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carewyncromwell · 1 year

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“Are we too far apart? Two worlds among the stars? You’re gonna take a piece of my heart if you leave... So it’s two separate ways, Or am I too late to say, I wanna fight for what we got? ‘Cause I believe in family...in family...”

~“Family” by TobyMac

x~x~x~x

I gotta say, I didn’t think I’d become so attached to Carewyn’s youngest cousin Tristan when I decided to write for him in that one drabble I did, but...yeah, here he ended up as a young adult with Carewyn in my sketchbook! Go figure! XD

But yeah, this is Tristan Cromwell, age 18, and dressed to the Goth Victorian nines. Yes, that is his aesthetic -- he would’ve 150% been that Tim Burton-obsessed weirdo kid, if he’d been raised in the Muggle World. I see this being him reaching out to his now-nearly-30-year-old cousin Carewyn at the Ministry of Magic, specifically talking at that one fountain in the center Atrium, which has gone through some changes since its pre-Wizarding-War days and especially since the Wizarding War itself. As you can see, Tristan’s grown up a lot since he appears in that drabble -- a bit personality-wise, yes, but definitely physically. Tristan ends up being the tallest and lankiest of all the Cromwells at 5′11″, making him both an inch taller than his father and the same height as his deceased grandfather, Charles. It also means he towers over Carewyn, the smallest Cromwell at 5′3″.

Despite his and Carewyn’s differences, though, Tristan as a young adult really becomes all the more motivated to fix the rift in his broken family. (I’m not joking, while working on this, I must have played Scott Shattuck’s cover of Waiting on a Miracle a good twenty times, imagining it as a theme for adult!Tristan.) As Blaise’s only son and heir, he’s presumed to be the one who’ll have to take on the mantle of leadership for the Clan, even while the youngest of the Cromwell cousins, so Tristan feels an obligation to do what his father has been unable to and bring Carewyn, Jacob, and Lane back into the fold. One lesson Tristan does internalize that Blaise never does, however, is that love is about sacrifice, not just possessive control...a lesson bolstered by his interactions with his favorite "bastard cousin,” Carewyn. I could even see Tristan seeking out Carewyn’s help with getting a position at the Ministry as an adult, since his father’s influence is far less than Charles’s was back in the day and Tristan’s lack of real-world experience, connections, and social skills hampers him in his job search.

“I’m a Cromwell! I’m not supposed to have to struggle to get the respect owed me.”

Fortunately for however proud and entitled Tristan is thanks to Blaise’s toxic influence, he also is painfully aware of his duty to his family and is determined to be the best Head he can be...even if it required him taking a desk job he’d be miserable at.

“Wouldn’t I, what, prefer to do something else? Obviously. I’ve been locked up inside nearly my whole life -- you don’t think I don’t wish every day I could just pack my bags and go running off into the sunset on some whirlwind adventure, the way your brother does? Hell, reckon even your precious Quidditch player’s able to do that sometimes, with how much travel he must get up to...

“...But...I can’t. Not when it’d break Father’s heart. Not when the whole Clan needs leadership, and just about all of them presume it has to be me. It’s not like it could be anyone else, really. Elmer’s not the leadership sort, and Arsen and Kain...they can’t even score a promotion with the Hitwizards, let alone take charge of the Clan. And Heather, Dahlia, and Iris, feh -- the Manor would probably get burned to the ground in a week if they called the shots.

“I was raised to do this, by my father. I have to do this, the way he has -- but I can’t do it his way. Not just because the Cromwell name’s been tarnished and Father can’t help me get ahead the way Grandfather did for him, but because...well...”

“...You’re not your father.”

“...Yes. And...if anything is going to get better, with our family...if I’m ever going to make things right...I can’t be like him, either. No matter how much I love him and no matter how much I want to make him proud...if I’m going to make that dream come true, I have to do things my way.

“So just...put in a good word for me, will you? Maybe Father’s word doesn’t have weight here at the Ministry, but yours does. You’re the Ministry’s Star Prosecutor, after all. Even if I do have to be stuck indoors all day, well, at least it’ll be a different ‘indoors.’ And I know Father will be pleased, if I ended up in your Department. Sure he’ll see it as the perfect excuse to try to lure you back home...”

