father's business. Don’t ruin this for yourself over girlish feelings.”
Your throat feels tight, constricted, suffocated. Your fingers have dropped from your straw to grip the end of your white pleated skirt under the table. You know even if you told your mother the full story, how you truly felt, how you’ve been with him since sophomore year and neither of you have even muttered the words ‘I love you’. And don’t think you ever will. Would.
Or how last year over spring break the two of you broke up for a month and you had felt more rejuvenated than any hundred-dollar spa treatment ever could. As if you had peeled off a deadweight and could finally feel something other than the caked-on layers of presser that were endlessly put onto you by him, by them.
Then he came back and said the same thing your mother did “don’t ruin this for us” when he had been the one to leave you. And you’d done the stupid thing and said yes. As the two of you kissed and made up your mind searched for the why, the how, the what-the-fuck-were-you doing.
And now with your mother's words as fresh as a reopened wound reminding you of the memory, you know you said yes because of her. Your father. Their need to seem so disgustingly perfect on the outside, to hide how ugly they were on the inside.
Were you as ugly as them?
The question makes your knee bounce, knuckles straining from the grip on your skirt.
Your mothers already moved on from you, talking to the friend at her side. Smiling, keeping that perfect crown in place. Turning towards your father you hope to see a sympathetic look, some wise words—wasn’t that what fathers were supposed to do? Wise words and comfort? But he’s not even looking at you, too busy laughing at something the man beside him has said.
You need to get out of here. Go home and scream into your pillow or something.
Standing from the table, a little too quickly. The legs of your chair screeching against the hardwood, your father finally looks at you.
“Everything alright?” A monologue of how everything is the farthest thing from being alright in the back of your throat and ready to be screamed. But then you can feel your mother's eyes on you, don’t have to turn to see her look of impassiveness to know it’s there.
“Yeah,” you give them both your best performed smile. “Just going to do what mom said, fix it.”
Your lie only gets you a hum from said woman and then she’s done with you and turning her head. Your dad gives you the weakest of smiles and asks if you need any money—for no reason at all. Shaking your head you quickly bid them goodbye and do your best walk-sprint out of the building.
The hot summer night air a welcome humidity from the suffocation you felt in there.
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You have your parent's driver take you home. Screw your ex and screw your parents.
If your mother wanted him to be in your family so bad maybe she should drop her Pilates instructor and have him instead. It would take a hefty price—that you were sure your parents would gladly pay to get you to shut up and listen to them—to ever bring yourself to his front door and beg for him back.
You didn’t beg. For anyone. Over anything.
You asked. You got. Demanded. Sometimes you didn’t even need to ask. You were just given to. Your bank account and school career showed as much.
Fuck, maybe you were the Princess of Hawkins after all.
You start in a small sprint up the stairs to your room, your throat still feeling as if it’s being squeezed by your mother's words, indifference towards you, demands. Even with her not around you feel like you’re being suffocated by her.
You really shouldn’t have come back home.
Not for the summer. Not anytime. Should have just stuck to the one call a month and check in the mail. Life was more peaceful that way. At least you could breathe.
It was going to be one hell of a long, torturous summer.
“Someone called for you!”
You hear just as your foot lands on the last step. Your heart leaping in your chest as you turn and yell down, “who?”
“They didn’t say.” Your family housekeeper appears at the bottom of the stairs, a small smile on her face. “But they did leave their number and said to call them if you needed help on biology or something like that.” She shakes her head, “could barely understand them. There was loud music in the background.”
The grin that spreads across your lips is demeaning to your social status. Same with the way your heart feels like it’s pumping from your stomach now as you run back down the stairs and take the number from her, only to run back up them and to your room; dialing the number into the pink phone beside your bed, pacing the floor as you wait, hope, shamefully pray that he answers.
On the fifth ring he answers and when his voice floods through the phone when you hear the “shit-hold on” as he turns down the music blaring in the background, you feel like you can finally breathe again. No more tight throat. Suffocating. The only thing you feel now is that familiar giddy ache in your cheeks.
“Biology huh?”
You can hear the puff of air Eddie lets out from realizing it’s you, from the smile that you can tell is on his face when he speaks through the receiver, “I thought telling her I was ‘the weed guy’ would be worse, town freak was my second option.”
"Munson, it's summer no one's doing biology!"
“Incorrect. Summer school is a prison sentence I have had the displeasure of being sentenced to.” Of course, he has. You can’t help the laugh that comes out, one he joins in on.
There’s a silence that spreads where you can hear him fiddling with something on the other line.
And then he’s saying, “is the Princess busy or can she step away from the castle, and grace us, peasants, with her presence?"
You’re smiling again, fuck.
“She could, but I don't know, she might need payment." You say in your best uppity voice, flopping back on your bed. Your fingers coiling and uncoiling the cord hanging from the phone.
"Drats! Right when I’m out of gold doubloons too."
“Oooh, and I only take gold, looks like the peasants must go un-graced today.”
"Would thy majesty take my humble payment of the best weed in the county instead?" He puts on his best historically accurate voice that has you snorting.
“That’s very presumptuous of you to say it's the best."
"Did I say the best? Sorry, I meant the greatest.”
God, you despised how nice this felt. How the muscles in your cheeks were already sore and you hadn’t even been talking to him for more than five minutes. How you can’t remember someone calling you and it being like this, no gossip, no hounding questions or accusations.
Oh, how the normal half lives.
"I'll meet you where you dropped me off the other night, okay?"
"Your chariot will be waiting, princess."
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When Eddie picks you up and the two of you fly across town, sharing silent smiles, the town passing in the rear view, heavy metal blaring throughout the speakers—that he doesn’t turn down until his van comes to a stop through a wooded clearing, in front of a familiar lake.
Lovers Lake.
"Really, Munson? Trying to get lucky again?" You tease, a cheeky grin covered up by him laughing behind the hair that moves in his face as he undoes his seatbelt and moves to the back of the van.
You follow him into the back, sitting on the van floor. Eddie on the sofa, much like the last night the two of you were together. Except now you’re sitting with your legs crossed out in front of you, back against one of the walls of the van.
You let him do his thing of pulling out the metal box and rifling through it while he finds what he needs. Occupying your time with looking at the newly added amps and wires that weren’t there the other night.
"What's your band called again?"
"Corroded Coffin.”
You smile remembering him telling you that when you were partnered together. Remember how he drummed his fingers on the desk and air guitared you a silent piece to emphasize how good he swore he could play, how good the band was.
"You should come see us play sometime. If you're into that.” He looks up at you through his bangs, his fingers moving in his lap as he rolls the joint.
You give the tiniest smirk as you say, “like a date?”
His shoulders are shrugging, ringed fingers scratching his cheek. “If a grimy bar and drunk geezers falling off their barstools is your ideal date then yes. Absolutely.” You share a smile and then he’s going back to his task at hand.
When he’s finished rolling, and after you’re done eyeballing him: watching how his fingers work along the rolling papers, those damn rings distracting you, and finding yourself at a loss for words when you watch him bring it to his lips and run his tongue along the seam to close it.
You were here to get away. To kill time. To smoke. Nothing else.
What happened the other night should stay a one time thing. With how your insides keep acting up from the mere thought of it. This was dangerous territory already.
"Your payment, princess." Eddie holds out the freshly rolled joint, doing a little bowing motion as he does. Making you laugh and playfully snatch it from his fingers.
Bringing it to your lips, he pulls out a lighter from the front pocket of his jeans. Leaning forward he flicks it and holds it to the other end, lighting it for you. His eyes on yours as you forget to inhale for half a second, too busy staring back at him. The thick smoke almost making you choke after you’ve come to and inhale; an intensity holding between your gazes.
He’s so close, if you were to remove the joint you could lean in and….
Nope. Not happening. Not tonight.
You quickly move back over to your spot and take a few puffs, praying that it chills whatever tempestuous feelings were burning in your lower belly right now.
The two of you fall into an easy rotation, puffing, passing, Eddie making a joke and you losing it. A peaceful cycle that soon has you forgetting about the earlier events of the day and how you had felt; your nerves now lax, body feeling good. And not just because of the weed, but because of the boy sitting in front of you.
A fact you let yourself feel.
The only thing you allow yourself to feel.
You’re tapping your foot mindless against the bottom of the couch to the metal playing through the van, ignoring the friction it causes against the pant leg of Eddie’s jeans; his leg pressed against yours as the two of you have your limbs spread out.
Your fingers are flipping through a random magazine you’ve found in one of the many piles of junk on the floor. “Who sings this?”
"Corroded Coffin.”
Your head snaps up a little too fast giving you whiplash, as you look up at him—he’s already staring back, how long has he been watching? And have your cheeks always been this warm, or is the thought that he had possibly been watching you for god knows how long that’s making you feel overheated right now?
“This is your band?!”
“Yes,” he chuckles. “I don't see any blood coming from your ears so I take it your majesty approves?"
You make a face, shrugging. "I was swallowing down my vomit actually, was trying to hide it with being nice."
“Mmm.” He replies, his hair covering his smile as he fiddles with the chain connected to his jeans.
It’s an effort to pull your eyes away from him and go back to flipping through the magazine—as if you were doing anything other than looking at the pictures. Your high mind having very little comprehension of the words printed across the flimsy papers.
That comfortable silence spreads between the two of you again, your foot going back to its tapping. Your head doing a little bob along with the beat.
“Was that a jive I just saw?”
Your movements stop, “a jive?” The snort of laughter that comes deep from within your throat should be embarrassing. If it were anyone else in front of you you know you’d do everything in your power to cover it up.
“Who says that?”
“I know many people who say it.”
“Are they 80 and over?”
Eddie shakes his head, his laugh dying down. “You like it, the music?”
“I’ve heard worse.” You shrug nonchalantly. Close the magazine and toss it back in its pile of junk.
“I’ll take it!” His fist pumping in the air in triumph.
Shaking your head you send an eye roll his way. Your heart doing a little leap in your just at how cute you think he looks right now. Your mind working overtime to hone in on the little things that light up his features when he smiles or laughs—and then the little things that don’t matter at all: like how this is your second time here and the first he had scurried around and tried to move his random messes out of the way, to clean it up. But this time around he didn’t even bother, as if a comfortability has already grown between the two of you. You hadn’t run for the hills, already knew what he was about, that this van was a second home to him by the looks—and he knew you wouldn’t care what it looked like. Hadn’t made a fuss the first time so why not let you see him more in his realm?
It makes a weird affection burn in your gut and has you toying with the bottom of your skirt to distract yourself from it.
Just listen to the music. The band. It’s pretty good.
Which isn’t shocking to you in the slightest. It only took you all your school career, and give or take a few years, to realize that Eddie Munson was a lot of things but mediocre was not one of them.
But your mind is racing a mile a minute, unlike the first time, you smoked Eddie’s stash. Which meant that you were the problem, the issue causing your mind to run from the blissful high into difficult feelings and misunderstandings of said feelings.
Go figure.
Your legs are still touching each other. You can feel the bare minimum of his heat against your legs, but it’s enough to add flashbacks of the other night into the mix of your mind. How you could feel the heat from other parts of his body; under you, beside you, against you, inside your mouth.
The tender skin of your bottom lip quickly becomes raw from your teeth, as the memories bombard you. As you grow warmer and warmer. And make the mistake of looking up at him, watching him, staring at him—and then he’s catching you doing just that and you have the urge to ask him if he’s thought about you sense that night, or why he hadn’t called sooner.
Questions with obvious answers.
But your mind is working against you here.
And the last thing you want him to think is that you’re just sitting at home waiting for him to call. Like you’re desperate for it, begging for it. Something you do not do. And was not about to start for Eddie Munson.
“Did you have plans later?” He asks.
Making your brows come together, a confused look on your face as you wonder if you’ve missed something. If he spoke before this and you just didn’t hear because of your internal war.
“The outfit,” he points with a finger, “it’s chic.” A lopsided grin pulls up the corners of his mouth just as you laugh.
“Chic?” You shake your head, “I was at the Country Club with my parents.”
“And you let me steal you away from such fun with the other royals? Honored." His hand splays over his chest.
You make a face, “my mother thinks I’m crawling on my hands and knees back to lover boy." You drop the same nickname Eddie had the other night for your ex, seeing his expression change from it. His smile faltering, fingers brushing at a few loose strands of hair in his face.
“Are you?”
“If I was, would I be here with you?"
"Maybe you needed some devil induced bravery to help you crawl."
"I wouldn't waste a good high on him,” you scoff.
Eddie’s silent for a second too long for your sanity and then he’s saying, “instead you're here wasting it on me."
"It's not a waste.” The words slip out. Come out so naturally that you don’t realize how sentimental of a meaning they have until you see Eddie’s expression. See the softness of it, and how you cannot bear the way your insides feel right now.
What’s the worst thing that can happen from you hooking up with Munson again?
“At least it doesn't have to be.." you’re pulling at your skirt again, can’t bring your eyes up to his as the words hang in the air—an invitation.
"Hitting on me now, princess?” His leg pushes into yours playfully, “who knew you could be so flattering. So charitable.” He teases.
You only look up to scowl at him, because you were not hitting on him—maybe, not really, you didn’t hit on people, you were hit on. But like many things around Munson it had changed, morphing itself into something you don't recognize; something better. You are going to tell him as much, flaunt your Princess status tenfold. But can’t stop looking into his big brown eyes, can’t stop the burning in your stomach going lower lower until it turns into that same lust you felt for him the other night.
And fuck it.
You’ve already dipped your toe over that line once, mine as well put your whole foot in.
"Shut up, Munson.” Your retort is less ice than it is fire, a breathy huff that you mean to sound playful but miss the mark. “Come here,” you hesitate. "Please.”
The beam that spreads across his face is anything but subtle or shy, promptly dropping down to his knees and crawling the short distance to you. A position he stays in even as he brings his lips to yours.
The kiss, his lips, his fingertips at the side of your neck just as heart stopping and pulsating-ly devastating to your insides as last time. A pang of jealousy shoots through your belly at the thought of how many girls he has kissed before you, he’s had to have kissed a couple, a handful maybe, you weren’t this good at kissing if you hadn’t. Kisses didn’t just feel like this, normally. Right?
Or maybe you just weren’t kissing the right people. Person.
It doesn’t take long for the kiss to move into the realm of breathless pants and tongues against each other, teeth biting into lips. And unlike last time Eddie doesn’t need an invitation to touch you; his hands go from your neck to your cheeks, your jaw, chin, the back of your skull, and into your hair. The tips of his fingers making a road map of every sensitive spot above your collarbone.
Eventually, thanks to some maneuvering and awkward giggles the two of you are laid on the floor of the van—you on your back, Eddie on his side with his front pressed flush against you. His lips have veered from yours, leaving a path of kisses and nips along your jaw, under it, to your neck where he runs his tongue along a sensitive spot of skin, his lips wrapping around it to suck softly and then sink his teeth into.
A breathy gasp strangled out of you, your hips moving against the air. An imprint of Eddie smirking against your skin from the noise, left behind when he kisses just below the area. Fuck.
“How many–” you swallow, lick your lips, breathless, “how many girls have you kissed like this?”
It’s probably not the right thing to ask right now, but your mind keeps going back to it. That jealousy making your stomach sink as you anticipate his answer, as you dread and wish your body and brain were working together instead of on separate plains of pain and pleasure.
“Uh, a dozen obviously.” He laughs softly against you when you dig your nails into his arm playfully, in replace of the scowl you’d shoot him down with if you could turn your head—or if you wanted him to stop the knee shaking presses of his lips right now, which you’re delirious but not that delirious to stop him. “Only you, princess.”
The information shouldn’t have you soaring any more than you already are, shouldn’t make those jealousy twists get snuffed out by a belly full of butterflies, and flutters that go all the way down to your throbbing clit. But it does and you’re reeling at the sentiment that you’re probably Eddie’s first everything in this sense. In this realm.
It’s not triumph you feel, it’s something softer and dangerously close to affection and attachment that has no business filling your chest with warmth right now.
And instead of feeling the aforementioned feelings, distracting yourself with giving him pleasure—and to hear those beautiful noises from the other night—your hand is moving from his arm to the bulge pressing to your hip.
Your fingers and palm run up his clothed length and pull those delicious breathy grunts from him. No man should sound this good, no sound should have you feeling like you’re melting into the floor.
Your mouth finding Eddie’s in a hungry kiss, a need to swallow down his noises like a drug, needing sedation. You could get addicted to this if you’re not careful.
Your fingers drag themselves up to his belt, try to blindly pull the leather through its buckle, the loops. And just like a repeat of the night before, his hand is there to stop you.
“Gotten shy on me?” You ask with a coyness that makes him give you a ‘not in this lifetime’ look.
“I just want to make it crystal clear that I didn’t bring you here for this.” His tone only holds gentleness, his hand bringing yours up to his mouth to brush a few kisses across your knuckles.
“Even if you did,” your fingers twist a strand of his hair, “I wouldn’t be upset.”
And you mean that. If Eddie had only brought you here for a replay of the other night or something further than that, you know—even if it was against your better judgment—you wouldn’t be too upset about it, or at all. It was hard to be upset with lips like his pulling out smiles and whimpers from you.
But it also means that Eddie had called you because he wanted to see you, to hang out…which is harder for you to grasp than the prospect of only casual hookups between the two to you.
Those Jane Austen feelings back with a vengeance in your chest cavity.
Your answer makes a chuckle echo in his chest. “But,” he’s looking at you with all seriousness within those doe eyes. “Now that we’re–” he motions to your current positions with his hand, “here. I want to return the favor. For the other night.”
Pressing your lips together, you do your best to hide the excitement that shoots up your spine, nodding in a super-casual-not-too-fast way. “Yeah, okay, yes, totally.”
“Totally?” He mocks you, smirking.
Then his lips are on yours again without needing further confirmation. The kiss slower this time compared to the last lip lock that made your bottom lip feel like it was inflamed from his teeth. Your mouths move in perfect sync, and if you could figure out a way you know you could get off by just his kiss alone. He moves your hand back to his crotch, giving you back access to his hardness as his hand begins its travel down your chest. Palming your boobs over your white polo, his thumb moving across your nipple, making you whimper. Your chest pushing up into him.
The closer he gets—the further his fingers move along the fabric of your clothes—the anticipation of where you want him, where he wants to be, makes your legs pull together. Thighs in a tight lock, your attempted relief of the pressure on your clit only makes the throbbing worse. You can feel how soaked you are through the cotton of your panties, know that once you feel his fingers slip inside of you it’s going to be game over.
There's a whoosh of air against your thighs from Eddie pushing up the top of your skirt, putting your clothed pussy on display for him. His mouth pulling from yours as he looks down at you and takes you in. The hunger in his eyes turning the brown hues in them black. You’re about to ask him if he wants you to take your underwear off, his fingers slipping past the elastic of them stopping you. His palm warm against your mound.