Tristan’s lips were curled up in an amused, mischievous smirk, when he said this: one that made him more closely resemble that thirteen-year-old boy Carewyn had seen back at the Cromwell Manor during the War.

As one can expect, Carewyn didn’t flaunt her influence around to get Tristan a job the way he wanted...but, feeling some compassion for her cousin, she did line up several promising Ministry internship opportunities for him -- one with the Department of International Magical Cooperation, one in the Department of Magical Games and Sports’s office closer to Quidditch League Headquarters, one at St. Mungo’s sponsored by the Accidental Magical Reversal Squad, and even three for the Department of the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. None of those opportunities, however, were in Wizarding Law.

Sorry, Tristan -- but I think you’ve had more than enough of being stuck indoors.

After much deliberation, Tristan selected one of the internships for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, specifically the one that required him to work with the Dragon Research and Restraint Bureau, exploring more humane methods of transport for the creatures across Muggle-occupied areas. Tristan’s extensive knowledge of magical creature anatomy ended up being very helpful in this task -- though the best part of the experience, by far, ended up being when he was able to finally see a real-life Welsh Green for the first time. After only ever knowing such creatures as models and drawings in books, Tristan almost couldn’t breathe when he was able to actually reach out and touch one, with his own hands.

Blaise would probably be more than a little disconcerted about his son ending up so close to such a dangerous creature -- but in that moment, Tristan couldn’t keep the huge grin off his face as he ran a hand gently along the dragon’s comb, rubbing his wet eyes on his sleeve. He’d never been so happy in all his life.

#hphm #hogwarts mystery #my art #tristan cromwell #carewyn cromwell #my writing #blaise cromwell #jacob cromwell #orion amari #yes for the record carewyn's become legal partners with orion at this point #blaise hates orion's guts LMAO #he thinks carewyn deserves better than 'some orphaned broom jockey'#tristan acts condescending too because he's seen the whole situation through his father's filtered perspective #but he at least is a bit more conscious of the fact that orion's a famous quidditch star #arsen and kain both love quidditch like their mum did XDDD #iris also may or may not have swooned over some of the sexier quidditch stars out there a few times #when she didn't think the adults could hear >)#dahlia's type is more 'scholar' and heather's type is more 'action hero'#but yeah anyway tangent aside tristan's actually a bit more okay with carewyn dating orion because hey he's famous #that's cool #even if yeah winnie isn't even getting married and having a 'real' family that weirdo *impish grin*#hey tristan is blaise's son what are you gonna do #at least he's more just immature naive and proud rather than an emotionally toxic gaslighter #tristan has actually thought a few times that carewyn would be a good leader of the Clan #but he knows she wouldn't be able to bring them together -- there's just too much baggage there #if he's going to be head of the Clan though tristan would want carewyn's support #he wants both her and his father's advice on this journey he's taking and he's hoping to walk a path between them #time will tell how well that will go #this pic is set in 2002 for the record -- tristan is 18 and carewyn is 29

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wyattjohnston · 1 year

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#just found out that blanks is a whole ass adult #why did no one tell me #demi says something #might be because I have u mich content heavily heavily filtered lmao

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childeapologist · 1 year

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"Direct, straightforward communication is so childish. Why don't you use this weird social filter on all of your words to make me more comfortable"

Neurotypical people are so weird dawg and I refuse to participate. I feed off of making the NTs uncomfortable. It gives me life. Bc they sure as hell don't mind devaluing my entire existence

#im so tired #everyone's a mental disability advocate nowadays until you show symptoms lmao #then youre a childish adult that needs to grow up and use more social filters #hate them all #die #i wish horrible things on all of you

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dear-ao3 · 10 days

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Question for the mods....

HOW IN THE FUCK DID YOU MEET???

Like what???

How??

I am so god damn curious about you two. I wanna study yall under a microscope lol

Also ngl kinda envious of how close of friends you two seem to be. (Being an introverted shy af mofo sucks lmao)

I would actually probably read a whole ass book or watch a sitcom or something of the seemingly ever present weird-ass shit that seems to happen on a day-by-day basis.

/gen /lh /nf /pos

2018 newsies fandom. we weren't overly close but we bonded over race and albert a little and then katya dropped off the face of the earth for about a year.

during 2020 lockdown we both independently got into the witcher fandom and somehow ran into eachother again and had the fingers pointing OH MY GOD Y O U !!! moment in our dms. we bonded over hating jaskier. during this time we realized we were both dancers and katya was looking at dance colleges, i was already in college for dance and since it was lockdown and we couldn't go anywhere i told katya my experience auditioning at places to give him a good idea of places. and then i broke every internet safety rule known to man and said hey what if you had applied to my college but didnt know it?? and then one thing led to another and i dished out all the tea on my school. (only After that did we face reveal and give eachother our names lol) and then katya applied. mostly as a joke. until it wasnt a joke because that school gave katya a shit load of money and actually had stuff katya wanted to do. katya ended up coming to one of my zoom ballet classes and it took everything we had to not loose our shit on camera.

during this time we mostly kept eachother sane in lockdown writing witcher fanfic, and sending eachother awful thirst traps on instagram to pitbull music. one of our awful bits was using the dilf filter to make bad frat boy edits.

come august of 2021 we both moved into college. the same college. in the same building. it was wild. i pinched myself several times in shock. we went on a walk around campus with some worms on strings and were like what the hell how did we get here.

we continued to hang out and did weird insane things together. we took a class on the french revolution together where i had to put up with katya and fennec awkwardly flirting (read: making finger guns at eachother).

and then, since i was 2 years older, i was graduating and was going to stay in the area for a job and was like hey. what if we got an apartment together? and then we did. several adults agreed to this. idk why they let us. but now we live together in a real life apartment and we haven't even killed eachother yet. neither of our parents know that we met online. each of them have a different fake story as to how we know eachother and we really just hope they are never in the same room long enough to ask eachother about it. but its insane. 12/10 would recommend.

katya wanted me to include old tumblr screenshots of us talking, heres what i found from circa 2020:

we've always been like this lol

and heres some ancient greatest hits from instagram, i dont have context and trust me you dont want it:

every now and then the two of us look at eachother and go. how the fuck did we end up here??? (we have no idea)

#not a tag #from saph #storytime ig lol #sorry for the god awful quality #essentially we are basically dan and phil which is insane

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abiiors · 1 month

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persephone - matty x reader ˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧💌˚.⋆🌿

a/n: this is kinda loosely based on the myth of persephone and also this is just one interpretation of it, obv several exists in the media :) and like matty's barely hades lmao, this is mostly just the connection of persephone, demeter and spring ♡ cw: this contains themes of parental neglect, dysfunctional families, emotional abuse/neglect and alcoholism, and they're very much PRESENT and DETAILED. this isn't angst but it's def bittersweet (emphasis on the bitter whoops) wc: 5.1k

the first word she learns is “mama”.

she has a faint memory of this—a woman with shining brown hair, smiling and cheering at her. everything is blurred around the edges and filtered in through a haze. everything has a foggy white quality to it but the woman’s eyes are crystal clear and looking at her, focused solely on her. she has a memory of others laughing and clapping along, encouraging her to say the word again and again.

mama.

the brown haired woman looks tired—she’s young and, looking back, barely even an adult. but the woman smiles at her and coos along. “mama,” the woman says in an exaggerated baby voice and points to herself.

“mama,” she babbles again at the woman she now recognises as her mother. the woman gives her a bland smile, playing with her almost absently. the woman even lets her grab onto her fingers and bite on them—not that it counts much as biting, she barely has teeth at this point.

the next memory she has is of an older man with a freckled happy face and salt-n-pepper hair. he throws her up in the air and catches her until she’s giggling and breathless and light as air. he's often at their dining table, peeling pomegranates.

mama says she can't eat them yet—they're of course a choking hazard for a baby her age. but the old man peals it for mama, because mama looks happy when she sits next to him and pops the seeds into her mouth, sighing at the sweetness.