Eddie runs his middle finger through your folds, voice low and gravelly when he says. “You’re so wet.” All you can do is mewl, bite your already raw lip as you try to keep your hips still, try to hold yourself back from fucking his hand the way you want to. His fingers explore you for a bit, misstepping your throbbing clit each time the tips of his fingers come close to it. Even as you finally let yourself move your hips a fraction of an inch up, he’s still not touching the spot you really need, instead, he’s moving every place you don’t need him. Until he slips a finger inside of you too aggressively, making an “ahh” hiss out of you.
Your face scrunched when he turns to look down at you, halting his actions. Body tense, “did I hurt you?”
He’s never done this before, it’s not new knowledge and yet thanks to your hormone filled haze—and the need to come—you were expecting him to know all the places to touch. To not be as aggressively pushy right from the get-go.
“No,” you sigh, laughing softly. “Sort of, just…can I show you?” You’re nervous he’s going to take it the wrong way. That this is where it’s going to end because it'll be awkward and he’ll be embarrassed or mad or something.
But there you go thinking Eddie is one thing when he’s the exact opposite. The endless surprise of this boy never ceasing to show you why you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover—or by its fellow shitty townspeople.
Eddie nods, eyes soft and tentatively looking at you in the same way an excited student looks thrilled to learn from a teacher.
Wasting no time you loop your fingers into the elastic of the cotton covering your pussy, pulling the garment down your legs and tossing it to the side. Moving comfortably back into your lying position, skirt still pushed up, completely showcasing yourself to him. A flutter sinking low into your belly when you watch Eddie’s throat bob from a tight swallow as he looks down at your wet cunt.
And while he watches, stares at you, you’re staring up at him. Watching the hunger and desire to learn—to be taught—displaying itself across his face; your hand moves between your legs, the pad of your index finger putting the lightest of pressers on your clit. The moan you let out has Eddie’s hair falling in your face for half a second as his eyes snap to your face. As he watches your mouth part, brows come together, breaths shaky and weak as you touch yourself. Rubbing slow circles against your throbbing clit, where you wanted, needed to feel him. Where you’ve been throbbing and aching for what felt like hours—days—for him.
His fingers dig into your thigh as he spreads your legs wider, holding it up and against him below your knee so you’re completely open for him. So he can see you run your fingers down between your folds to catch the gathering arousal at your entrance and pull it back up to coat your clit.
You should be talking right now, should be directing him with your words, but you can’t. Have never touched yourself in front of anyone before, never had to, or wanted to. The act of touching yourself strictly permitted for when you were alone in your room at night. Never like this. But you’ve been convinced. Turned over a new leaf in the things you like, enjoy; the way Eddie is watching your fingers, the way he brings his gaze back up so fucking slow to look at your face. To hold eye contact with you as you moan and tremble. That mounting pressure already starting, so fast, so good.
Eddie leans into the small distance of space between your mouths to swallow down one of your moans that comes out at the same time his lips press to yours. “You’re so pretty.” He whispers between kisses. “How many guys have you let watch you like this?”
You whimper, breath hot on his mouth, “none. Only you.”
He’s grinning against your mouth, “you do this at night when you’re alone in your bed?”
“Yes.” Humming, you feel breathless, can feel your hips gyrating against your hand, legs trembling. Know you’re so close. But don’t want to make yourself come. Want Eddie to be the one to make you come, want his fingers to be inside of you when your walls constrict and carry you through that euphoric high.
“Who knew you were such a dirty girl, princess.” His head lifts back up to look back down at your pussy, the wet sounds of your arousal against your finger and clit filthy.
Have you ever been this wet before? This turned on? Fuck, Eddie Munson.
Without thinking—reeling off of your own need—you grab his hand that's still holding your leg to him. “Put your hand over mine.” Following directions eagerly Eddie does so, places his searing palm atop yours, his index finger resting perfectly against yours; moving along as you go back to stroking your clit. “Like this, slow–ahh–circles.” The last syllables of your words choked out over a moan. Your skin feels like it’s on fire, know you’re probably making a mess on the makeshift carpeting below you.
He copies your movements for one, three, six circles and then you’re snaking your hand away and it’s his finger on your clit. The change in feeling is instantaneous and has your hips stuttering, whines coming out weaker. Your hand gripping the material of his shirt, needing to ground yourself. To remind you that yes, this is reality and not some crazy out of body wet dream.
“Like that?” Eddie asks against your cheek.
“Yes.” You don’t think your moans have ever sounded this wailing, this intense to the point where you’re almost embarrassed at how good you feel right now. How your body is shaking and mewling and reaching out for him for pleasure. In need of it.
This time when he slips a finger into you it’s slow, so good and gentle as he pumps it inside of you, that amplifies the squelching of your wetness. “This okay?”
He fucks you like that, his middle finger fucking up into you, his thumb brushing against your clit at just the right angle that has you on the verge of seeing stars. You’re so so close, know that if he keeps doing that you’re going to be a goner–
“Wait, what are you doing?” Your brows pull up in confusion as you watch him detach himself from your side, removing his hand from between your thighs. Settling himself between your legs on his knees.
You expect him to start undoing his belt, figure he’s ready to take it further, aren't mad at the thought—but he’s surprising you again. “You got to taste, it’s only fair, princess.” Eddie smirks, situates himself in a comfortable hunching position, and then you’re gasping as he runs the tip of his tongue along your clit. Any rebuttal you could have thought to reply with dead in the water.
“Fuck, Eddie,” there are no missteps like the first time he was down there with his hand. Mimicking the movements you showed him with your fingers with his tongue, with a few added experimental licks and sucks that have your breath caught in your throat. “Ohmygod, and you’ve never done this before?” You curse, feel a breathy laugh fall across your clit. One, then another, finger slipping into you moving in tandem with his tongue.
Only one other guy has gone down on you and it was not as nearly intense or agonizing pleasurable as this—to the point where your thighs are closing in around his head, hands in his hair. Back arching. You feel like a woman crazed, like you had no idea you could feel this searing, pleasure this good.
You mean to say something, to warn him, to say any words that you can dredge up from the crevice of your dysfunctional brain; but all you can do is scream as you come against his mouth, as your pussy convulses around his fingers. Your hips rolling up into him, thighs shaking, body spasming as his name falls from your lips like a sinful prayer.
“Munson,” you whine, pulling at his chin once you’ve come down enough to function. Once you can finally see something other than the white bursts of light across your vision. Eddie’s tongue still running along your sensitive clit to the point of oversensitivity, that you have to pull him up.
His chin and cheeks are damp, bangs pressed to his forehead. Find yourself laughing at his tousled hair—no thanks to your fingers. There’s a cheshire grin stretched across his face as he runs the back of his hand over his mouth. Crawling up your body to hover over you and kiss you, a whimper coming from your throat as you taste yourself on his tongue.
“Wow.” You breathe, smile over at him as he rolls back to his side beside you. A palm resting over where your heart is still beating a mile a minute.
“I’ll take it.” Your laughs are in unison as a look of triumph flashes in those big eyes.
“If only you were that much of an eager learner in school, might have graduated, joined me on the road to success.” You pick.
“Not even seconds after I make her come and she’s already wounding me.” His chuckle muffled by the press of another kiss to your lips. “Better than lover boy?” Eddie teases.
“Can’t compare something that never happened.”
He makes a disgusted noise from the back of his throat, “no wonder you left him for the steerage.”
You hum nodding, turning your head to the side to press a kiss to his throat. Would it be too sentimental of you to tell him that he’s better than anyone you’ve been with? That no one has ever made you come that hard, not even yourself. That you can feel your wetness rolling down your ass cheeks and inner thighs from how wet he made you.
It could be a mood killer, sentiment isn't even your thing.
Plus it’s his turn now. Fair’s fair right?
There’s no complaint from Eddie as you move on top of him, roll your hips against his hardness, the seam of his jeans making you shudder from still feeling over-sensitive, as you move down the length of his body to rid him of his jeans and take him into your mouth.
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“Here.” There’s a cassette tape gripped in his hand, the back of his head resting on the headrest of the driver's seat. You’re parked in the same spot he picked you up earlier, a block from your house. “Since you liked it so much,” he smiles.
Sentiment. Fuck.
Your smile is too cheesy and girlish for you to wrap any logistics into your head about it just being a tape, as you take it from and see his band name in black marker at the top. Your stomach fluttering. A simple gift that's not a big deal. You have to remind yourself as you try not to lean over and kiss him on that beautiful mouth of his.
“Here,” you say as you pull off your underwear and drop them into his lap. “A gift for a gift.”
You don’t let yourself stick around to see the heart-palpating look in his eyes as he grips the fabric in his hand and laughs, shouting “gold doubloons could never compare!” out of the open window. Making you press a finger to your lips, shooting daggers at him through the windshield as you pick up the pace towards your house. Trying to quiet your giggles and wipe the big girlish grin on your face.
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adrianasunderworld · 5 months ago
Obey me Brothers x chubby reader/Mc
Something for fun for my fellow plus size peeps out there.
Edit: there is now a Part 2 with the Dateables
I lowkey want to do a little more nsfw version, so if you guys want it let me know.
If you don't sit in that mans lap this instan-
Lucifer has no reservations about telling you how attractive you are to him. This man will cage you in his arms and make you feel tiny in the best possible way. Having you on his arm is a source of pride for him, and he will let you know all night if he must
Likes having a hand on your leg and giving the occasional squeeze when you're sitting next to each other. 
Crush him. Just do it. He's a demon he won't die. And if he does,what a way to go. So lay on him, get on his lap, sit on his f-
Mammon heard one of the photographers he knew was looking for plus size models for the next shoot he was on and immediately brought you in. He loves those photos and has them framed and everything. Even though he plays it off in typical Mammon fashion.
He really likes your butt. You have caught him sneaking a peak more than once. I don’t care if you're part of the no ass club. He’s still looking, because your butt is the best one to him.
Crush him part 2
Will probably know of an anime with a title that is way too damn long with a chubby waifu to compare you to. Mark my damn words.
Loves to lay on your stomach while watching anime. Also wrapping his arms around your waist. Or wrapping his tail around your middle instead if he's gaming with both hands, he just loves to feel you tbh.
Levi is that person who self deprecates but will not allow you to do that to yourself. You are literally the hottest person to him??? And you don't think you are the best thing that happened to him? Excuse you!
Hear me out: Satan is a thigh man. So your cute self with your thicc thighs to him is…*chef's kiss*
Likes having a hand on your belly while you snuggle up to him while reading. He just does it absentmindedly.
If you mention never seeing yourself reflected in the books you have read, Satan has a plethora of reading material. He already has a few books with a chubby protagonist he found years ago. Will then be sure to keep an eye out for more books you might like in the future. 
Satan has zero tolerance for anyone who is rude to you. The Avatar of Wrath does not play.
 Asmo has had many different lovers over centuries of different beauty standards. Sexy is sexy to him, and my love you are in that category. 
Literally obsessed. Your stomach,thighs,chest, everything. He will grab anything and everything and fawn. This man is down bad.
Knows all the brands that cater to plus size people that aren't just a sack to wear. Loves to shop for you. Model for him darling.
Always has you in mind when he works with fashion brands to design stuff.
An expert in gassing you up.
Even if you are tall, I feel like Beel is capable of making anyone feel small in comparison, no matter the body type. 
Beel is the least judgmental, especially around food. If you are self conscious about eating in front of people, Beel is going to dispel those worries real quick. Trust me, no one will think about you when this guy is over there scarfing down the whole buffet.
Hugs. He loves hugging you. 
I don't care who the fuck you are or how big you are. Never in your mf life say you are too heavy to lift,even as joke. Beel will do it. Bridal,over the shoulder,on the back. Even without being a demon he is strong as hell. You are a talking paper weight to this man.
Ah yes, a human pillow just for Belphie. So soft,so warm. Don't crawl into bed,it's a trap. He won't let you leave.
Belphie gives me the vibe of,out of all the brothers, he’s the one with an outright preference for someone chubbier. He’s just always found it attractive. So when he first saw you in the attic, on the inside he was like “God damn it…No,Belphie focus. They Are human and you're just lonely. Pull yourself together!”
If you have ever seen the tik tok of that guy raving about chubby girls. That’s Belphie. “Have you ever cuddled a fat girl? It is like spooning with the pillow of God!” Needless to say, cuddling you is his favorite thing. Man has a vice grip on you until he wakes up.
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lastoneout · 2 months ago
Got asked if I had any tips for new artists during my stream today and I figured I'd put them here too:
Draw, seriously, just do it. This is the hardest part and also the most crucial. Just run at it screaming and refuse to back down. You just gotta do it.
Always do your wrist/arm/shoulder stretches before drawing and make sure to take breaks to stretch/re-center yourself if you've been going for a few hours or more! (Here's the stretches I do, and they help with gaming and writing and desk work too, they're just a good idea all around!)
Try to draw less from the wrist and more from the shoulder(move your arm more and your wrist less basically). That and stretches will help you avoid carpal tunnel which is never fun.
Consistency is only something you need to worry about if you're like, working in the industry/doing some types of commissions(like an twitch emote bundle or a comic book). If you're just starting out or only drawing for yourself it literally doesn't matter. Like, I don't think I've ever drawn a character exactly the same way twice, it's fine.
Don't do warm up drawings, do warm up scribbles. Doodles circles and squares and lines and swirls until you feel nice and lose, then start actually drawing.
If you're between 50-90% done with something and you REALLLY start to hate it, keep going. You just gotta power through, cuz chances are it's perfectly fine(or even really good) and your monkey brain is being a jackass coward chugging that impostor syndrome juice.
If you finish and you still hate it put it away until tomorrow or the day after and then look again. Never EVER trust your negative opinions about your art(or anything) if it's after like 8pm.
Re: the above points, as an exampke last night I HATED my new pngtuber model that I'd spent literally all day on. Went to bed and in the morning was like "oh this is good actually". Trust me, tired burnt out you is not a good judge of quality, especially the quality of something you've been staring at for like 4-5 hours.
If, after all that, you still hate it, that's okay too. It's a bummer, but don't try to force yourself to like something just cuz you spent a lot of time on it. Chalk it up to experience and move on to the next thing!
Do everything in your power to not compare yourself to others. It won't get you anywhere. Instead learn to look at other people's art and find what you like about it and try to break it down or do it that way yourself. Dont fully copy/trace ofc, but really think about how something looks and see if you can figure out why you like it and/or how it's done.
OH MY GOD USE REFERENCES. Anyone who says not to use references is talking out of their ass. You think figure drawing classes are bad?? That artists draw from life just for shits and giggles?? No, its because you need to know what shit looks like to draw it!!! USE REFERENCES!!!
Same with youtube tutorials, especially for learning to use digital art programs. Do take everything with a grain of salt ofc(we've all seen the "masculine vs feminine eyes" shit or the trash trend of "I fix my viewer's bad art uwu" ignore that crap) but you can learn all kinds of shit for free on youtube.
If you can feel yourself burning out fucking stop drawing a take a break. Even if you're in the middle of something, or part of you wants to keep drawing. Burn outs suck and it's gonna take a lot longer to get over it if you push yourself until you crash instead of just acknowledging that you're hitting your limit and stopping for a few days. The art will be there when you get back, your health should always come first!
If someone tells you thick line art or anime style or whatever is bad, ignore them. All art is subjective. Draw what you want how you want. Even if it's all thick line art or you stick to sketches or only do anime stuff or chibis or humans or furries or goddamn stick figures just draw literally whatever. If this is just a hobby for you there's no reason to push yourself. Draw what makes you happy, fuck everyone else.
Anyway that's all I've got for now, might add more tomorrow when I'm less tired(and I encourage additions for other artists as I'm self taught and had to learn most of this the hard way and thus I'm sure I've missed stuff) but yeah, just draw my dudes, this is supposed to be fun. You deserve to have fun.
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eddiethebanishedhq · a month ago
Pairing: Eddie munson x reader
Summary: you had a crush on your oblivious best friend, but Dustin tells you its obvious you like him
Warnings: none
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"Ok, ok fine! I'll tell you" I sighed in frustration.
Dustin had been pestering me to tell him who I liked for weeks now, ever since I blurted out the words 'no, i like someone else' ages ago he's made it his job to find out who it was.
"Who! Who! Tell me oh my god" he giggled
I didnt want to say it out loud, incase anyone heard, we were in the library so it wouldn't be hard for anyone to hear the loud Henderson's cheers.
I ripped a piece of paper from one of my books and wrote down the name:
I slid the peice of paper towards the curly headed boy watching a smirk grow on his face
"I know" he said
"What?" I questioned him
"I've known for ages" he laughed
"How long!" I whisper shouted
"Since the beginning of the year" Dustin shrugged
"I didnt even know then!" I rubbed my forehead.
"Well you make it quite obvious" if the boy had glasses, he would've pushed them up, but he doesn't so he just scrunched his nose
"Obvious! Do I? Does he know? He cant know, oh god" I throw my head back and groan
"Calm down. It's not that bad, I would just tell him" he suggested
"Tell him, have you gone mad? That's the dumbest thing you've ever said" I glared at him
"He might like you too, it's not the worst idea in the world"
My mind wondered off to how in the hell this boy knows. And although he is a genius, if he was able to figure it out even before I did, was anybody else able to. Does anybody else know? Gareth? Mike? Lucas? Eddie?
"I'm never going to tell him, he cant know, so don't. tell. Him." I state, but seeing the boy smile. I start to regret telling him.
"I won't" I dont trust him.
"Promise?" I warned
"I promise" he placed his hand over his heart and smiled sweetly
I sighed in distress as the bell went
"Ok, just act normal" Dustin said as we walked into the cafeteria, already seeing all the boys at the table, conversing.
"Normal? Do you even know me Dusty? I'm literally the opposite of normal" I furrowed my eyebrows
"Well then just be yourself" he replied
Be yourself, I repeated in my head.
Be yourself
Be yourself
Be yourself
"Hello, Henderson. Y/n" Eddie greeted with a welcoming smile.
"Hi guys!" Dustin waved while I tightly smiled to them.
That's not being myself. Laugh, you laugh all the time, that's normal for you, laugh.
I awkwardly laughed out loud. Far out
"What's so funny?" Gareth asked
"Huh? Oh I dont know" I sat down in my spot, the left of Eddie. All the boys look confused but just go back to talking like always
"So, Y/n. How was your weekend?" Eddie asked me.
"It was ok, I guess" I shrugged and stuffed my face in with some fries
"Are you ok?" He questioned
"Just fine, thanks"
"Ok then" he just nodded with a disappointed look on his face. I felt a bit bad.
I hadn't acted like this before, i think it's just knowing that other than me, someone else definitely knows my secret, and knowing that the other might know scared me. But if he did know, why wouldn't he say anything. Not even to reject me?
"Hey!" I missed in pain as I felt Dustin kick my under the table
'Normal' he mouthed. 'Talk to him, dont ignore him'
I sighed.
"How's your weed?" I blurt out as I turn to the long haired boy.
"What?" He said confused
"Uh, the weeds. Outside your trailer, have you gotten them out yet?" I panicked
"There is no weeds? Are you sure you're ok. Do you need to go to the nurse's office?" He pushed his fringe away from his eyes.
"I'm ok" I looked down at my clammy hands
He nodded his head, not fully believing me, but dropping the subject.
"What the hell was that?, you call that being yourself?" Dustin practically laughed.
"I got nervous" I whined, putting my head in my hands.
"You've been hiding it for ages, just do what you've been doing" he suggested
"Its not that easy"
"Woah, he said that" Dustin stared wide eyed at me.
Eddie and I had a fight yesterday, I said I couldn't go to the campaign due to some family shit and he told me he didn't want me and he would've preferred someone like Chrissy there instead.
Obviously that upset me, do I got up and walked out of the cafeteria. He followed after me, saying it was a joke and he didnt mean it but it still hurt. I wasn't as pretty as someone like Chrissy, so when he said he preferred her, my mind went straight to calling myself 'ugly'
"Why do you hate me?" I questioned Eddie
"What- I- I dont hate you" he stuttered
"Well it seems like you do" I crossed my arms in defense.
"I'm sorry" he apologised
"So tell me why you hate me" I cried out
"I don't" he defended
"Well you don't like me" I looked down and let out a big breath go
"Well I-"
"Make up your mind" I cut him off before walking away from him, showing him that I'm no longer interested in talking any more than that.
I turned a corner and let myself sink down against the wall. Shutting my eyes tightly and letting a hot tear roll down my cheek.
"Y/n, I know it hurt you but I dont think he really meant it in a rude way, it was just a joke" Dustin reasoned
"Yeah well there was really no reason for that, all I did was say I couldn't go to the game tonight. I didn't say anything other than that" I shook my head.
"Just talk it out. I'm sure he doesn't really prefer Chrissy"
"Well I dont exactly want to talk to him right now" I responded
"Ok, well take your time" he patted my back for comfort
I walked out to my mailbox, my father had been too lazy to get up so he yelled out for me to do it for him.
I opened it to find a few letters. One marked for mum, another one for my dad, and another letter.
A letter with a the name Y/n written messily. It wasn't in an envelope, so if mustn'tve been important, or not formal, to say the least.
I walked inside the house and lit the letters down on the coffee table, the letter addressed to me still in my grasp. I quickly walked in my room and shut the door. Jumping on my bed and unfolded the letter.
It was really messy, and a lot was scribbled out. but I could read some of it.
I am sorry ------------------ i really want you to know i didnt mean what I said, I guess --------------- upset --------------------. You ------------ to me. I care --------- a lot. This whole fight was stupid, and I'm really sorry I had to say it in a letter and not in person. I guess, what I'm trying to say is that I didnt mean it and --------------------------- I'm sorry.
Even if I couldn't understand some of it, I understood where he was going.
So I decided to write one to him.
I spent over an hour deciding what to write and scribbling things out.
By the end of it, I had basically wrote him an essay. I didnt want to send it. But I felt like it had to be said.
"Hey" Eddie awkwardly greeted as he saw me outside the school. He was leaning on the brick wall like he was waiting for me, with a joint between his fingers.
"Hi" I said as I avoided eye contact. He took a hit from it and stepped onto it as he dropped in on the ground outside the front doors of the school
"So. How are you" he stood tall, pressing up agaisnt me as a way to push past the people in the hallway
"I'm ok. You?" I looked around anxiously
"I'm fine. I got your letter, it meant a lot to me, it really did, and I want you to know I'm really sorry" he announced
"Thanks, that's means a lot" I smiled tightly, trying to pit this all at ease
"Tell him" I see Dustin mouth in my direction
"No" I said out loud at him
"Sorry?" Eddie turned to me and raised an eyebrow
"Sorry, I just thought of something" I shook my head sheepishly and looked down at my moving feet
"That's ok, so um-" he started
"Look I should really go, I have some things I have to get to before class" I lied. I want trying to avoid him, I just knew I would blurt another thing out and embarrass myself even more.
"Oh- okay then, I'll speak to you later than- I guess" he whispered as I started backing away from him
I watched him as he talked. They way his jaw moved as he spoke. The way his nose flared as someone cut him off, the way he would play with his rings as he waited, or the way he slightly stuck his tongue out in concentration. I loved it when he did all those. It was like a show that I could watch all day and never get tired of.
But it was different when it was just for me.
He stood in front of me as I stared at him in awe, It was in between a class, it it was ok, cause I had a free period which I usually just spend in the library.
"Y/n, are you listening to me?" He snapped his fingers in front of my face
"Sorry? What did you say?" My body shook out of my body, nervous and a messy state as he probably caught me.
"I was asking if you wanted to maybe hang out later?" He asked politely, with a small smile on his face
"Well I dont really, you know I don't do drugs or smoke so-"
"No! No- that's, that's not what I meant, or implied I meant just hang out in general, like friends do" he explained
Like friends
"Like friends do...I'll think about it" I spoke softly and smiled
"Ok, well I'm free tonight, or the next, and the next, I'm free whenever basically, you know I'm not mister popular around here so" he chuckled. I laughed along.
"You're telling me freak" some jock said as he walked passed
"He's a dickhead, you're not a freak" Ibeamed at him before I turned around and went to library.
"Jeez, Dusty, it's like you're everywhere" I breathed out a chuckle
"Have you told him yet" he asked
"No, Dusty, I havent, and I never will, he doesnt like me so just forget it" I groaned as he sat next to me
"You dont know that, there's a chance he does" he smiled widely
"And there the more possible chance that he doesnt, now just stop, I regret telling you so much" I said, banging my head on the table over and over again
"Come on, I haven't told anyone! Stop worrying! We keep having this conversation and it's going to go nowhere unless you say something to him, when no body is around and it's just you two, tell him" he pleaded
"Dustin, I dont think you understand, I dont want him to know, and even if I told him it will go nowhere cause he doesnt like me" I stood up and gathered my things
"You dont know that! For all we know he could" he stood up as well
"COULD! he COULD! thats the problem, he doesnt like me, but he COULD! if he does, he should tell me but he's not so he doesnt. Thank you, Dustin, for trying to cheer me up but it's not helping and it's not working so just stop. He could never like someone like me when there's people out there like Chrissy!" I cry out, the librarian looks furious and the people around us looks annoyed, but Dustin just stares at me in a guilty manner. But I noticed his eyes weren't exactly set on me.
My eyes grew wide as I heard a painfully familiar voice
"Who doesnt like you?" They asked
"YOU" Dustin yelled out at him
There might be a part 2, if you want so just tell me.
This kinda based on something that happened with me a few days ago so. 🤣
@tommyriddleobsessed @bellevsoares
651 notes · View notes
tragedyofdevotion · a month ago
All is well that ends well
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You remembered the picture book your mother used to read you when you were a child. It was a love story in which a kind prince fell in love with his beautiful maid. The prince’s childhood friend, however, couldn’t approve their relationship, going as far as using the forbidden magic to became the witch in order to kill the prince’s beloved. You view on the story is different from others. You thought that as a childhood friend, she was always by the Prince's side and they overcame numerous struggles together, only for him to abandon her for some other girl. That is why, instead of hating the witch like your siblings did, you kind of sympathized her.
However, never did you imagine you will be in her place some day.
One evening, during the student council meeting, Lucifer announced that RAD would be welcoming a new exchange student from human realm. The brothers started to complain, but one glare from Lucifer fixed everything, and the meeting ended with the decision that Mammon would be the one to be her guardian demon when she arrived. You felt a little lonely that your first demon will have less time to spend with you but that was the decision of Diavolo and Lucifer . And you know, first hand, how stubborn the crown prince can be when it comes to the exchange program. So, you didn’t couldn’t meddle in their affairs.
Reira, the new exchange student, possessed otherworldly beauty, big round eyes which steal glances, plump lips with the color of blood and the sweetest smile to go with it. Silky smooth skin that would melt at the slight touch and long black hair which flowed freely from her shoulder. She was beautiful in all ways you wouldn’t. Even Asmodeus who had very high standards regarding beauty stared at her stunning frame and admired her. Faced with all admiration, you remember Mammon said something like that was his human and not to stare at her that much. Words which he used to said for you. Call it envy but you knew that you wouldn’t like her as soon as you saw her. Thinking back, more than envy, it was more like a warning from your sixth sense.
Ignoring the slight jealousy brewing in your stomach, you welcomed her with open arms. You tried to be her light beacon because you knew how difficult it is to survive as a human who knew nothing about magic in this devildom. However, it seemed that your efforts were unnecessary since she replied with “I can take care of myself, (y/n) senpai. Moreover, even if something were to happen to me, my guardian demon would always protect me. So, please don’t worry.”
In contrary to the spiky treatment towards you, the girl was much more sweet towards the others, as sweet as the angels themselves. So, she got along well with everyone except you, especially with the brothers, who have become more amiable towards the humans due to your existence during the past year.
However, you trusted your demons. They were literally yours. You thought the bonds you had formed won’t be destroyed by anyone. And it was the biggest mistake of all.
You walked along the narrow roads of the Devildom, with only the light from the full moon shining on your way.
“Hey! Honey, what are you doing alone at this time of the hour.”
“Yeah, aren’t you lonely? Why don’t you come together with us to have fun?”
You heard some men called out to you. And you hurried your steps. Your experience told you that nothing good will happen if you looked back.
Annoyed by being ignored, one of them shouted, “Hey! I am talking to you!” and yanked at your wrist roughly.
“Wait… You… You are human.” Immediately, the look in his eyes turned from wrath to predatory.
You sighed internally growing tired of the same old scenario. You would be minding your own business, then, out of nowhere some demon would appear and try to eat you. In your opinion, Devildom had so many better food (like Devil Zebra Bacon Sandwich, for example) to eat than the raw meat of a tired and depressed human. But the demons didn’t seems to think so since they always drooled at the sight of a human. However, since it happened repetitively, you knew how to deal with it without panicking.
“Spirits of earth, lead astray to those who wish harm upon me.” Suddenly a huge mist surrounded you, surprising the demons. You made good use of it by breaking free from his hold and running away at full speed.
This is one of the spells Solomon taught you where a huge amount of mist appear and make the others lose their way. You always use it in these situations since the incantation is short and effective.
When you thought you reached a safe distance, you paused to catch your breath. You are not a sports person but with these kinds of incidents happening, you knew you should exercise more. However, buried in the piles of homework from RAD and the shenanigans of the brothers, you could not find time for workout.
“You might be so full of yourself if you are taking a rest while me of all people is chasing down on you.”
Suddenly, a voice disturbed the silence of the night. And you felt dread coming up in your spine. It was the demons from earlier and this time they are in their full demon forms. And the demons surrounded you as quickly as they arrived, probably to avoid the previous scenario again.
“ Nice to meet you again, missy. You pulled a nice one back there. But we are sorry to inform you that unlike the lesser demons, those little magic trick doesn’t work on us, more so than ever since tonight is full moon,” the more aggressive one said from behind you.
As soon as you heard him speak, you started to summon one of the brothers since you knew you wouldn’t stand a chance against two higher demons.
“Hear me, denizens of darkness, you who are born of shadow and you who give birth to it. Hear me and do as I command! I, (y/n), call upon-”
A hand came up your mouth and cover it up, leaving your incantation incomplete.
“Like hell I will let you do it. From seeing you trying to summon a demon, I can tell you are the first girl, the one who is said to mellow out the brothers.”
“What?! The infamous one? Then are you sure it is ok to do this? Won’t the brothers kill us?”
“It’s okay. Cuz they grow bored of her already. If not, why do they let her be alone in this kind of place at this time? Moreover, don’t you want to see the master of the prideful Lucifer breaking apart under our thumbs?”
“ I can’t say I don’t want to. Girl, don’t make such a fuss. It’s not like we will kill you immediately like the lesser demons. If you can keep us entertaining that is.”
At their words, you became more scared and used every ounce of power in your muscles to get free, hitting and scratching the arm that was binding you. But he was much stronger than you and didn’t even budge a bit. If you knew this would happen you should have workout regardless of how busy you were.
Now, you are going to be killed.
You are going to be killed.
You are going to be killed.
You are going to be killed.
You are going to be killed.
“I suggest you let go of her lest you want to turn into dust.”
A voice echoed through the night. You looked towards the source of the sound and saw Solomon walking your way. Seeing him, you felt relief washed over you. The Demon also let go of you and ran away with his friend, shouting “I will remember this, woman!” on his way.
“Even the parting words sound like a third rate villain from a cheap movie.” You said as you looked at their form.
“Why are you calmly saying something like that? You could have died, you know!” Solomon raised his voice unusually and you noticed his typical smile is absent from his face. He was really worried about you.
“It is unlike you to be such a worrywart, Solomon. I can do fine myself. It’s not like that kind of harassment is the first time. I am not the lost girl from when I first come here, thanks to Solomon-sensei’s magic lesson. I can chop them up myself if I wished so.” You said jokingly, trying hide the pain, the fear and all negative emotions in your heart.
“I am being serious, y/n! If I didn’t encounter you on my way back from Asmodeus, you would be dead! In the first place, what are you doing alone here? Where are the brothers?” He stopped for a moment then changed the topic. “ I will walk you back to House of Lamentation, ok?”
“ Yes!” You said as cheerfully as before.
But your thoughts were not nearly as cheerful as your words.
“Where are the brothers…,huh?” Judging from the way he suddenly changed the topics, he knew about the crack formed between you and the brothers due to the new exchange student. Well there was no way Solomon wouldn’t notice it when even those demons from before could guess it. You reheard what the demons said before. “They grow bored of her already.” Sometimes, words hurt precisely because they are true.
Lost in your thoughts, you knew that you arrived the House of Lamentation only when Solomon called out to you. You said goodbye and when you were about to go inside the house, he grabbed your hand. When you looked back, he said “ You can count on me if anything happens. If you want, you can even come stay at Purgatory Hall. Luke would be wagging his tail if you came.” He added a slight joke at the end, perhaps in order to make you feel less miserable.
“Thank you, Solomon. You are all I have left now.” Your voice was barely a whisper but you were sure he heard it because he gave a small smile to you.
When you came into the house, you saw Satan talking to the new human in the living room.
“Welcome back, y/n,” he said. “Today, I went to the neko café that was newly opened near Hell’s Kitchen with Reira.”
“Eh…That’s where you had been. I could do well with a message if you were to miss our date, you know.” Even more so, considering that you had to wait for him in the RAD library for about 6 hours.”
“What? Is today Wednesday? Sorry, I forgot because I was too excited about the café.”
“Sorry? Because you forgot, I was almost killed... or it could have been worse than that,” was what you really wanted to say but all that came out of your mouth is “No, it’s okay.”
You didn’t want to come off as being hysterical just because he missed a date.
Moreover, the incident today wouldn’t have happened if you just gave up and came home the moment you first noticed he won’t be coming. But, your naivety thought that Satan was just late because of some unknown issues and wanted to trust that he will come to you. But you were wrong, like the many times all the brothers ditched you for the new exchange student.
“How could you do that to her? She was always so kind to everyone, so kind to you.”
“I didn’t do that, Asmodeus. Why won’t you trust me?”
“Because you smell of Leviathan. Ever since she has arrived, you have smelled like that! I am disappointed in you, y/n. I didn’t think you would stoop so low as to curse an innocent human.” Satan said while trying to contain his seething wrath.
“What… What do you mean?”
“Do you remember we are avatars of sins? We can smell or detect of the presence of those sins in humans’ mind.” Leviathan explained.
“But me being jealous doesn’t mean that I tried to kill her.”
“Then who did? She was poisoned by a curse only humans can perform. There are only three humans in devildom and Solomon has been in human realm even before the incident happened. Are you implying that she did that to herself? Why are you trying to keep denying a crime you clearly committed? Do you have no shame, human?”
Belphegor said with so much venom that it made you remember the day he tried to no actually killed you. If Beelzebub didn’t restrain him, you thought he would have tried to kill you again.
“But I really didn’t do that!!!” When you shouted that, you felt tears running down your cheeks. You were sure you looked so pathetic but you were so frustrated that you couldn’t care anymore.
“I was hurt to know you would exploit the trust we had in you, y/n.” said the older twin.
As one last attempt of tying to explain your innocence, you looked at the avatar of Greed pleadingly and said “Mammon? You will trust me, right?”
Of course he will, you thought to yourself. He is the first demon who treated you kindly, the first demon you become friends with, and the first demon you made a pact. Even if no one believes in you, you were sure he would-
“I am sorry, y/n. But I also think it would be better you confess quickly.”
The words that left Mammon destroyed your world. And you just gave up everything.
“I didn’t do that. But if you guys think that I did then punish me however you like. I am so tired of everything.” You said, quietly.
“So, you won’t confess until the end.” Exasperated, the eldest brother said. “ I am sorry to say this but we cannot keep you here in House of Lamentation now that we know you tried to hurt one of your housemates.”
“It is kinda irony considering you, who tried to killed me for numerous times, are saying that. Actually, one of you actually killed me, right? Well, it works well for me too since I would hate to see any of your faces again.” You said bitterly. “Okay, I will get out today. Don’t worry. Then, I will go pack my things.”
Despite your previous breakdown, you were surprisingly calm. Or at least you appeared to be. In your heart, all sorts of emotions are brewing a storm, hurt, betrayal, hated, anger, sadness, and many other. But you tried your best to contain them because you didn’t want to feel miserable anymore.
You are really leaving this place. You thought longingly. There are both good things and bad things happened in this house but you cared about each and every one of those memories. But you guess they didn’t… j
You slapped both of your cheeks strongly to stop thinking those things or else you will start crying again. Then you heard someone knocking on the door and Mammon came in.
“Y/n, I am sorry back there… Do you have anywhere to go? Should I tell Lucifer to ask Diavolo to lend you a room at the Demon Lord’s Castle?”
“Stop… Mammon. Just don’t …. No matter what you say now, it won’t change the fact that you guys just kick me out. You guys told me that I let you down but actually it was you… all of you, who betrayed me.” You said everything as a matter of fact. “So, just… please leave me alone.”
RAD was a huge place but the news of the brothers were always a hot topic. So, when you went to school the next day, everyone already knew that you were kicked out of the house of Lamentation. You had to pretend not to hear the whisper and quiet laughter whenever you walked past the demons in the academy. However, what you couldn’t ignore is the increased level of different kinds of harassment now that the brothers officially abandoned you. It varies from a simple bully like trying to burn your textbook to the opposited fraction of the exchange program straight up trying to kill you.
Worried for you, Simeon tried to stick by your side whenever he could. If he was occupied with something, Luke would try to take his place. But it was not very effective since Luke is well… Luke. You had to worry more about him than yourself in those times. Since Solomon was busy most of the time, doing whatever, he often gave you numerous charms, instead of him, to protect you.
You really owed that branch a lot. If not for them, you wouldn’t even have a place to stay and probably die alone in the back alleys of the Devildom, cold and alone.
“Y/n? Where are you going out by yourself?”
“Nowhere, Solomon... Just to the convenience store near RAD.”
“Did you take the protective charm I gave you the other day? No, wait. I will come with you.”