“these are delicious, daddy,” mama says to him and he smiles at mama with all the tenderness in the world.

when mama needs a break from her, he takes her to the nearby pond, and lets her touch leaves and rocks. he points at the tiny things in the water and says a word she barely recognises.

fishies.

he clicks his tongue and waits for her to imitate the word, but she only claps her hands and says “mama” again.

the man laughs. “let’s get you home to mama then.”

the younger woman gets mad at him when they get home though. mama grabs all the treasure—their entire day’s hard work—and puts it away somewhere where she can never reach it again.

the man grumbles about it too but she’s far too young yet to understand words and tone, much less full blown fights. all she knows is a distinct sharp feeling of fear when mama snatches her away from the old man’s hands and puts her away in a room alone.

there are white bars around her that she can’t climb, even though she cries and cries and screams for mama. even when a pungent smell fills the room and she feels uncomfortable wetness in her onesie.

but mama doesn’t come. and the old man’s voice can’t reach her anymore. there’s only the sound of her cries and an eerie music box lullaby that plays on repeat as if it would ever be enough to pacify her.

mama doesn’t come for hours.

years later, she’d know why mama can’t be bothered.

the last time she calls her mother “mama” is when she’s seven years old.

it’s rained all night and the backyard is wet and muddy. mama grimaces the moment she looks out the window but for a seven year old girl, it’s the most fun thing to ever exist. mama makes a sound of disgust when she runs outside, whooping with joy and slipping and sliding in the mud.

all she wishes for is a companion now—a sibling or a dog or a cat, she’s not picky. a friend works too, but she’s not entirely sure where someone gets those.

“if you get mud on my carpets, i swear!” mama shakes her fist from the back door but she can’t care less.

she’s drenched in mud and having way more fun than she’s had in days. so much so that she doesn’t even realise when mama shakes her head and goes back inside.

the winter chill is almost gone, there’s even a few little saplings sprouting from the ground and she can’t wait for the whole backyard to be filled with weird little weeds and wallflowers. she can’t wait until it’s warm enough to sit outside in the afternoons and make her little witchy potions from mud and weeds and flowers and see if any butterflies would be curious enough to land near her. (or maybe even on her like they do in the movies she’s seen!)

she forgets the movies for a moment, though. today is the best day a girl could have.

her grampy—her grandpa—is supposed to visit too, and she knows he’s going to bring treats; sweet honey from the hive on their farm or tiny red strawberries that dribble juice down her chin. she knows he’ll sit in their kitchen and peel her a pomegranate (she can eat those now!) and tell her about the new calf on the farm. (she’s asked this story twice now but it only gets better each time) it’s all so exciting that she even forgets about her aversion to the kitchen for a bit, forgets how a pit opens in her stomach every time she has to be in the kitchen with mama.

she can’t wait for the after, but right now she runs through her backyard again, whooping and cheering and smiling.

she’s slipping and slipping, just like before. the fence comes closer, her little mind tries to calculate the distance, her feet try to slow down but the mud’s grown too slippery and she just can’t stop, can’t put her arms up in time.

her jaw collides with the fence with a sickening crunch. pain flares in her mouth along with the sharp coppery taste of blood. it almost makes her gag and she tries to spit it out. something white falls on the ground, covered in blood—her first tooth, the one that’s been loosening for days.

she stays curled on the ground, covered in mud, sobbing and spitting out more blood until her saliva runs clear, then she somehow shuffles inside, hoping mama would have a magic fix.

mama’s eyes widen the moment she walks in, dried mud crusted around her feet, blood on her chin.

“what the fuck?!” mama yells, the glass in her hand jostles dangerously and the dark liquid inside almost splashes out. mama’s words also have an unnerving, slurred quality to them but she’s too much in pain to care.

“what’s wrong with you?!” mama screeches again and gets up. through tears, she manages to splutter out what happened. she shows mama the tooth, (girls in school have told her about the tooth fairy) but mama only smacks her hand away.

“i told you not to get mud on my carpets. who’s going to clean them huh? not you, you’re useless. you’re all useless.”

more tears fall on her cheeks and she looks at mama, horrified. but mama slams the glass hard enough on the table that a crack goes through it. she’s worried mama’s going to yell at her more, but mama only yanks the mop from the corner and waits for her to move out the way.

she takes the hint, grateful it didn’t get worse. she tries not to get the mud onto anything else but a little gets on the bathroom tiles anyway.

under the hot water, she finally lets her sobs free and scrubs her little body until the skin is all red and raw and stings from the temperature of the water. until each stream of the showerhead feels like a bb bullet.

then she gets on her hands and knees and scrubs the bathroom floor clean, occasionally flicking her tongue over the now-empty spot where the tooth used to be. it tastes vaguely salty, and it still aches but not as much, definitely nothing in comparison to her jaw which is turning a nasty shade of purple. her tooth’s still safe on the counter, though—free of blood and mud now. gleaming white.