“Solomon… I am not a five-year old going out her first errand. I can take care of myself. And it is 10 in the morning. No matter how much they hate me, the demons are not that stupid to attack me in the broad daylight.”
“Except there is no daylight in Devildom.”
“But you are busy, aren’t you? I would hate to impose on you.”
“Don’t worry. I am doing this because I want to spend sometime with you. If you feel guilty, then you could come help me with the research after we come back.”
“If you say so…” you reluctantly agreed.
He remembered clearly about the day you showed up at the front door of the Purgatory hall. Both he and the angels were surprised to see you come unannounced. But one look at your face and they could tell what happened. So, he just held your trembling form tightly, without asking questions.
Ever since that day, you had been staying in the Purgatory hall. You seemed to taking everything well at a glance, but if one looked carefully, they could see that you had completely closed off your heart to everyone. You went to the tea parties at the Demon Lord’s Castle or went out together with him or the angels but it is clear to see that you are only doing so to be polite. You no longer said what was really on your mind nor neither did you try to understand others. You had put up a wall around your heart as a defense mechanism. He guess that is what happens if someone was betrayed by their closest confidents.
But if possible, he wanted to break down the walls you had carefully put up together. He would like to be the one and only man who was able to heal your heart which was broken and bleeding.
You knocked on the door of Solomon’s room. “It is y/n. May I come in?”
“Yes. It’s alright.”
“Solomon, there is something I need your help with.”
He was surprised to hear that. Because you have stopped asking anyone anything for a long time.
At his silence, you continued, “I… The pacts… I would like to eradicate them. I have searched ways in books and they said that in terminating a pact or a contract needs the involvement of both parties. But I cannot... do that. So, I am wondering if you knew a way to end it by myself.”
“I do know a way. But I have to tell you something first. A pact is a from of bond and agreement between two entries. Forcefully cutting it off means the violation of the contract and, therefore, it is accompanied by immerse pain. The amount of the agony is directly proportional to the power of the other party, in your case, the other parties are the avatars of sins. So…”
“Will they have to go through the same?” you asked.
“They will feel it but only at the moment the pact is being torn apart approximately for 10 seconds. Since they are not the one who broke the contract, they don’t have to feel is much shorter and lesser than your pain.”
“So, the additional agony I had to go through is kind of like a penalty.”
“Then it is OK, Solomon. If I am being honest, I would have like for them to suffer a little too. I would hate it if I were to disappear without even being noticed. And it would only be fair since they were the ones who put me through it in the first place.”
“Are you sure you want to do this? What you will have to go through would be traumatizing.”
“Yes. I just want to get those marks off my body. Will you help me?”
When you ask him like that, with a look full of determination but one which contains equal amount of melancholy , there is no way he could say no.
“Alright. Then I will tell you about the procedure. First,….”
The preparations took about a month. And today is finally the day of the ceremony. The Solomon from before he knew you would refuse to do this since he knew and wanted the power of the avatars. But now all he wanted to do is help you and fulfill all your wishes.
“Y/n, are you sure you want to do this?” he asked one last time as a confirmation.
“Yes,” he could not see your face while saying that because you hung your head low. But the voice he heard has no shadow of hesitation so he went on with the spell.
As soon as he started chanting, you let out an agonizing scream. He almost stopped his incantation but you sensed that and shouted “Keep going.” In his long life, this was his first time seeing the forceful termination of a pact by a human and it almost looked like exorcism in cheap horror movies. He looked away from your form because if he looked a second longer, he would no doubt stop chanting and run towards you to wipe away your tears.
Mammon lied in his bed, thinking about you and the days he spent together with you. He can’t get the image of you leaving the house out of his mind, weak and broken because of his brothers, because of him. Of course, he knew you wouldn’t do something like curse. But all the evidence were against you and he had no choice but to…. Well giving excuses now would not change the fact that he did nothing to help you.
He was so ridden by guilt that he didn’t even had the energy to go to the party with Reira and Asmodeus.
Then, suddenly, he felt a sharp pain inside his chest, the place where his heart would be if he were a human. Being a powerful being, no one dared to stand up against him and so, it has been a very long time he had felt a pain this intense. It feels an unknown force is ripping his non-existent heart off, tearing his body in two. But it only lasted for about a moment and then the pain stopped completely. Then he noticed, the lack of the binds that tied his entire being, the one last connection between you and him. In a panic, he checked the back of his palm, the place where his pact mark would be and it confirmed that his greatest fear had come true.
When Mammon got to Lucifer’s office, Leviathan and Satan were already there. And soon after, the twins came in. They didn’t uttered a single word until Asmodeus got back from the party and came running into the room. Reira tried to come in together with Asmodeus.
“What is going on guys? You are making a scary face,” she asked.
“The pacts… They… They are gone,” Leviathan said after a long silence.
“You mean your pacts with y/n-san?”
“Yes!” The girl trembled at Leviathan's uncharacteristic shout.
Noticing it, Satan said, “ I am sorry but could you please leave us alone for a moment?”
When it was just the seven of them, Beelzebub asked, “What should we do Lucifer?”
“I… I don’t know,” the eldest answered. He looked most shaken up among all of them. “It wasn’t supposed to go like this. I only wanted to fulfill Diavolo’s wish of making the exchange program a success. So, when I noticed the dislike y/n had for the new exchange student, I thought it would be best to give her some space and I only thought it would be temporary. But if I knew my decision was going to end like this, I wouldn't say that. It’s all my fault. Because of me-”
“Saying it now will not change anything, Lucifer.” Mammon cut in Lucifer’s rambling. “For now, we should go see y/n. She is likely to be at Purgatory Hall.”
“But I don’t think she will meet us. She even…” Belphegor stopped, like it was physically painful for him to say it out loud. “She broke the pact. I am sure she hate us now.”
“Whether y/n accepts us or not is her decision. It’s our duty to go and ask her why she did that.” Mammon replied looking mature for once.
“ Yes. I agree with Mammon. It is not like sitting here and worrying will change anything,” said Lucifer as he regained his composure.
“ If you say so,” Asmodeus said.
And soon after, the brothers decided to go and meet you at the Purgatory Hall.
There was a knock on the main door and Luke went and opened hurriedly, thinking it was Barbatos. So, imagine his surprise when he saw all seven of the brothers standing in front.
“Is y/n here?” asked the Pride.
The face of the brothers are even more tense than the night of the incident with Belphegor many months ago. So, Luke noticed immediately like the matter is quite serious and invited them in timidly.
They waited inside the living room and after a while someone came in. Simeon and Luke went out a second before seemingly giving them privacy. But the one who came in is not who they hoped to see.
“I thought we said we wanted to see y/n. Why are you here?” Satan said his wrath lacing his voice.
“ Yes. But she is too tired to see any of you. It is not like you don’t know what kind of ritual she had to go through today.” Solomon answered and effectively pointing out about the broken pacts. “If you have anything to say, I will relay to her tomorrow when she wakes up.”
“It is not something outsiders can interfere,” said the youngest.
“It is you guys who broke y/n down so much that she had to rely on an outsider like me.”
“Solomon!” Asmodeus shouted to his first master, “We are here to apologize her. Now that we have lost the pact, we finally realized we cannot live without her. No matter what she did, it was wrong for us to do something like kicking her out. That is why we want to mend our relationship and reform our pacts. There is no one for us than y/n.”
“No matter what she did? Are you still thinking y/n cursed the new human?”
“Did she not?”
“As y/n's mentor, I am most knowledgeable about her power. Although y/n has immerse magic, it is incompatible to the curse type incarnation. Thus, she cannot be the culprit. Knowing that, I have been investigating secretly and found out that the new student cursed herself and put the blame on y/n because she hated her. She also drunk a potion so that you won’t be able to detect her envy. Being so infatuated the girl, any of you didn’t notice it, did you?”
All of the brothers had nothing to say back to Solomon.
“She had done so much for you, going out of her way to solve your family’s long lasted problems and healed your traumas. And you paid it back by chasing her away!”
Solomon let all of his anger out without caring what the brothers could do to him. All that remained in his heart was just the hatred he held for the brothers for making you suffer. It is not like him to lose himself to such emotions. But after seeing everything you had to go through because of them, he could not remain calm.
“You human! You should watch what you say.” Suddenly, Lucifer jumped towards Solomon in his demon form and held him by his collar. “We have already told you that we have no want for an outsider. So, we want y/n.”
“Who is the outsider here? And Lucifer, are you sure you want to do this. Solomon is also one of your precious humans from the exchange program and if you hurt him, you would inconvenience Diavolo, wouldn’t you?” You said as you came in to the living room, supported by Simeon.
“Y/n, you should still be resting in bed.”
“It is ok, Solomon. I have recovered a little,” you said, smiling reassuringly to him. And you looked towards the brothers. “So, Lucifer, could you let go of him?”
You no longer held the role of his master but Lucifer still cannot bring himself to disobey you. So, he let go quickly.
After seeing that, you continued, “ I knew you would come and ask me about the pacts but to think you would come this fast.”
“Then can you tell us why you did that?” asked Beelzebub.
“Are you asking me that? You should know why, right? A pact represent the relationship between us and since our connection was broken, I thought it would be better to nullify the pact, too.”
“Our connection is not broken. We all thought that it was a small and temporary thing like Lucifer tying Mammon up to the ceiling,” Leviathan explained.
“Y/n,” Mammon reached out to hold your hand. “I am sorry. I am really sorry I am not able to understand your emotions.” But he stopped hearing you shouted a “Stop!”
“Please stop. It’s not like I hate you. I understand it would be bad for a incident a human faced to remain unsolved if you want the exchange program to be a success.”
“But it still didn’t changed the fact you abandoned me when you found another. And no one can grantees it won’t happen again. I love you too much so I am sure I will die if it were to happen again. But of course, we can still remain as friends. All that has changed is that I now stayed in Purgatory Hall and we no longer have a pact. But it’s absence is not that obvious since I don’t use it frequently in the first place. ” All brothers remained silent through your speech. You looked over at the brothers and gave a small smile.
“I understand,” Lucifer was the first to speak up.
“But Lucifer!” Asmodeus rejected but stopped when he saw the pain in his brother's face.
“If it is your decision, I will follow it,” the signature prideful look is no where to be found on Lucifer. “Just know that we will always be waiting for you should you change your mind and we will never EVER let you down again.”
“I will keep it in mind.”
After that, the brothers left the Purgatory Hall.
“I am sorry I decided without consulting to you first. But Simeon, Luke and Solomon, may I live here with you from now on, too?”
With a smile, Simeon answered “Of course, darling.”
“Then you should go rest now, y/n. Come. I will accompany you to your room.”
“Ok, Solomon.”
When you reached your room, you spoke to him, “Thanks… for standing up to the brothers earlier. And thanks for getting angry for me.”
“It’s nothing. And for your knowledge, I am not getting angry for you. I just hate them because they hurt the girl I like.”
“Eh? What do you mean?”
“I meant what I said, y/n. I like you. It starts as a small interest since you managed to form pacts with the brothers one by one. But those don’t matter anymore. I like you, you and your everything. To be honest, I was a little happy when I first heard you argued with the brothers because they didn’t let me approach you before. Will you be willing to go out with a twisted mage like me?”
Solomon helped you when you were at your lowest. And he was willing to stay by your side, even though you don’t have the power of pacts anymore. You felt tears well up in your eyes from happiness.
“If you are willing to have me, I will be glad to become your girlfriend,” you said.
He hugged your form tightly like the night you left the House of Lamentation.
And finally, he smiled a genuine smile, glad that his plans went well. But you don’t have to know that it was him who gave the new exchange student the necessary potions and taught her how to curse herself. Actually he wasn't too eager about this plan but he had no choice. Like he told you, the brothers won't let him approach you if he didn’t go to such extreme measures.
Moreover, the fact that he pulled some strings doesn't matter much since the ending was a happily ever after with you.
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astroangel23 · a month ago
Pick a Card: Your current reputation🗨️💭🥱
Disclaimer: These are purely opinions that can be completely false! Opinions people have of you can switch up in the blink of an eye; it's one of the many human conditions 🌀
If interested in booking a personal reading with me check out the link in my bio 🧿🤍
donations are always deeply appreciated:
Venmo: Carrie-Overton Cashapp: $Currien23
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Pile 1: People love you guys! There's literally nothing people have to say about you that would paint you in a negative light. You don't hesitate to answer the phone, to help carry in groceries, or to help that elderly person cross the street. You strive to see the best qualities that people carry over the bad ones. You could be a life coach or just someone that doesn't hold back any advice that could help people in their own daily life. You are very nutruing and pull in people that are in need of a little guidance. There is heavy earth angel energy in this pile. Also, people speak on the amount of growth you've already accomplished and how far you're going to get in this life through your giving nature. You touch people's hearts and you are completely irreplaceable."and if you wanna leave I guarantee you won't find anyone else like me" - Astro Angel 💚
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Pile 2: The current reputation that people have formed of you is that you aren't leaving your comfort zone, your peaceful state of mind for anything or anyone. There may be people from your past that you have cut ties with or just simply put up boundaries with that are saying you've switched up, that you're fake, or that you've become a boring and bland person. You could have been a little wild in your past and these people hold onto those memories of you and refuse to accept that you've moved on from that version of yourself. These are the people that never leave that highschool mindset full of gossip and drama. They go out of their way to try to snoop on you through your social media or by asking around just so they have s o m e t h i n g about you to bring up in their next conversations. But honestly, they aren't finding much lmao. There isn't much of a reputation for this pile because you're so low-key. Imo, that's the best way to keep life happy and peaceful 🔒 "I don't check for these other bitches you can ask God cause that's my witness" - Astro Angel 💚
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Pile 3: There are different reputations for this pile, depending on who we're asking, so let's get into it. For the first reputation, people are saying you know how to whip up some mouth watering dishes in the kitchen 🥧 Cooking in general may excite you and bring you happiness which is why these dishes taste so good to others. For the second reputation, people are saying you definitely carry leadership qualities but they feel the need to walk on eggshells around you because you carry an energy of "it's your way or the highway" so they tend to keep opinions or thoughts to themselves when they are around you "but what I really want to know is, are you gonna go my way?". For the third reputation, people are saying that you're deeply spiritual and follow the signs of the universe; you believe in and trust the unseen. This makes 3D people uncomfortable because they have no idea what the fuck you're talking about but I do pile 3 and you should 100% never let doubt from people who are not aligned to their own spiritual paths have any affect on you what so ever. Keep being your authentic self 🧨 - Astro Angel 💚
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Pile 4: The current reputation others are picking up about you is that you would rather walk your path independently than being forced to follow under someone else's rules or expectations. You carry a very nurturing and generous spirit but you wouldn't risk your independence or sacrifice your time and energy to save someone else. You know that at the end of the day, no one's got you like you got you, so you 100% make sure that you're good before going out of your way for someone else. Instead of forcing things, you'd much rather let things come, run its course, and dip out as soon as it's over. You trust in the timing of the universe. You are completely okay with accepting you are where you're supposed to be in every moment instead of spending your time wondering "what if?". Sometimes people wonder if you even want or need them around or not lmao. "you don't have to call, it's okay squirrel cause I will be alright tonight" - Erykah Badu 📴 - Astro Angel 💚
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straywrds · 25 days ago
About silent readers: reblogs vs likes, feedback/tags vs empty reblogs
Often, I write stories and I feel like I could just give the google docs link to about a dozen or so of people who are my friends, and this would amount to about 98% of my known readers. The other 2% I can name their urls and their first names and they are very faithful readers with whom I have a good relationship and would also share the link of said Google docs with. It could happen on Discord, on another platform.
And really, I could do all of that. But then why do I have hundreds of followers on this blog? Why do some of my stories get hundreds of notes? Who are y'all?
At the end of the day, I think that a lot of this is misunderstanding the way how tumblr works as a platform/website! It is not social media, it is a blogging platform. Many people have come to me saying they didn't know how to use the website because they're new, so hey! This is for you guys who are willing to learn!
Why are writers asking readers to reblog instead of liking posts? Because likes do nothing. There is no algorithm on tumblr, it doesn't work like tik tok or insta. To get visibility, you HAVE to get reblogged. A like doesn't take you anywhere. So if you enjoyed reading that story, please consider reblogging it as it will boost the post, and indicate to the author that this chapter or this story was especially successful. It will motivate them to write more things of that nature, making you, readers, happier! All the while, the author will be happy to see that people actually read the story/chapter which will give them a lot of support and encourage them to write more!
Why are authors asking for feedback? This is in the same vein as 1, honestly. Since authors have started voicing their concerns over the amounts of likes on posts (frankly I have seen this complaint from other kinds of content creators! it is a plague!) I've personally noticed an increase in reblog amounts... except I still have no fucking clue if people ACTUALLY read/like the story... Because a lot of them are empty reblogs. No caption, no tags. Literally, we're kind of asking this for YOUR own good... it doesn't mean I'm gonna forget my creative side and go 100% fanservice, but I promise you that when I get especially good reactions from something, it'll be something I will keep in mind when writing in the future. Again, to the benefit of YOU, readers. We're not attention seeking whores. It kind of sucks to think you're throwing your stories into a void.
so what should I, a reader, do then? why is a reblog, even empty, not quite enough? Again. The lack of an algorithm is both a curse and a blessing. I'll always appreciate reblogs, even empty. And I'm not here shitting on likes either. But like... there is a "proper" way to be using tumblr... and I'm not demanding this of anyone, but it's just like, how it is. And trust me, I've been on here for about 10 years. I've seen shit. The same way when you go to your city library there are certain procedures when you borrow a book. Technically you COULD just... sit at the library all day and read the book and never have it checked out in your name. Technically maybe you could sneak it out somehow which is literally illegal. But that's just not what you do at a library, is it? Well it's kind of like that for tumblr. There are "procedures" due to the nature of the website itself. It's not social media, it's a blogging platform, as I said earlier. You're not gonna get arrested if you simply Like a story you read, or if you read it and keep scrolling without even giving it a Like. BUT IT'S NOT HOW IT'S MEANT TO BE. 
So how is it meant to be? I promise you, we don't expect every single person to write an essay about our lil kpop story. But here's the "procedure" when it comes to tumblr, which I can understand is quite different to what other platforms most people are using these days.
you enjoy the post, the story? amazing. you could give it a like as a start. you could also give it a like if you're in a hurry but this fic looks so good and omg you don't want to lose it!! so you give it a like and it will be stored there, in your likes, for later.
you read the story and it was good! AMAZING, I'M SO HAPPY FOR YOU. That something you consumed for FREE provided you with a few minutes of escapism. <3 Now, you could just leave it there. Or MUCH BETTER, you could reblog it, as authors have been asking. An empty reblog is better than no reblog, they say. Yes, but it's not the "procedure"
Here's how tumblr is meant to be used: when you reblog, if your commentary is lengthy, add it as a caption. You can also add links there if that's what you wish, and it's easier to quote in a caption as well, etc.
Then, there are tags. you don't NEED to tag, but you can use the tags simply to signal the author what was the purpose of your reblog (we see your tags in our notifications). Is it a "to read later" or "something I read and liked" kind of reblog?
examples of tags you can add to your reblogs when you reblog our works! "to read later" / "bookmark", "fic rec" / "reblog for boost" etc. even just a damn heart emoji signals us that you actually read the fucking thing and didn't hate it.
also: it will organize your blog! if you tag by "tbr" vs "fic rec" you can find things more easily later. you can also organize them by genre and members etc! it's really convenient for you too.
But also: consider sparing a couple of minutes to tell your favorite authors what you did like about their new one-shot or chapter. Just a few words, I promise, makes a big difference. Also, this gets you reblogged by them, and they interact with you, giving you some love in return. Isn't that a win-win situation?
Can't the world use just a little bit more love and kindness in it, even if it's "just" about a lil kpop story?
"But I'm shy, I don't want the author to see I reblogged their works!" Okay, first off, shy? A reader, shy? About what? I respect you and I respect that but... We're here writing shameless smut and pouring our time and soul into that and sharing that to the public? So why would you be shy about reading it? If it's because you have a main blog that you want to keep SFW, you can create a sideblog for reading. But also don't be shy to your authors?????? idk I don't get that one. I write about pretty boys and cocks and whatnot. You read about it. It's a special connection, my beloveds. It is what it is. We're in this together <3 deluluville.
How is it not all the readers' fault? There is no "bookmark" button on tumblr and the Replies are limited. I kind of wish they would add a bookmark option such as the one on tiktok where the creator is notified of the favorite/bookmark on their content. I think it makes sense. But this is a free website so we're just gonna do our best with what we have.
This post is not a personal attack on anyone. But I pay close attention to you, my readers. I really do, I promise. I do so fondly. I read your urls, I check your blogs, your themes, your user pics... sometimes, some of you will mass like an entire series in the span of a minute, only to never interact with it after. Worse, I've seen people UNLIKE them, chapter by chapter, over the course of a day or two, after they read them! I know that to someone who is new this may not sound like an offense but I promise you, it's a little rude to do that actually!
I'm not asking for anything. I'm just explaining a situation. I understand the silent readers in a way but I mostly understand the author, as an author myself. At the end of the day, we write for ourselves but we post on here to share this with you. Not FOR you. WITH you. It helps us grow as authors and maybe, reading some stories on here helps you grow as a person. I like to think that we learn something from each piece of art that we consume. Even lil kpop fics, yeah...
I wish silent readers understood that this isn't purely AGAINST them. we WANT to keep writing and share with you. we WANT to keep this going. But the more time goes, the more people move away from tumblr onto other platforms. you will lose authors, and usually it's the good ones that leave. So keep that in mind, just think about it all. We all just want to be happy!! I've learned so much from my readers, and a lot of them have become my friends!
Nothing bad can come out of you interacting a little bit more with the authors you like. I promise.
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sylvielauffeydottir · a year ago
Hello, it is I, your friendly neighborhood historian. I am ready to lose followers for this post, but I have two masters degrees in history and one of my focuses has been middle eastern area studies. Furthermore, I’ve been tired of watching the world be reduced to pithy little infographics, and I believe there is no point to my education if I don’t put it to good use. Finally, I am ethnically Asheknazi Jewish. This does not color my opinion in this post — I am in support of either a one or two state solution for Israel and Palestine, depending on the factors determined by the Palestinian Authority, and the Israeli Government does not speak for me. I hate Netanyahu. A lot. With that said, my family was slaughtered at Auschwitz-Birkenau. I have stood in front of that memorial wall at the Holocaust memorial in DC for my great uncle Simon and my great uncle Louis and cried as I lit a candle. Louis was a rabbi, and he preached mitzvot and tolerance. He died anyway. 
There’s a great many things I want to say about what is happening in the Middle East right now, but let’s start with some facts. 
In early May, there were talks of a coalition government that might have put together (among other parties, the Knesset is absolutely gigantic and usually has about 11-13 political parties at once) the Yesh Atid, a center-left party, and the United Arab List, a Palestinian party. For the first time, Palestinians would have been members of the Israeli government in their own right. And what happened, all of the sudden? A war broke out. A war that, amazingly, seemed to shield Benjamin Netanyahu from criminal prosecution, despite the fact that he has been under investigation for corruption for some time now and the only thing that is stopping a real investigation is the fact that he is Prime Minister.
Funny how that happened. 
There’s a second thing people ought to know, and it is about Hamas. I’ve found it really disturbing to see people defending Hamas on a world stage because, whether or not people want to believe it, Hamas is a terrorist organization. I’m sorry, but it is. Those are the facts. I’m not being a right wing extremist or even a Republican or whatever else or want to lob at me here. I’m a liberal historian with some facts. They are a terrorist organization, and they don’t care if their people die. 
Here’s what you need to know: 
There are two governments for the occupied Palestinian territories in the West Bank and Gaza. In April 2021, Palestinian President Mahmoud Abbas postponed planned elections. He said it was because of a dispute amid Israeli-annexed East Jerusalum. He is 85 years old, and his Fatah Party is losing power to Hamas. Everyone knows that. Palestinians know that. 
Here’s the thing about Hamas: they might be terrorists, but aren’t idiots. They understand that they have a frustrated population filled with people who have been brutalized by their neighbors. And they also understand that Israel has something called the iron dome defense system, which means that if you throw a rocket at it, it probably won’t kill anyone (though there have been people in Israel who died, including Holocaust survivors). Israel will, however, retaliate, and when they do, they will kill Palestinian civilians. On a world stage, this looks horrible. The death toll, because Palestinians don’t have the same defense system, is always skewed. Should the Israeli government do that? No. It’s morally repugnant. It’s wrong. It’s unfair. It’s hurting people without the capability to defend themselves. But is Hamas counting on them to for the propaganda? Yeah. Absolutely. They’re literally willing to kill their other people for it.
You know why this works for Hamas? They know that Israel will respond anyway, despite the moral concerns. And if you’re curious why, you can read some books on the matter (Six Days of War by Michael Oren; The Yom Kippur War by Abraham Rabinovich; Rise and Kill First by Ronen Bergmen; Antisemitism by Deborah Lipstadt; and Israel: A Concise History of a Nation Reborn by Daniel Gordis). The TL;DR, if you aren’t interested in homework, is that Israel believes they have no choice but to defend themselves against what they consider ‘hostile powers.’ And it’s almost entirely to do with the Holocaust. It’s a little David v Goliath. It is, dare I say, complicated.
I’m barely scratching the surface here. 
(We won’t get into this in this post, though if you want to DM me for details, it might be worth knowing that Iran funds Hamas and basically supplies them with all of their weapons, and part of the reason the United States has been so reluctant to engage with this conflict is that Iran is currently in Vienna trying to restore its nuclear deal with western powers. The USA cannot afford to piss off Iran right now, and therefore cannot afford to aggravative Hamas and also needs to rely on Israel to destroy Irani nuclear facilities if the deal goes south. So, you know, there is that).
There are some people who will tell you that criticism of the Israel government is antisemitic. They are almost entirely members of the right wing, evangelical community, and they don’t speak for the Jewish community. The majority of Jewish people and Jewish Americans in particular are criticizing the Israeli government right now. The majority of Jewish people in the diaspora and in Israel support Palestinian rights and are speaking out about it. And actually, when they talk about it, they are putting themselves in great danger to do so. Because it really isn’t safe to be visibly Jewish right now. People may not want to listen to Jews when they speak about antisemitism or may want to believe that antisemitism ‘isn’t real’ because ‘the Holocaust is over’ but that is absolutely untrue. In 2019, antisemitic hate crimes in the United States reached a high we have never seen before. I remember that, because I was living in London, and I was super scared for my family at the time. Since then, that number has increased by nearly 400% in the last ten days. If you don’t believe me, have some articles about it (one, two, three, four, and five, to name a few). 
I live in New York City, where a man was beaten in Time Square while attending a Free Palestine rally and wearing a kippah. I’m sorry, but being visibly Jewish near a pro-Palestine rally? That was enough to have a bunch of people just start beating on him? I made a previous post detailing how there are Jews being attacked all over the world, and there is a very good timeline of recent hate crimes against Jews that you can find right here. These are Jews, by the way, who have nothing to do with Israel or Palestine. They are Americans or Europeans or Canadians who are living their lives. In some cases, they are at pro-Palestine rallies and they are trying to help, but they just look visibly Jewish.  God Forbid we are the wrong ethnicity for your rally, even if we agree.
This is really serious. There are people calling for the death of all Jews. There are people calling for another Holocaust. 
There are 14 million Jews in the world. 14 million. Of 7.6 billion. And you think it isn’t a problem the way people treat us?
Anyway (aside from, you know, compassion), why does this matter? This matters because stuff like this deters Jews who want to be part of the pro-Palestine movement because they are literally scared for their safety. I said this before, and I will say it again: Zionism was, historically speaking, a very unpopular opinion. It was only widespread antisemitic violence (you know, the Holocaust) that made Jews believe there was a necessity for a Jewish state. Honestly, it wasn’t until the Pittsburgh synagogue shooting that I supported it the abstract idea too.
I grew up in New York City, I am a liberal Jew, and I believe in the rights of marginalized and oppressed people to self-determine worldwide. Growing up, I also fit the profile of what many scholars describe as the self hating Jew, because I believed that, in order to justify myself in American liberal society, I had to hate Israel, and I had to be anti-Zionist by default, even if I didn’t always understand what ‘Zionism’ meant in abstract. Well, I am 27 years old now with two masters degrees in history, and here is what Zionism means to me: I hate the Israeli government. They do not speak for me. But I am not anti-Zionist. I believe in the necessity for a Jewish state — a state where all Jews are welcome, regardless of their background, regardless of their nationality. 
There needs to be a place where Jews, an ethnic minority who are unwelcome in nearly every state in the world, have a place where they are free from persecution — a place where they feel protected. And I don’t think there is anything wrong with that place being the place where Jews are ethnically indigenous to. Because believe it or not, whether it is inconvenient, Jews are indigenous to the land of Israel. I’ve addressed this in this post.
With that said, that doesn’t mean you can kick the Palestinian people out. They are also indigenous to that land, which is addressed in the same post, if you don’t trust me. 
What is incredible to me is that Zionism is defined, by the Oxford English Dixtionary, as “A movement [that called originally for] the reestablishment of a Jewish nationhood in Palestine, and [since 1948] the development of the State of Israel.” Whether we agree with this or not, there were early disagreements about the location of a ‘Jewish state,’ and some, like Maurice de Hirsch, believed it ought to be located in South America, for example. Others believed it should be located in Africa. The point is that the original plans for the Jewish state were about safety. The plan changed because Jews wanted to return to their homeland, the largest project of decolonization and indigenous reclamation ever to be undertaken by an indigenous group. Whether you want to hear that or not, it is true. Read a book or two. Then you might know what I mean.
When people say this is a complicated issue, they aren’t being facetious. They aren’t trying to obfuscate the point. They often aren’t even trying to defend the Israeli government, because I certainly am not — I think they are abhorrent. But there is no future in the Middle East if the Israelis and Palestinians don’t form a state that has an equal right of return and recognizes both of their indigenousness, and that will never happen if people can’t stop throwing vitriolic rhetoric around.  Is the Israeli Government bad? Yes. Are Israeli citizens bad? Largely, no. They want to defend their families, and they want to defend their people. This is basically the same as the fact that Palestinian people aren’t bad, though Hamas often is. And for the love of god, stop defending terrorist organizations. Just stop. They kill their own people for their own power and for their own benefit. 
And yes, one more time, the Israeli government is so, so, so wrong. But god, think about your words, and think about how you are enabling Nazis. The rhetoric the left is using is hurting Jews. I am afraid to leave my house. I’m afraid to identify as Jewish on tumblr. I’m afraid for my family, afraid for my friends. People I know are afraid for me. 
It’s 2021. I am not my great uncle. I cried for him, but I shouldn’t have to die like him. 
Words have consequences. Language has consequences. And genuinely, I do not think everyone is a bad person, so think about what you are putting into the world, because you’d be surprised how often you are doing a Nazi a favor or two. 
Is that really what you want? To do a Nazi a favor or two? I don’t think that you do. I hope you don’t, at least.
That’s all. You know, five thousand words later. But uh, think a little. Please. 
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takalzuoom · 7 months ago
Hi! I really enjoyed your headcannons about Leona and Riddle as reader’s besties. Can I please request best friends hcs for Vil and Malleus?
Omg I’m writing this in English
But I’m so glad you enjoyed the riddle and Leona scenarios 🙈
Oh my god i literally loved writing this like- this is probably one of my favorites to write, i’m sorry for the wait but tysm requesting 🙈
May have overindulged in malleus… 😺
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oh my god
Even if you're nice i can immediately imagine the plastics
With you vil (and sometimes) rook, you're unstoppable and cause people to have nightmares
In order for you to even be seen together, you have to have pride in your appearance, But if you have opposite aesthetics,i think you’re gonna have to be pretty tame cause if you get a little too … wild, he’ll literally bully you💀
But other than that- he's an absolute menace- like he’d absolutely throw away your lunch, look back at you and smile saying ‘you’ll thank me for this later’
You never knew what happened to it, but once you see it sitting prettily on his vanity, you know the gesture meant a lot to him
Okay listen- you literally become his emotional support friend
He won't go anywhere without you😭 that's only if you’ve been friends for super long and know him- like really know him
(Your relationship reminds me of me and my sisters, her constantly calling me into her room to hang out while she does whatever with hair and makeup while I’m on my phone talking to her)
Though some people point out that you're basically his assistant, you both know that's just chatter as Vil trusts you immensely.
Cause he’s someone who solely believes that you should do important matters yourself, but he’s let his guard down and let you lighten his load a bit
(That’s an unspoken indicator that you values you far more than you’d ever know)
The industry is hard and you can’t trust anyone- so knowing youre there in his corner, or even there in general relaxes him a bit, though its very uncomfortable at first
He may appear to be a diva, but even he sometimes gets caught up in his head.
While i dont see him skipping meals, he will calorie count
And if it’s a bad day / week, I can see him freaking out if even one minisquill of pigment is out of place. He’ll probably throw his things on the floor and grip at his hair as he refuses to cry.
He has a lot of pent up rage so 😿
You will definitely have to keep an eye on him. Don't confront him in public or else he will point out your flaws, bringing the unwanted attention to you
“Stressed? Potato are you feeling well? You don't look… heh, well as you do usually “ he gives you a once over “so go along to your dorm and catch some rest…”
You always know what gossip’s going on.
How Leona failed his last test. Or malleus cried in class. How Riddle talks to animals. You. Know. Everything.
I see him as valuing your opinion, so sometimes when he isnt sure if he likes how a shoot / a photo came out, he’ll ask you- sometimes taking your judgment other times doing the opposite
Screams at the tv 💀
Like yall could be watching cheer and when they’re at Daytona he’ll shush you any time you try to talk, or (when he knows no one is in a square radius of his room, dorms closed, windows locked, rook hunting- he’ll start screaming
Has no problem confronting people, if one of your friends block you for no reason, he’ll go up to them (when he deems fit) and ask why they’d do that
Basically an extrovert adopting an introvert if you truly think about it
He’s gotta keep you on your toes
“…What are you wearing?”
“…I thought it was cute…”
“oh… well you look like the ugly duckling who got dumped in oil and cooked alive- go change”
If you think he doesn't give you a weekly makeover and give you a proper skin care routine, you're deadly mistaken
In his free time I can see him totally helping you with potions and chemistry, and since he’s into skin care and make up he’ll just suddenly nerd out while looking at different skin care products
… close to being a Karen- has class and he’s socially conscious so he isn't
Also will help you with social media rules and social rules if you‘re oblivious about them (like me)
Will give you pep talks that will linger with you for months, maybe even a whole year as Vil knows what he’s talking about
You need him as much as he needs you, and if someone tries to tell you differently, they’ll suddenly have the worst luck 🤥
He tries to keep you out of the spotlight as 1/ he doesn't want you to get involved and 2. It’s his spotlight. So when you're out you’ll have to keep yourself disguised since he’s as conscious about his reputation as he is his skincare
Gives you the ‘boys are shit’ talk
“but you’re a guy”
“no. i’m a queen, rook is a boy”
“excuse you but i’m a man”
But over all, yall are staying best friends - forever 😈
Keeps you away from neige
matching outfits that aren’t tacky
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omg, omg my little pony didn't prepare him enough for this
In order for you guys to become friends, you’d either have to not know who he is, be paired up as partners, or talk to him as a dare 💀 (Please keep that one to yourself, cause his three musketeers will literally ruin you)
But please, he's so happy that you actually talked to him. just walking with him to class will lift his spirits, and he’ll look forward to talking to you again
And, yeah at first he’s awkward, you are too cause ‘why are people looking at me like they’ve seen a ghost’
But please. Be kind. He’s a sweetie 😿
Gives you the weirdest nicknames, ‘child of man’ being his favorite
call him mal or mal-mal and he’ll gleam with delight
But the more you spend time with him, figuring out he's more… odd, than intimidating
The people in diasomnia are blessed with actual sunshine and thats bringing his retainers through a loop becuase- what the fuck is wrong with malleus?
Sebek is losing his head and lilia,albeit amused since he never saw this side of him, wants to know what’s going on. and silver’s in one of his classes so he knows
You definitely get cornered by them💀 sorry bro but they’ll probably threaten you DBFNCOISUJGR
And when sebek literally degrades your entire bloodline and calls your mom a ‘wench’ you start to avoid malleus :(
He tries to talk to you but you're always either in a hurry or whisked away by one of the first years…
“Oh… I see”
Cue sebek, lilia and silver watching from a corner
So a week passes
…and 17 diasomnia students have ended up in the infirmary because of the constraint lighting strikes-
And three of them finally put 4 and 4 together and realize they’ve possibly made a mistake (lilia already knew this, but he just wanted to see what happens- cheeky little bastard👹)
And malleus, finally having enough comes up to you as you’re playing with grim, freezes everything in time expect you and just- talks
10 minutes later y'all are friends again and going to get lunch😻
Ignores his retainers for a day
He’s definitely a passive person. Not being able to say his disdain for things out right, but with carefully crafted words he could call someone’s mom a whore and they’d be thanking him for the supposed compliment
Honestly if people see you around malleus they’ll genuinely think he’s threatening you / holding your family hostage
“Blink twice if youre in danger”
“Why would they be in danger? Are they being threatened? If so…” 😟
But then again- scary dog privileges👁👁
Which has resorted to multiple rescue attempts from the first year squad
He’s a little jealous when they succeed cause he wants to join in on the fun too :((
You join the gargoyle research club! He asked you and since you didn't have anything going on at the time, and needed some kind of breather from… the trio of mayhem
Plus he looked so… lonely 🤥
Some times he’ll say there’s an emergency meeting and takes you out of class just to wander around the school after coaxing from lilia
He loves hearing about your adventures with the first years, loving the way your eyes sparkle and you talk animatedly about what goes on. Just.