at least that’s the saving grace of the day. at least she’ll get a visit from the tooth fairy.

grampy cancels his visit—his knees hurt, mama says—but she tries not to be miffed about it. she’ll make sure to get grampy something nice with the money from the tooth fairy.

that night she gingerly places the tooth on the bed, carefully places the pillow on top so that the tooth is protected from all sides. nice and snug.

then she closes her eyes, dreaming of tiny fluttering wings and shiny pennies. but the tooth fairy never visits at all.

her mum ages rapidly in a decade. by the time she’s seventeen, her mum’s already gone grey—unravelling at the seams, fraying with each passing day. not that anyone’s seen her mum in days. or months even. her mum’s not coherent enough to hang out with people most of the time.

she’s started spending less and less time at home. it helps to have a part time job on top of school—a place that delivers chinese food. a couple guys from her school work there too, not that she really knows a lot of them. except one.

matty.

he’s the one person she’s ever considered a friend.

the one person who’s been worthy of that title.

matty’s all casual smiles and laughs—he flirts shamelessly and kisses people on the cheeks when he gets drunk. he offers her fags and spliffs even though she always denies them. he nicks leftover chinese so they can eat it in his car, giggling and laughing, way prouder of their heist than they should be.

the food tastes better when she’s with him. everything’s better when she’s with him—even the shitty, off-brand beer he keeps buying. with him it tastes like expensive champagne. not that she knows what champagne tastes like to begin with, but she imagines the bubbles settling on her tongue feel like his laugh spilling from his lips. she imagines it tastes like the sparkle in his eyes.

matty looks at her differently too—she’s not stupid, she knows what interest looks like.

she’s been the object of fascination since she turned thirteen and developed boobs seemingly overnight. she shies away from attention most of the time—wears t-shirts twice her size, keeps her hair a bland brown. she barely even looks at boys or men who tell her she looks mature for her age. but when matty looks at her, it’s different.

when matty looks at her, she wants to be seen.

“you sure it’s okay for us to be out so late?” he asks one night when they’re sat in his car. the world around them has already gone quiet—it is a school night after all, she should be in bed too. but she sees the cigarette dangling loosely between his lips and for a second she forgets to respond. matty quirks and eyebrow and she realises she’s been staring at his mouth.

“my mum won’t mind.” her response is a bit curt, but she leaves it at that. there’s no need to mention that her mum’s probably drowning in wine by now, tripping and spilling the liquid onto floors and sofas and carpet.

“she must be chill,” matty hums to himself and takes a drag of his cigarette. she watches him hold it into his lungs, some of it escapes through his nose and curls around his face.

she keeps quiet, unwilling to get into that topic of conversation.

“i’m thinking of dropping out,” matty says quietly once the cigarette turns into a tiny stub. his voice is carefully neutral, monotonous. she whirls to look at him, jaw practically dropping to the (dirty) floor of his car. matty stares straight ahead, trying to look as nonchalant as possible, but the tension in his shoulders gives him away.

images flash in front of her—walking the school corridors alone, eating lunch alone, doing her homework alone. working at her job alone.

alone, alone, alone. no one but her mum around her again. that wretched fucking woman occupying every atom of her existence.

“did you h—”

“i heard you.” her voice has gone quiet now but there’s an edge to it that doesn’t go unnoticed by matty.

“and?”

“and what? if i said no, would that convince you to stay?”

she doesn’t mean to sound so sharp, so bitter. certainly not so selfish. but an ugly feeling bubbles up so deep inside her that all the excitement from before just dies—all the butterflies from just a moment ago, now dead and rotten, making her feel nauseous.

“no but—”

“i don’t want to tell you why it’s irresponsible, matty. frankly, i don’t know if i believe that myself but… it’s… it’s big.”

his face falls further and further the more she speaks. with each word she wants to press a hand to her mouth, wrap it around her throat so it would strangle everything else that’s about to come out. with every word she wants him to tell her to just shut the fuck up, that she doesn’t know what she’s talking about. but matty only looks at her and a different sort of quiet spreads around the car.