*sighs dreamily*
Out of all of them i think it’s easiest to get into a relationship with malleus
Please do makeovers with him. Stick those saturated butterflyclips in his hair and attempt to do different makeup and hair styles on him and he’ll be so happy, on the inside, with a slight smile is on his face on the outside
Don't let sebek catch you though-
“What are you doing to the young master! Let go of him this instant!”
Extra credit points if its mlp related
(Malleus watches mlp literally fight me- yall binge it too.)
Flexes accidentally 🧍🏻
Like no, he’ll talk about how on break he went to some exotic island like its nothing you only found out that it was rich and exotic when ace and deuce look like they were about to faint when you told them he invited you
I WANNA MAKE RELATIONSHIP HEADCANONS FOR HIM CAUSE UGHUREGHF- he will secretly court you if he likes you 🧍🏻
Okay back on track, even though he’s the ‘big bad malleus’ he has bad nights too, where he just cuddles into his covers, and hides himself from the world, that was truly when you realized he’s just like everyone else. That he’s not some robot. Some kind of a golden pedestal that sebek constantly has him on
You platonically cuddle cause he’s so touch starved- he’s either FREEZING and incredibly warm. No in between.
Sebek has approached you repeatedly asking you ‘how to get closer to the young master’
And you, still. Not over him practically calling your mom a whore, tell him to just, open his eyes a little more walks around with his eyes wide the next day- GBFNVIOSEF IK HE’S NOT FULLY OBLIVIOUS BUT WHEN IT COMES TO MALLEUS, C’MON
Out of everyone, i don't think you’ll have any true fights, malleus treasuring you, one of his only friends, so he makes sure communication is there
Y’all are 4lifers. You're his ride or die.
You also help him try to talk to leona more cause he, for some reason, wants to be his friend and- oh my god the chaos that ensues
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lovely-rose-bouquet · 2 months ago
Dating Carlos Madrigal Headcanon
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My masterlist
-he's a flirt
- not the classical one that flirts with everybody, he’d only flirt with you if he really liked you and was serious about it
- and I will not lie
- he’s good at it
- like an absolute god
- he knows how to make you blush, no matter what
- like, you’d look around, and he’s in the exact same room, in a corner, and when you lock eyes with him, he smirks at you in the flirtiest way possible
- or one day, you just happen to run straight into him, you look up and he smirks at you again as you move away muttering an apology, he literally goes
‘Don’t be, I liked it.’
- or when you do something embarassing and look around to see if someone saw, you won’t find anyone looking your way. Anyone besides Carlos. You look his way with a slight blush, and he gives you a wink
- but he still has sweet habits that rarely show once you date him, but they’re there, soo
- like, he’ll be thoughtful enough to remember your favourite drink, just to get it for you whenever you go over at his house
- or whenever you’re scared, he holds your hand and caresses your palm with his thumb
- or he’d give you a small item, saying: ‘this reminds me of you’
- or he’ll play with your hair if you let him
- he will always text you: ‘Good morning’ and ‘Good night’ no matter what
- or if you’re having a bad hair day, all you gotta do is text him and you’re already between his legs while he does your hair
- or he’ll let you borrow some of his books
- he’d share his drink with you (and it means something, since he’s a pretty hygenic person-)
- sometimes you’ll just catch him petting a random cat on the street while he talks to it
- he secretly has a whole playlist of your favourite songs
- whenever you have an argument with your parents or they just upset you, he’s literally the first person to comfort you (trust me, he knows what it’s like-)
- he always makes sure you ate enough, drank enough water and slept enough
- he loves when you two just go for a walk in the forest. It feels comfortig to him
- or indoor dates. They’re also in his cup of tea
- you two could either play video games or you’re in his arms while he plays the guitar for you (hdc from @carlosfruitsnacks)
- he’d literally play you any song you want
- but sometimes he just had a long day and you two end up cuddling in his bed while he reads with or to you
- he would absolutely melt inside if you would play with his hair while he does so
- you could also pretend to fall asleep and hear him whisper how much he loves you near your ear while he moves a strand of hair behind your ear
- you could also just cuddle up in a blanket with him while watching movies/series in his room
- he also always has snacks in his room, even your favourite ones, when you ask him about it he just goes “I don’t know. But I could also stop buying them if you want”
-he would definietly want his partner to be like Felix
- aka: calm, enthusiastic, honest, highly sensible even (since they can always absorb another persons emotion and therefor feel the, which would help since he’s not good at expressing his positive emotions) and ready to defend him no matter what
- they’d be to one to always calm his down whenever he’d get into a fight and patch his wounds up
- obviously, he’s the angriest one in an argument
angst and tw warning
- he’d cuss, he would slam his fist against a wall hard enough so they’d bleed, throw stuff around
- but it’s only when you fucked up badly
- if you’re like me, aka; someone who gets triggered by that kind of stuff and starts crying or panicking badly
- he stops
- like his heart shatters at the sight
- he instantly apologizes and tries to get near you
- if you flinch, he could start crying himself, but instead he just nods, while leaving the room so you can cool off
- later he gives it another shot and hugs you
- he never does it again after
- but if the scenario is different
- you have to yell at him to stop
- he does
- leaves the room and takes his anger out on something else
- he later takes your hand and apologizes
- he tries his best to not do so anymore
- he leaves the date choice up to you after that
- as another way of showing that he truly is sorry
- he even stops insulting you for like 1 week
- after that, everything goes back to normal
- one night, he’ll just as you
-”What even made you fall for me in the first place?”
- and you start to list off all the small things that made you fall for him
- you started by the way he’d get nicer to everyone when he was around you, followed by how he would always look at you whenever there was a boring class, how he would always defend you, how he once fought a boy who tried to touch you without permission, how he would always learn to play the exact same song you once hummed when around you and so much more that he literally had to shut you up from your ramble with a flustered face
- but the sparkle in your eyes when you talked about how his singing voice amazed you to no end, sometimes keeps him up late at night with a slight blush at the thought
- it reminded him that you always admired his talent in singing and he wants to thank you for it, but he can’t. So he just sings for you when you ask him to.
- when you first kissed him, he instantly pulled you in for another one
- like, you couldn’t even catch your breath
- you swore you saw him blush as you admitted that you loved him and he said that he loved you too
- he dosen’t really like to talk about it tho
- his way of showing you affection is mostly just teasing
-like, he’ll kiss your neck just to remark how ticklish you are if you laugh or squirm
-or he would flirt with you then make fun of you’re blushing
- he’ll literally go like
-”Aww, Are you blushing because of me?”
- but like in the most teasing tone ever
- and to add flavour, he’d even pinch your cheeks
- he would pet your head after
- or call you a simp
- either way, it’s teasing
- or if you’re doing something embarassing, he would mention it to you in order to fluster you
- but he’ll also go to hell and back for you
- ofc, he’d never admit it though-
- he’s sentimental
- go argue with the wall
- like, on holidays he would give you a box of chocolates with a love poem on it
-he would never admit that he wrote it tho
-but on your anniversary he would give you something handmade
- like, he would give you a love letter with roses (that he grew himself
- or he would make you two matching bracelets with your initials on it
- his main nicknames for you are kind of mean
- they’re like
-’ Tonto, idiot, dumbass or simp you know stuff like that (but not anything like to call you ugly or worthless!)
- there are rare moments when he ends up calling you
- amor, beautiful, pretty/handsome, darling or babe
- he won’t admit it but he knows which one’s your favourite and that’s your name in his contacts
- he does call you them when texting sometimes though
- He’d call you that when he’s like
-’Imy too amor’
- Or when he’s in a good mood he’s like
-’Good morning/night darling’
-It makes you all giddy and stuff
- his way of telling you that he loves you is how he acts with you in general
- he might come off as an ass and such
- but deep down, he really does care for you and your well being
-he even became a slightly better person when you two started dating
- he became a little nicer, got in to less fights, didn’t argue with his family as much anymore
- all because he was willing to change for you
- he’s really just a sweetheart deep down
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thedoctorisinlove · 3 months ago
i think eddie would be street smart so eddie with a book smart s/o?
like eddie pulling the reader to stay in the side of the road that has no cars n stuff
also maybe reader helping eddie to study for exams (he would NOT stop teasing i am sure of it)
eddie munson ; booksmart s/o headcanons
genre : fluff
pairing : eddie munson x gender neutral reader
disclaimer : mentions of making out
author's note : I'M BACK AND ALIVE. IT'S 3AM AND I CAN'T SLEEP AND I HAD A RANDOM SURGE OF MOTIVATION. i so agree with you on eddie being streetsmart and all of these cute little headcanons! thank you anon for requesting, i apologize for being extremely late. i had so much fun with this! 💟
⋆ first off: this man would literally not let you walk on the side of the road. he's always pulling you as far away from the road possible.
⋆ if he knows you guys are walking in a sketchy place, he'll be behind you and quickening his pace, his hand gripping firmly on your waist and his attention alert around his surroundings.
⋆ also he'd totally be the type to be so prepared. he doesn't trust the weather forecasts so he just guesses what the weather will be like from the clouds. if it's going to rain, he'll be sure to bring his tiny ass umbrella. most of the time he'll be walking in the rain while holding the umbrella up on you trying to not get you wet.
⋆ if he does underestimate the clouds and it ends up raining, he'll be trying to shield you from the rain (whether it be with a jacket or hell, even his physical body) and guide you to the nearest cover.
⋆ now, study sessons with eddie are either stressful as shit, chaotic, or super fun and cute. there's no in between.
⋆ 100% would be calling you his little einstein or heisenberg. any famous known prodigy to be honest. he'll also be asking the most idiotic questions with the most obvious questions ever, but only because he's genuinely curious and always turn to you for information (even if most of his questions are stupid, it's okay it's eddie he's hot).
⋆ now surprisingly, eddie is strangely motivated studying with you. he admires you so much for your intelligence which is ever the more reason he feels that he has to be "good enough" for you, hence why he's trying to please you by earning good grades. he's very insecure about his grades (even if he doesn't say so as much) and just wants your validation like that. 😭
⋆ rewarding him in kisses will only fire his motivaton on his studies more. he'll honestly just downright trick you into kissing him whenever. "my brain is drawing a blank, kiss me."
⋆ this man would not hesitate in cracking every foul, horrendous filthy joke that he can ever muster out of his mouth whenever you try to teach him on a subject that sounds somewhat dirty. and no, i will not go into detail.
⋆ he literally won't shut up the entire time unless he's doing the questions on the worksheet you've made for him or your lips on his. but that's not very recommended because he'll literaly be thrown off track of his studies with your sudden affection.
⋆ 100% the type to snack while studying. you'd be explaining some random formula and he'd crack open a bag of chips with no hesitations. he brings so much snacks every session but you can't complain because he purposefully bought your favorite snacks along.
⋆ if you show this man the beauty of highlighters, he'll start being obsessed with them. he's so childish and he just loves the fun, bright colors so he literally highlights everything with a highlighter (even if it's the most unnecessary information ever).
⋆ most of your study sessions between you two end up into make out sessions. especially when you're just rambling about something that he has no idea what you're talking about but he's like, watching you admiredley like "damn, i have no idea what they're talking about but they sound smart as hell." your intelligence just sparks something in him. 😭 "look, the work will do itself. a break'll never hurt anyone."
⋆ when exams are over and eddie is flaunting his passing grades (due to your help), please do reward him in praises. he lives for your praises and validation, he'll straight take you up right then and there.
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qqueenofhades · 12 days ago
1of 3) feel free to ignore this, but I'm doing Dracula Daily (never read it before) and I have a lot of feelings/thoughts and seeing as you've read it, I hope you don't mind if I rant a bit. I really want to shake Van Helsing until he starts telling people stuff. Like I can kind of get him not wanting to tell Seward that it's a vampire so he doesn't seem crazy and get institutionalized, but at some point, he should have told him anyway, or just made it clear that Lucy needs watching every night
2of3) and not just depend on telegrams/letters to tell him to watch her. But then she dies, and still instead of telling anyone what's going on, he just tells Seward that he needs to get him some surgeon tools so he can remove her head and heart (because talking about needlessly (at least to Seward) removing body parts of a corpse makes way more sense then mentioning a vampire and definitely makes him seem sane). He even talks about how they need to work together as one and need trust, of 3) and it's like my dude, have you even once considered how much easier it may be for people to work together with you as one, to trust you when you need it, if they have even a slight hint of what's going on? Personally if someone asks me to do something odd/hard/weird etc. I'm much more likely to do it, or at least complain less, if I know the reason besides a 'I'm so-and-so and you should do what I say' reason. Again, sorry for the rant.
Hush now. Of course I am delighted that people have so many feelings about a 19th-century classic horror novel that they want to come shout in my inbox about it! This is exactly why I love Dracula Daily as a concept, and think it's really clever. Everyone kind of.... already knows Dracula by cultural osmosis (he's a vampire! He has a swoopy dark cloak and he can turn into a bat! He sneaks around and Vants to Suck Your Blud!) but they are discovering they don't actually know many details about the text, and that modern adaptations have often totally slaughtered it in the aims of making it Sexy or otherwise introducing themes/readings that are not necessarily present in the original. So yes, I have read Dracula before, but I'm still really enjoying seeing the way Tumblr has gone ape for it and are all indignantly signing up for the Lucy Westenra and Mina Murray Defense Squad and drawing fanart and making memes and dropping casual references to the "polycule" and so forth. Yes.
Anyway, I wrote this post the other day discussing how everyone's over-reliance on traditional social conventions, and trying to follow the rules of how to be Good Victorians, has totally fucked them over. The whole point of what's going on is that they all keep trying to act like it's a normal situation and they need to be Decorous and Proper and Not Alarm Anyone, and like... that's the exact sort of thing Dracula feeds on (literally and metaphorically). Because he's weaponizing their extreme middle-class Victorian Englishness against them, where they can't talk to each other and they can't discuss how they feel and they can't be honest, all for fear of Offending Protocol, they're screwed. They can't coordinate, they can't do anything that might long-term help, and there is of course an interesting subtextual queer reading here, considering that Bram Stoker is universally considered to have been a repressed gay man who hid/denied his sexuality and lived in, to say the least, an openly homophobic society. Whether or not it was his primary intention to portray the rules of Good Victorian Behavior not working and instead actually actively harming people by forcing them to keep secrets and not trust that anyone else will believe them, it's an unavoidable theme in the text and one that a modern reader definitely picks up on with the benefit of hindsight.
Also, I think it's important to highlight that despite his 84 PhDs (of course he's a lawyer as well as a doctor) and generally being the book-smartest person in the story, Van Helsing has, at this point, comprehensively failed. He hasn't saved Lucy's life, he hasn't prevented her from turning into a vampire, he hasn't warned anyone else about what's really going on, he hasn't prevented Mrs. Westenra from being frightened to death, he hasn't told Arthur (poor Arthur!!!) anything about why he wouldn't even let him kiss his fiancee as she was dying, etc. And a huge part of this is because, as you point out, he hasn't told anyone anything. Van Helsing has often been narratively paralleled to Dracula, which I think is accurate: he is solely in charge of Lucy's health, as Dracula is the sole reason for hurting it. He tries to control Lucy, he tries to keep her loved ones in the dark, he tries to basically "have" her for himself -- all in the name of helping her, yes, but his treatment is just as ineffective as Dracula's assault is effective. Van Helsing means all the best, but he's kind of fucked it up!
And yes, the primary reason he's doing so is because he thinks that he alone is smart enough to solve the problem, he can't let anyone else onto his plans (even when Quincey strolled in, took one look, and was like "oh yeah this was like the time the vampire bit my horse" and asked the OBVIOUS FUCKING QUESTION of where all of Lucy's blood was going!) and he otherwise is the Only One. Just like Dracula's pride, arrogance, solitude, stubbornness, and insistence that his will/choices for Lucy are the only ones that matters, Van Helsing is doing the same thing, from the opposite side of the coin. That's why his methods can't possibly work to counteract Dracula and (as we will see in the latter half of the novel) they need to comprehensively rethink their entire strategy and discard all the old social rules and worry for "decorum" that has kept them from being honest with each other so far. But yes, we love us a good hero/villain narrative foil with the same flaws and the same methods. Which is what is definitely going on here. Because things such as Mrs. Westenra removing the garlic flowers happen because Van Helsing didn't even tell her that they were medicinal (you have one million doctorates, Abraham, make up a scholarly bullshit reason!)
So yes, as I said, and as we will see in upcoming entries, Following The Good Victorian Rules has fucked everyone over HARD, Van Helsing is acting like Dracula while trying to fix Dracula's damage and that's why it isn't working, and our heroes are going to need to have a comprehensive rethink of what they're doing and why, if they want to stop any of this in time. Dun dun dunnn!
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messers-moony · a year ago
King and Queen | S.B
Paring: Sirius Black X Fem!Potter!Reader, James Potter X Fem!Twin!Reader
Summary: James goes through a lot during his time at Hogwarts but his sister is always by his side.
Inspiration: Click
A/N: If this comes off insensitive to anyone please let me know and I will remove this.
James Potter was a handful. From the minute he was born, he had this gleam in his hazel eyes that raged and burned with trouble. His twin, Y/n Potter, was almost the opposite. The soft smile that laid on her features and the glitter of calamity in her eyes. Euphemia and Fleamont were in for a lot the minute their twins were born. 
Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder is most comparative to having a web browser up with one too many tabs. James had always been unable to focus and was naturally messy. Truth be told, he thought it was normal, just as everyone else did. It wasn’t until his second year at Hogwarts did he realize something was genuinely wrong with him. 
Remus told him that he had this muggle thing called “dyslexia,” which was a difficulty in interpreting words, letters, and other symbols. However, it never affected his overall intelligence because everyone knew that Remus Lupin was indeed and wholly brilliant. It got James wondering, did his inability to focus, be organized, and hyperactivity have a deeper meaning?
His twin - Y/n - was quite the opposite. She made quick friends with Remus, Sirius, and Peter, who were close friends of her twin. Y/n was top of their class, creating a friendly competition with Remus, but she was always able to focus. Often she would hyper-focus, which would leave her working for over five hours at a time without realizing it. In those times, James would have to snap her out of it. 
Over the summer, James expressed his concerns to his parents. He was talking about how this could be a real issue he’s facing using Remus’ dyslexia as an example. Eventually, they gave in, letting James go to a muggle doctor. James had to fill out a questionnaire that would come back with his results in one week. That week was probably the longest week of his life. Nonetheless, his test results had come back positive. 
Fleamont and Euphemia would be lying if they were surprised. After hearing about the disorder, it was almost the definition of their eldest son. Fortunately for James, the muggles had come up with a cure - no, not a cure - dammit, what was it again?
Impede the symptoms! That’s what those muggle pills do. James was required to take two pills a day, one in the morning and once at night. Y/n was in charge of making sure he did so because - more times than he’d like to admit - he would forget everything if it wasn’t for Y/n. 
In third year, James was as energetic as ever while getting on the Hogwarts Express, “Aren’t you excited, Y/n?!”
She chuckled, “Yes, but Merlin, you don’t need to literally jump with joy.”
“But I’m excited!”
“I know that.”
They made their way to the compartment that held Remus, who was reading a book. James sat in front of him while Y/n took her seat beside Remus, “‘Ello Remus.”
“Hey, Potter pair.”
Y/n sighed, and James groaned, “That nickname needs to go away.”
“I quite like it.” Remus stated smugly, “Suits you both.”
“What’s that suppose to mean?” Y/n accused falsely, “It means that wherever one of you are, the other isn’t that far behind.” Remus replied. 
James had zoned out already, and Y/n snapped in his face, “Take your pills?” 
“Forgot.” James muttered guiltily, “Oh Godric.” She whispered. 
“James went to a muggle doctor this summer.”
Remus quirked an eyebrow, “Did you now?”
“Got diagnosed with ADHD.” James informed, and Remus looked amiss, “Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder.”
“Ah, I’ve heard of that.” Remus said, and James smiled sheepishly, “I feel kinda odd, like out of place.”
“Dunno, just, why can't I be normal?”
“You are normal, James.” Y/n reassured, “And anyone who says differently obviously doesn’t care about you.”
The compartment door slammed open, “Who doesn’t care about who?”
Remus snorted, “Ever the dramatics, huh, mate?”
“‘Course.” Sirius flopped down beside James, “It comes with my charm and devilishly good looks.”
“Ah, yes.” Y/n said, chuckling, “Don’t you see how I’m swooning for you?”
The back of her palm was against her forehead, “Come off it.” James swatted at her and then elbowed Sirius, “Better not make my sister swoon.”
Sirius chuckled and shrugged, “Can’t help it. I’m just that irresistible.”
The four of them laughed at Sirius’ dramatics and continued talking about the new term. Remus and Y/n were talking about books they couldn’t wait to read. Remus was even kind enough to gift her some muggle books he bought over the summer holiday. Sirius and James bickered about what pranks to do this year, along with which ones were better. 
Third-year was fun. It was a year of flooding corridors, turning Slytherin robes red and blasting music in the common room after a Gryffindor victory. James was a brilliant Quidditch Chaser, and Y/n was a fantastic Seeker. Nothing was quite like the Potter pair. Something about them was just unforgettable. 
Maybe that’s why Sirius was so fond of her. Something about the Potters made people around them smile on the hardest of days. They made sure that every moment was a night to remember. Every memory was worth reliving. So adventurous, so reckless, yet so kind and loving. 
By the time fifth year rolled around, Sirius Orion Black had fallen off a cliff into a lake called love. Sirius completely submerged himself in love for Y/n Potter. The younger twin by just 20 minutes, but something about her was so divine. Was it her silk and glittering h/c hair? No - maybe it was her gleaming e/c eyes. Perhaps it was for her strive for adventure and extreme kindness. 
Nonetheless, Sirius fell hard.
And who better to tell than James Potter himself?
Causally - as usual - Sirius opened the door to the Marauders dorm. It was empty aside from the brunet boy with glasses on the bridge of his nose. His hazel eyes were focused on a textbook - Potions textbook - maybe it was to impress Lily. Sirius couldn’t care less, so he pulled the chair out in front of the desk and sat before James. 
“Mate, I need your help.”
“Running from Filch?”
“No. Something- Something worse.”
“Something worse?” The textbook shut loudly.
Sirius nodded, “Way worse.”
“Alright then, come into my office.” James teased, and Sirius grinned. 
It was silent, “I’m in love with your sister.”
James sputtered, “Excuse me?”
“I’m in love with Y/n.”
“No, no.” James waved his hand horizontally, “I heard you.”
“Then what else would you like me to say?” Sirius asked. 
“Literally anything else.”
“Sorry, mate.” Sirius muttered, “I- I really didn’t mean to.”
James chuckled and wiped his hand across his face, “I suppose you can’t really stop love, huh?”
“You really can’t.” Sirius agreed, “I tried. I promise I tried.”
“It’s not that big of a deal late.” James assured, and Sirius looked at him with wide eyes, “I trust you just-“
“I’m worried about her.” James completed, “I- I worry about her every night.”
Sirius softened, “It’s like you with Regulus-“ James continued before Sirius could interject, “And don’t pretend. Your silencing charms are bloody terrible.”
“I know you still care for Regulus, you worry about him every night, and I do the same for Y/n, except my silencing charms are better.” James teased sightly, “I trust you, Sirius. You’re the brother I never got but always wanted. You know, the brother I can play Quidditch with, rough around with, the brother who’s just as sneaky and mischievous as I.”
“But Y/n is still my blood. She's my twin, my best friend, my partner in crime. She was the mind behind my pranks before Remus.” James elaborated and then smirked, “Remus and Y/n make a great team, ya’ know?”
“They are quite brilliant.”
“Anyway, what I’m trying to say is, take care of her?” James looked like the eleven-year-old boy again, “Don’t make her a fling and don’t make this temporary.”
“Y/n is a strong woman, and she isn’t for weak men. I’ll be honest,” James chuckled, “She doesn’t need a man. She doesn’t even really need me. I need her more than she needs me. Regardless, take care of her. She deserves a man worthy of her. Someone that’ll get her ice cream at 4 a.m. because she’s craving it. Someone that’ll go on sporadic trips with her. Someone that’ll understand that after a hard day, all she wants is a book and coffee.”
Sirius was appalled; he’d never seen James look so passionate, “Growing up, mum always told me to be a gentleman. I know it may not seem like it sometimes, but she always raised me as one. To hold a door for them, push and push in their chairs for them, give them my jacket even if I’ll freeze.” 
“Those kinda things. Dad said I should practice on Y/n, and I did. From then, Y/n always got treated like a queen, and she deserves no less. I won't lie, my parents treat me like a king too, and I don’t want any less either.” James explained, “Be the king that’s worthy of my sister.”
“That’s all I ask of you.”
Sirius nodded, “I’d be honored to serve her as my queen.”
“And if you show her no less, she’ll spit you out like chewing gum.”
He shuttered, “I hate how accurate that phrase is.”
James laughed, “I know her more than you think.”
By sixth year they were dating. Sirius would be lying if he wasn’t eternally shitting himself when Y/n said yes to going to Hogsmeade with him, alone, as a date. In fact, James almost wanted to throw him a party for finally not being a little bitch and asking out his sister. This party consisted of a bottle of firewhiskey and chocolate because that’s all that was in the boy's dormitory. But a party nonetheless. 
When Lily rejected James for the last time before graduation, he was utterly heartbroken. He’d spent and dedicated seven years of his life to this gorgeous woman. Despite all his efforts and all his charms, she still wasn’t interested. James tried. He really tried. He wanted Lily so bad. His heart broke when she said her final words of goodbye.
“I’m sorry, Potter. Maybe in another life, just not this one.”
Tears had ebbed at the corner of his eyes as he made his way back into the castle from the Black Lake. In the common room, where he felt like he had just got dowsed in water. James made his way to the girl's dormitory. His hand curled into a fist and knocked lightly on the wooden door. Shuffling was heard from the other side, and the door finally opened, revealing his sister. 
Without warning, James crashed into her arms, forcing his nose in the crook of her neck, “Woah.”
“Are you okay, James?”
His body shook with sobs as he shook his head no, “It’s okay. Let’s go lay down, okay?”
Gently she led him to her bed. He curled up beneath the navy blue comforter and placed his head on the silk pillow sheets. If he tried hard enough, he could forget the way Lily’s hair smelt today or the way her green eyes glistened in the sun. Now engulfed in his sister's scent, trying to remove every feeling for Lily possible, he dug his nose deeper into the comforter. 
Y/n sat beside him, her back to the headboard, and ran her fingers through James’ already untied hair, “What's got you so worked up?”
“It’s done.”
“What’s done?”
“L- Lily and I.” James choked, “She- She really doesn’t want me.”
A new wave of tears overcame him, and Y/n continued to try and soothe him, “Well, she’s a tosser.”
James narrowed his eyes, “James, you know I love her. She's my best friend, but if she can’t see what’s right in front of her, then she’s an idiot.”
“Can I- Can I stay here tonight?” He asked hesitantly.
“You sure you don’t want me to stay at your dorm?” Y/n questioned, “Because you know who sleeps here.”
“Will you stay with me?”
“Till the end.”
After a couple of minutes, Y/n and James made their way down the steps to the boy's side. They walked up more steps and finally made it to the boy's dormitory. James collapsed on his bed in the left corner of the room, and Sirius perked up at seeing his girlfriend enter the room. 
“Whatcha doin’ here, love?”
“Staying with my brother.”
Sirius nodded and stood up to hug her, gently pecking her forehead, “If you guys need anything, let me know, ‘kay?”
“Thanks, Siri.” 
Gently Y/n pulled back the maroon curtain and sat down beside him again. James reached for her hand and intertwined their fingers. Something they used to do as kids. When a thunderstorm would go by, James would always seek sanctuary in his sister's comfort. 
He fell asleep that night, knowing he was safe, loved, and knew that someone cared about him. Even if Lily didn’t love him, at least someone else did. He had his boys, and he had his sister. Right now, that’s all he needed beside him: Screw Lily and her idiot decision skills. Y/n was right; she was a complete tosser. 
When Hogwarts was over, James and Y/n got a flat together. Sirius, Remus, and Peter got one only a floor above. Realistically this wasn’t the plan. James always planned to buy a house with Lily, but he was still healing, and after everything going on, it was vital for him to hold his sister close to him.
Euphemia and Fleamont barely lived to see their children graduate. Not too long afterward had died due to the horrid dragon pocks. It devastated both twins and Sirius. While Sirius wasn’t their true child, he very well could’ve. Euphemia noticed Sirius’s lingering stares on Y/n and the loopy smile that graced his features.
She was the one who got Sirius to man up. She was the one who gave him advice. She was the one who told him what books were her favorite, which chocolate she liked the best, her favorite quills. Euphemia was one of the main components in getting Sirius to date her daughter, and when it finally happened, the parents couldn’t have been happier.
James’ ADHD still remained even in his adulthood, making regular everyday tasks much harder and twice as long. Most of the time, the pills were able to help him complete those tasks. But sometimes, when Y/n wasn’t there to remind him, he would miss his days. When Y/n got home from work, she had barely taken off her shoes to see the apartment spotless.
It was a pleasant surprise, but James was never really one to clean, not that she really minded, but the apartment didn’t have a speck of dust on it. Hesitantly she put her keys on the island along with her bag.
“Yes, Y/n?”
He appeared in the kitchen where Y/n was, “Um, did you clean the apartment?”
“Yes, I did!” James nodded enthusiastically.
Y/n sighed and gave her brother a sweet smile, “What did you not do today?”
“So, you know how you told me to go to the pharmacy?”
“Mhm.” Y/n nodded, “Indeed I do.”
“Well, they were out of my meds.” James informed, “I have to wait a week.”
“Oh, Merlin.”
“On the bright side!” James was already causing her a headache, “It’s gonna be a fantastic week! I’ve got so many things planned for us! We’re gonna go-“
James continued to ramble as Y/n grabbed her keys, bag and slipped back on her shoes, “I’m going to Sirius’!”
“Thought you were my sister.” James faked pouting, and Y/n smiled, “I love you, but you’re crazy.”
“I love you too!” He yelled as she closed the door.
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kazuhasmaid · 11 months ago
Would you do that calling S/O by a different name prank? They are so cruel and should never be done to anyone in irl, but in fics they’re super cute!! Maybe with Zhongli, Tohma, Diluc? Or just one of them 💗💗
Hope this was the right place to ask, pretty new to tumblr and I saw you say to request in asks so 😅
calling him by the wrong name
zhongli, thoma, diluc x reader
word count: 1478
warnings/sidenotes: prank gone wrong, angst, insecurity, questioning, trust issues, slight story, ooc, overthinking, assumption, spoilers, pet names, comfort, lowercase intended and as always- these are never proofread.
a/n: i agree! this shouldn't be done to anyone, it can potentially create a foundation of distrust. it's very risky! ಥ‿ಥ i wonder how many couples have actually gone through pranks like this just for it to end just as fast they started to prank them..
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lumine and hu tao told you about the latest couple prank going on, no one knows where it started from but said to stir up some reaction from their significant other, oh how dare you try it.
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at the book store, with your significant other, your arms laced together, a book catches your attention and deciding to skim through its content to see if its to your liking, unhooking your arms from zhongli, you realize that you can't reach the book you were eyeing.
"childe can you please come help me reach this book?"
that's... not his name.
oh, maybe you're just tired, but he surely heard it right.
zhongli's very understandable that you and the harbinger are close, but... to the point of calling him childe? he trusts you very much but he can't help but feel concerned whether you truly thought you mistook him for childe, maybe it's the spur of your tongue or just tiredness.
"darling, you just called me childe, i see no signs of him anywhere near this store.." his eyebrows expresses worry as he once again glances around to solidify his statement.
"oh did i? i dont think so.. i called you by your name though."
"..im afraid i did hear it right, dearest." he sighs, not stepping further or near from where he was.
deciding that the tension was arising and questions in his head may begin to pop up, you decide to break the news to him.
you hug zhongli and look up at him, "im sorry, it was just a trending prank where you call your significant other by a different name and I shouldn't have taken it up, its a very dangerous prank too and i realize just how much im risking by pulling this off and i regret it, im so sorry again zhongli.."
"oh dear, you did scare me for a moment, my trust didn't waver but it was on the edge of questioning you if you had not decided to tell me that this was a prank" his arms wrap around you, looking down to you. he's just glad everything turned out to be a prank.
you still felt bad though, you realize he trust you so much and you'll have to make it up to him, you literally spoil him with affection and maybe even bought every book in his arm that probably cost 3 months worth of your salary but hey! nothing like his smile is just as priceless.
in the komore teahouse, you stop by with your boyfriend thoma, after an afternoon filled with an adventurous date with him, deciding that you two will settle for a good dinner to end today's date was the way to go. you spot the teahouse's dog, taroumaru, looking mightily cute as ever.
you sigh, "why can't i take home taroumaru, JUST ONCE AYATO! i think im pretty good at taking care of animals dont you think?"
thoma walks behind you and into the back of taroumaru's reception desk.
he takes five seconds until hes back out again, this time, looking at you,
"babe, ayato's not here." he looks at you as if he's trying to piece all what's going on around him
"huh? yeah i know! why are you bringing him up?" you grab one of the menus from the desk,
"...no i meant, you called me ayato."
"no i didnt."
"yes you did! ask taroumaru!"
you look over to taroumaru, knowing how this was gonna go, accepting the cue to put a stop to this prank. "taroumaru, did i really?"
taroumaru barks in response.
"SEE??? so babe why did you call me ayato? didn't know you guys were that close for me to be mistook.."
"oh thoma." you approach him, letting your arms wrap your neck and telling him your apologies and the reason how this all started, the poor man was beginning to be anxious just from this prank.
he eventually returned the hug while he began to go on how reckless you were for pulling something off like that, he would never dare pull off anything to make you question your relationship, so taking back revenge was off the table, he loves you too much to even pull off something that can start an unwanted tension.
that night, it was filled with laughter, complaints about your prank, and lots of comfort you provided to reassure thoma that he's the only one you love and see this way.
taking work off early, you come home to diluc who's as tired as you are, both busybodies of mondstat, you both couldn't wait to indulge in one another's arms.
"kaeya, did you see my bag with me when i came home? I can't remember if i took it home with me, left it or missing it."
uh-oh. you've strucked something.
diluc the ever untouchable uncrowned king of mondstat, was in awe of what just occured.
the name of another man leaving your mouth seemed to leave a bitter taste from his.
"love, i did see your bag with you so do not fret, but.. you called me kaeya. please do enlighten me."
diluc, who's been alone these years in regret of how things came to be, was at his state where questions popped in his mind, did that really just happened? so you mistook him? you really that close to kaeya? did he look alike kaeya somehow? what caused you to mistook him? was something going on? between the two of you? behind his back? and if so, since when? and why?
you were the only one who's made him feel love, the one who made him feel that he was not alone, the one who made him realize that it's okay not to be okay, the one who made him know that he's loved and cared for, though he knows he's overthinking right now, he couldn't help but jump to the conclusions of what's about to come or what has happened behind his back. fear. fear of losing you. fear of losing you, let alone to someone else he cares about too, his adoptive brother, kaeya.
diluc doesn't mean to overthink but the slightest incident can make him overthink and overanalyze this situation. realizing that this has gone too far though it has not shown, but his lack of attention towards you was the sign that you've gone far enough with this little prank of yours. you didn't need to see more, you knew diluc.
you frown to see him like this, you approach him, "apologies diluc, i indulged myself into a prank going around tevyat, and should have thought more about the consequences something like this would being, im an idiot for being curious like this when i know that i can't dare to put our relationship on the line with a prank as this. i truly apologize. i truly do. and i just want you to know, that i love you and no one else, that's all. im sorry once again. though sorry will not being back anything ive just pulled, i promise to continue showing to you just how i have eyes only for you and my heart to only love you and you only."
and with this, you see a tear falling from his right eye, he lets out a relieved sigh as he places his head on your shoulder, diluc shows his vulnerability to you and you only, the one he confides in, you wrap your arms around him to whisper comfort into his ears, no words from him were needed as you realize that a prank as "little" as this can be the wreckage no one would have thought at first glance.
the night was filled with cuddles, snuggling diluc, whispering sweet nothings as you both reconcile from this incident, continuing to keep watch over him till he gets his rest, kisses were made, words were said, tears were wiped but your hearts never stopped beating for each other. trust faltered for a second and any second longer would have turned out for the worst.
you were sure to note to write back to lumine and hu tao how this prank was dangerous and that you will not indulge into one of their pranks anytime sooner or ever, in fact. never once again will you put diluc's trust on the line again.
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©kazuhasmaid please do not copy, paste or repost. plagiarizing or republishing in a different language will not be tolerated.
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bokutoffee · 4 months ago
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Tap if You're There # f. toji
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# 01 | Phantom Beauty
↳ The first time you meet Toji, he hauls your ass out of a tree and raises three red flags consecutively: he sounds like your ex, calls you sweetheart, and uses the cheesiest pick-up line known to man.
pairing: fireman!toji x fem!reader
reader desc: she/her pronouns, feminine-presenting (wears skirts), cool with raising children. lmk if i missed anything else!
featuring: gojo, megumi, tsumiki, geto, shoko, mei mei.
genre: fluff, non-jujutsu!au.
warning(s): age-gap (8 years), moderate descriptions of verbally toxic relationship (ex), expletives.
word count: 4k
author’s note: strap in, losers! this is going to be a long-ass ride. (con. crit. from readers/writers are always welcome!) also this shit has been sitting in my gdocs long enough that when i reread it i literally hate it lmfaooo but there's no way in hell i'm doing another round of editing so here u go so sorry xx thank u for beta-ing this mei i love u for putting up w my shit
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[AO3 Link] CHAPTERS # 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06
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Fushiguro Toji was not the man you thought you’d spend the rest of your life with. Not because you didn’t find him attractive—hard to find anyone who doesn’t—or because he was eight years older, but because of the way he presented himself, which is to say: you judged a book by its cover.
And also because you thought you’d marry your ex.
That was until Takahashi, your boyfriend of two years, said you were nothing but a promiscuous, disrespectful city-girl; a slut, if you will. Which was ironic since you’d caught him with his co-worker in your bed just fifteen minutes prior. You didn’t know which stung more. 
Probably his cheek after you backhanded him nearly to tears.
Before Takahashi, you liked to believe you handled break-ups well. But then again, you never considered marrying any of your exes. 
You hadn’t planned on staying long when you moved back home from Tokyo; a few months at most, maybe half a year, just to be with your parents after spending nearly a decade away from them. But when you bumped intoTakahashi again seconds after arriving at twenty-three, your ‘plan’ combusted. 
He’d always been handsome, even as a pre-teen, and your younger self had only ever dreamed of being the object of his affections. Turns out, you always had been. How sweet, right? Childhood friends reunited into lovers ten years later; a tried and true formula for everlasting love. 
Too bad Takahashi took ‘object’ a little too seriously.
If only you’d seen the signs earlier, the bright splotches of red on his flag. The jealousy, the off-handed remarks, the refusal to even contemplate your desire to move back to Tokyo while expecting you to upend everything and remain in your rural hometown with him.
Love is blind; you hate that it’s true.  
Regardless, at twenty-six, you moved back to Tokyo a single woman. 
You’d tried to efface Takahashi’s impact on your life, but even in his absence he’d marred something else for you: other men. It sounds inane—because it is—but how could you trust another man again? Sure, they always appeared benign—pleasant, even—but who knew how much of a red flag they really were beneath the ‘earnest’ smiles and swoopy hair? 
Any man who raised even the slightest red flag sent alarms wailing inside you. Which was horrible because everyone has at least a little pink in their flags.
And Fushiguro Toji? He embodied the colour red. Scarlet, crimson, merlot, rouge, cerise, carmine; every shade of it belonged to him, and damn, he wore it well.
The first splash of ruby on his white canvas was evident only seconds upon meeting him as he hauled your ass out of a tree. Yes, a tree, because the first time you met Toji—you at twenty-six and him at thirty-four—was when you’d clambered up a tree at 2:30 a.m.
So, here’s a retelling of how you met the love of your life for the first time, How-I-Met-Your-Mother-style.
It was two o’clock on a Saturday morning when you realised you’d left your wallet at Ieiri’s. That wouldn’t have been an issue under normal circumstances—you could swing by and pick it up on your way to work the next day—but the thing is, you were halfway home in a cab. 
See the problem now?
The reunion at her place consisted of your high school friends, a commemoration of your moving closer to everyone in Shibuya after not seeing each other for nearly three years. Light banter, catching-up, laughing at shitty movies over too-salty popcorn (or too-sweet if you were Gojo); that’s how it was supposed to go. Alcohol wasn’t in the itinerary, but well, Nanami couldn’t make it, so there went your voice of reason. And when Mei Mei arrived with three bottles of imported whiskey you’d never have the cash to even see again…
If anything, Gojo was to blame for enticing you.
“Just a sip. C’mon, you’re really gonna regret not having a taste,” he said, the devil on your left shoulder. The apples of his cheeks were ruddy and his usually rapid-fire speech sluggish. “When’re you ever goin’ ta have a chance again?”
“You’re rich. Just buy me a bottle next time you see me.”
He rolled his eyes. “Have ya seen the price tag on this thing? I don’t like you that much.”
The contentions he presented gradually became increasingly—and vexingly—compelling. But when you glanced to your right shoulder for guidance from an angel, two more devils awaited.
Ieiri and Geto consummated the formidable SaSuSho—SuShoSa, ShoSuSa or Triple S, depending on who you asked—trio and were quick to come to their fellow devil’s aid, which was bad. Especially since Geto is infamously persuasive. In high school, he’d been voted ‘most likely to start a cult’. 
Team Triple S prevailed once more unfortunately, because ten minutes after your exchange with Gojo, you downed your first glass. 
So, it was extra humiliating to be kicked out a kilometre from your place with empty pockets but a stomach full of exorbitantly priced booze after telling the cab driver you’d forgotten your wallet.
And because the universe hated you, obviously it was cold. The night chill needled the skin of your legs, and you lamented your decision to forgo pants for a skirt. The choice had been last minute, a deliberate departure from the ‘modest’ apparel Takahashi would’ve approved of. You remember how horrified he’d looked when you wanted to leave the house in a tennis skirt one time. Though your outfit was adorable, you’d relented without objection and changed into something more ‘appropriate’ because you found his possessiveness flattering at the time. That didn’t last long. 
You’d even splurged on a pair of new shoes to pair with your current skirt. Who knew that fourteen days later they’d hang from your index and middle fingers as you staggered through the streets?
It was then, as you were cussing yourself out, that you heard the first meow. 
Drunk, humiliated, and freezing, you thought you’d hallucinated it. But when a second one, shriller and closer, speared the otherwise silent night, you were sure it was no figment of your imagination.
You didn’t stop to think how deranged you probably looked when you started meowing back, ears perked for a reply. 
No way you’d abandon a helpless cat. They were considered part of the people back home; most households, yours included, had bowls of kibble and fresh water outside even if they didn’t own any pets. 
Maybe it’d slipped into a drain or tangled itself in some brambles, but a few steps and another yowl later banished those assumptions. The cat, you realised, was above ground.
Above you.
You had to squint to spot the splotch of mottled fur between the leaves. But unmistakably, about thirteen metres up an oak fringing one of the mini recreational areas was a calico, its tail swishing like paddy plants in a draft. The cat meowed again, the branch it was clinging to bowing beneath its weight.
What else could you do but climb?
Sure, you’d climbed a few trees before. Growing up, the neighbourhood kids used to constantly challenge each other to see who could pluck the most coconuts and mangoes in five minutes. You’d only tried to once. The rashes from the fire ant bites you’d endured had scarred you too deeply to try again.
Going up was never the issue though, it was coming back down. When you’d gotten stuck in a particularly tall tree, you bawled for fifteen minutes straight. You only scrounged the courage to get down after your parents bribed you with a pack of gummy bears, the pricier ones which were denser than the sugar-filmed pastilles you usually got.
But right then, your parents weren’t around to coax you with saccharine coos and promises. No, it was just you, the cat in your lap, and the flimsy branch creaking beneath your weight.
You weren’t—and still aren’t—sure how you managed to get up there in the first place, drunk no less. But even booze-addled you were sane enough to discern that, Holy shit, one wrong move and I’ll fucking die.
Which is when you started screaming.
Who knows how long you were up there, screaming your throat raw? Long enough that you started making empty promises to whichever god would spare you an angel first, that’s for sure. It was when you brazenly swore off alcohol forever that the angel you’d been searching for at Ieiri’s answered your prayers.
Or, well, an elderly woman in a hot pink parka did.
She must’ve thought you were a ghost, because she looked like she was about to barter what few breaths she had left to book it out of there until you shouted, “I’m stuck!”
And you thought getting booted by the cab driver was humiliating. If you’d just waited half-an-hour later you would’ve realised being ogled at by an old woman and three college kids who’d appeared out of nowhere—perhaps god’s way of spiting you for breaking your promise of sobriety barely a month after making it—as you hobbled onto a fire truck’s raised metal box was even more so.
The truck had the nerve to keep flashing those gaudy red lights the entire time too, announcing to the whole neighbourhood: Come one, come all! Feast your eyes upon the spectacle of this drunk chick with leaves in her hair and dirt scuffing her skirt as she limps out this tree! Look at her stumble! What an unseemly sight! 
You considered jumping off. If this was what the universe demanded in exchange for an angel, maybe devils weren’t so bad.
And so, Toji arrived.
His face was haloed by moonlight when you first saw him, slowly rising in the fire truck’s metal compartment. But the luminescence paired with the leafery high above cast hard shadows across the planes of his face, eclipsing his angular cheekbones, the sturdy set of his jaw, the hood of his eyes; a cloak of twilight.
He looked eerily impassive, bored, almost. Was saving drunk girls from trees a common occurrence?
“Hold still,” he said, voice deep with the slightest rasp, asphalt almost. “I’m coming.”
You managed a nod and a dry swallow, hugging the cat in your lap tighter. 
“I’ll need you to drop the cat first.”
Toji extended his arms and gestured for the calico. You would’ve been offended by how eagerly it abandoned your embrace in favour of his if the force of its leap hadn’t shaken the branch below your goose-pimpled thighs.
You gripped the trunk behind you, dirt and wood flecks gumming the underside of your nail. Expensive whiskey threatened to purge itself from your stomach. You strained to breathe, to think, to see, to feel, to not fall, to—Oh God. Oh shit. Holy shit, you were going to die, you were going to slip and fall and spill your brains onto the ground and— 
“Hey, hey, relax. I’ve got you.”
Swish. That was the sound of red flag number one flapping in the breeze.
Toji’s voice was lower, steadier. He meant to sound reassuring. You know now that he was using his Fireman Toji voice, the one that bleeds through when Tsumiki argues with her friends or Megumi topples off his bike.
But in the moment? He sounded like your scumbag ex.
“Will you relax?” Takashi had hissed, as if he hadn’t ripped two years from you, shackled you to his wiles, guilted you into thinking you were the problem, that you were somehow being ‘unfaithful’ by wearing heavy perfume or face-timing Geto or, god forbid, Gojo—oh the fucking horror—any later than six in the evening, when Takahashi was the one who’d stuck his dick in another woman. As if you were supposed to accept his infidelity as simply another infinitesimal flaw and toss it into the mountain of other infinitesimal flaws. As if him cheating was something you were meant to handle calmly, like you were a bitch, a psycho, for not doing so.
So instead of ‘okay’ you said, “I’m about to fall off a fuckin’ tree and crack my skull open. Don’t tell me to relax.”
And maybe if it was some other poor firefighter, they would’ve kept silent, maybe gaped, then guided you down, before driving off into the freezing night and never seeing you again. You’d forget their face, they’d forget yours and the status quo would remain unchallenged.
But it was your Toji that showed up that day, and he loves a challenge.
So he laughed. Which was the last thing you expected, but you soon learned he gave zero shits for convention.
Toji cocked his head as the sound left him, his face sloping out from the foliage’s veil, becoming fully-illuminated by the night. You remember thinking, as everyone usually does, that he was horrifyingly attractive. The kind of attractive mothers shielded their daughters from when he ambled past, that had fathers suddenly deciding to clean their guns if said daughters brought him home. The kind of attractive that the shirtless men on the covers of chick-lit books strived to be. 
Basically, hot. Toji was hot. 
But there was something else skulking beneath the surface-level sex appeal he exuded. Something illusory, there and there not, something you only glanced once in a lifetime yet would never forget.
Beauty. That’s it. You remember thinking he was beautiful. Not a beauty that was sprightly or awing or orthodox, but a beauty that was elusive. Because Toji isn’t beautiful in the way that inspires poets or painters or writers. No, he isn’t a beauty for the romantics. He isn’t beautiful in the way spring is with his honeysuckle perfumes and vibrant narcissus hues. He is beautiful in a way that refuses to be pinpointed, like a fleeting glimmer of moonbeams upon rippling water, the glint of a wolf’s eyes amidst the snow the moment before it strikes, the ephemeral bliss of winter air after centuries in the hearth before it chills your lungs and devours you alive. 
He, to you, was hauntingly beautiful, is hauntingly beautiful. 
But when he laughed, it fractured the confines of your daze. Because despite how imposingly attractive or strangely wistful his beauty was, Fushiguro Toji laughed like a dork.
 It began high, raising as the scar across his lip did, then petered into an exhale through the nose, a rumble in the chest. He smiled lopsidedly, the left side of his mouth lagging behind the right as it curled. It made his right eye squintier, right canine greater bared than the left, accentuating their different lengths because the right was longer, sharper. His smile was deceitful to his appearance in the way that it made him surprisingly… boyish. 
You wondered if he was single and then, whether it was appropriate to lust after a firefighter in the middle of perilous doom.
“Alright, alright, point taken. But you better c’mere before that branch really does snap, sweetheart.”
Your charmed stupor evaporated, leaving your chest arid and primed to raise red flag number two: sweetheart. 
Affectionate nicknames assigned by strangers were a privilege reserved only for old people and hawkers trying to sell you gratuitous knick-knacks (though technically Toji fell within the former). But if it came from a man you barely knew? Run. Run for the hills and never return, because there was a high likelihood he’d either leave you sobbing into your pillow or filing a restraining order in a month’s time. 
“I was trying to be nice,” he said when you commented on it a year later, voice muffled by your chest. “You were panicking. I thought it’d calm you down.”
You shifted to a more comfortable position on his lap. “You sounded sleazy.”
“Thought you like it when I call you sweetheart.”
“Only because we’re dating now. You were a stranger back then. All I thought was ‘I wonder how many poor girls he’s subjected this to’. And besides”—you tugged him away by the roots of his hair, eliciting a grunt, to meet your eyes—“you only call me sweetheart when you’re horny.”
Toji grinned that stupid grin of his that had you pooling at his feet. “If it makes you feel any better, you’re the only person I’ve ever called sweetheart in my life.”
“Sure, and I’m the prime minister.”
“I’m serious,” he said, leaning in, his breath hot and minty (“I thought we’re going to bed? You’ve already brushed your teeth, Toji.”) (“I know, I know, but just sit in my lap for a bit. I miss you. Haven’t seen you all day.”) to press the softest kiss to your jaw, “sweetheart.”
It was difficult retaining your petulance. “Is that so?”
“Yeah.” The char in his voice coursed a shiver past your spine, but the appling of his cheeks betrayed his facade. “The other girls prefered doll or baby.”
“You fucking—”
Anyway, you’re getting off track. Where were you? Right, the nickname.
Unfortunately, there were no hills nearby or any running you could do without bleeding out on the sidewalk, so you settled for gingerly lowering yourself into the metal compartment instead. Toji’s arm brushed your waist when you stumbled upon your landing, the metal underfoot sobering with its frigidity.
What hit you first was the sheer warmth suffusing from him. You couldn’t resist leaning into his frame. Not to mention, the swaths of his uniform made it feel like you were nuzzling one of those huge teddy bears you’ve always wanted but could never afford, though the fabric was coarser. 
This close, you could pick up on the subtle nodes of his scent: an odd amalgam of sweat, cedar, laundry detergent and… something sweet. Cologne? Maybe, but it smelled too familiar to be just that.
You inhaled again, faintly aware of the metal box’s descent. God, you knew this smell. It reminded you of something in your youth. Why did a man who looked like Toji smell like your childhood? Why did he smell so sweet? That wasn’t fair. Why was he hot and smelled great? The red flags were lowering by the second.
“You can get off now, y’know?”
Oh? Oh. Oh.
Seemed like in your desperation to pin the exact fucking flower and exact fucking brand of Toji’s musk you’d completely forgotten why he was beside you in the first place. Not even beside you anymore either; you were practically slumped against him at that point, trembling from head-to-toe, teeth chipping away from how direly they chattered. 
“Right, I knew that,” you said. His arm loosened around your waist (When did that get there?) as you pushed yourself off him, brushing debris from your skirt. “I just—”
“Fell asleep?” 
No, actually I was trying to decipher what cologne you use. “Yeah, I… I’m drunk.” It was the best excuse you could conjure. “Shit, should I have told you that? Are you going to arrest me?”
“Why would I do that? It’s not a crime to drink.” He arched a brow. “Assuming you’re over twenty.”
“Do I look younger than twenty to you?” He scanned your figure, shrugged. You hated how you basked in his attention like some sun-bathing lizard. “But I don’t know? Reckless endangerment? I think I almost gave that old woman a heart attack.”
“Why’re you setting yourself up?” A smile ghosted his lips. “Do you want me to arrest you?”
Was he… teasing you? Did most firefighters in the city do that? Why were you into it? It was the uniform, huh? No, enough. Stop. Remember the red flags: the relax, the nickname, the chilling beauty.
“I’m a firefighter, not a cop, sweetheart,” he continued. You grimaced. “But try not to get yourself stuck twenty feet up in the air next time you’re drunk, alright? Unless you plan on seeing me again.”
Boom. There it was. Red flag number three. A lovely little bow to cap off the onslaught of reasons why Fushiguro Toji was a man not to be trusted. The pick-up line.
Ah, you realised, it’s just him who breaches the code of conduct. Because if it were common practice for firefighters to tell cheesy pick-up lines to the people they rescued, nobody would start a fire in Shibuya again. Or would they constantly? 
Did you like Toji or not?
On one hand, your heart was urging you to pursue— You know what? No point in waxing poetic. Your heart wasn’t saying shit; you were horny. Plain and simple. The horny part of you was demanding that you pursue Toji, but we all know being horny leaves no room for rational thought. Besides, the last time you’d heeded to the word of that side of you, it ended in heartbreak. You couldn’t afford another.
So you listened to your brain, and it was warning you to stay away with lights as blaringly red as the firetruck’s. You were a proud (fuck you, Takahashi) and true city girl now; no more chasing whimsies. It was time to march down whichever road logic paved, no matter how much you wanted Toji to leave you trembling. 
You patted his chest and side-stepped him. “I’ll pass. Thanks.”
And that was the last time you saw him, or so you thought.
“You thought I was corny?” 
Toji asks this now, sitting beside you on the park bench, a sports towel slung across his shoulders and sweat dripping past his temples. 
“Hello? ‘Unless you plan on seeing me again.’?” You deepen your voice to a grating baritone, hook your lips into a sordid grin, squint and recline your head to give the impression that you’re looking down on Toji when he’s taller than you. 
“Why’re you making that face?” A voice pipes up from your left, interrupting you before you can elaborate on the technical aspects of Toji’s corniness. 
You’ve always thought Megumi stood too rigidly for a kid, and that hasn’t changed even after the almost three years you’ve known him. The eight-year-old now stands with his palms flat against his sides and his shoulders straight beside you, dirt rasped across his knees after he fell face-first going down the slide.
“I was trying to look like your dad.”
Megumi purses his lips and his chin dimples in thought. “You did a good job.”
Toji laughs humourlessly. “You damn kid.”
It’s not long until Megumi’s whines and yells of “Stay away! You stink!” condense the Tuesday morning air as Toji chases him, weaving through swings and seesaws and people, who are either amused or irritated by the commotion. When Toji catches up and tosses Megumi over his shoulder, his son pounds his back with his little fists and nearly kicks his father’s face in protest.
“What did Megumi say this time?” 
Tsumiki, despite only being nine, has completely nailed the tone of a woman jaded by life, though when she sits beside you, her feet don’t touch the ground. 
The only response you can muster is a roll of your eyes and a chuff. But Tsumiki understands, she always does, and you love her dearly for it. Silently, she rests her head against your shoulder and watches her dad and brother squabble. She hums; a habit she adopted from her father.
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