“you think this… this thing you’ve got going on. music. you think that’s enough?! you play for fucking retirement homes, matty! you play for old people who probably won’t even remember what they heard twenty minutes later. and you want to–what? you want to leave your education incomplete? you want to leave a-levels and school and your job? you just want to…leave?”

which is the real problem.

he gets the luxury of leaving.

she gets the misery of staying.

“thanks,” he says dryly, trying to roll his eyes. she catches the extra shine they now have, she catches the way his throat bobs. and suddenly the car is so stifling she can’t stand it anymore—can’t stand the taste of the nasty, cheap beer and the too-salty, too-greasy chinese they’re eating and she can’t stand the cliche, indie rock music playing at low volume.

she can’t stand him anymore.

“i need to go,” she says curtly, wiping her hands on her jeans and already halfway out the door when matty grabs her wrist.

“wait—”

“what.”

“n-nothing.” it’s the first time she’s heard him stutter, first time he’s ever said something without sounding completely sure of himself. “let me just drop you home.”

it’s also the first time he’s offered to do that.

“i have my bike.” besides there’s no need for you to see the state of the house right now, no need to come across that belligerent woman in case she’s still conscious.

“it’s late.”

she can’t really argue with that logic. it is almost 11 at night and she might not live in a very shady neighbourhood but it’s still not the safest at this time of the night. still, she doesn’t want matty driving her around and dropping her home. that feels too vulnerable. besides, she just wants to be away from him.

he’s leaving anyway, she might as well start practising that from now on.

“i’ll text you when you get home,” she mumbles and forces her wrist out of his hand.

she’s out of the car and slamming the door shut before he can even protest. she’s marching across the empty road and to her bike before the absence of his warmth registers, before her body realises that she can no longer feel his skin against hers.

before she really has a chance to let anything sink in.

matty honks and she hisses.

“what!”

“i’m following you home.” and then the little shit rolls up the window.

she has half a mind to stubbornly wait him out, see how long he stays if she just refused to move but that’s a stupid plan. like it or not, it’s happening. he’s following her home.

like it or not, she’s going to have to let him.

“i’ll only accept your apology on one condition.”

it’s two days later that they’re back in his car—her with a guilty conscience, matty with a smug smile.

“ugh, if you’re about to be a boy about it!”

“you haven’t even heard me out yet!”

the pit in her stomach shifts, the hollow cavity catching in her throat until she has to forcefully clear her throat and blink rapidly. it’s not that she’s completely forgiven him for wanting to leave, she hasn’t completely given up on that yet either. but she realises the way she went about it was perhaps…a bit shitty (okay it was definitely a lot shitty)

“spring dance”

“what?!”

the words jerk her out of her thoughts so violently that she almost forget about everything else for a second. the spring fucking dance.

matty healy, the boy who nicks chinese food and drinks cheap beer and wears ripped, skinny jeans wants to go to the spring dance.

“right don’t look at me like i’ve asked you out to a strip club—”

“that’d be more in character—”

“oi! just… let me speak!”

and so she shuts up, puts her hands under her thighs so she won’t impulsively chew on her nails while her crush is…trying to ask her out.

matty rolls his eyes at her and the fond smile on his face takes her breath away.

“i want to do it. i want one last cheesy school experience before i…” he trails off, maybe not wanting to finish that sentence for her sake. or maybe because it affects him more than she thinks. “and i want to do it with you.”

“me? ooh like i’m special or something.” she tries for it to be teasing and playful, but the words come out sounding so hopeful that it knocks the breath out of her.

“don’t pretend,” matty’s voice goes all quiet then. serious too, and suddenly he can’t meet her eyes. “don’t pretend like you don’t see it.”

“see what…”

there’s a lot in her life that she pretends not to see—half the things at home, sometimes her failing marks, sometimes the way other people look at her and whisper. but he is the one person she can’t pretend with. can’t pretend to not see the way he looks at her and acts around her. can’t pretend to not notice the way his touches linger and his smiles last longer.

even now, she can’t pretend like he’s not looking right at her lips, leaning in a smidge at a time. wishing she’d close the gap.

involuntarily, her eyes flutter shut. anticipating.

she wants to feel it so fucking bad—his hands on her waist, his fingers on her skin. she wants to feel his faint stubble against the palm of her hand, his lips on hers. most of all she just wants to feel him close, to feel his breath on her skin.

matty jerks away and a loud horn of a car breaks the spell.

“fucking dicks!” matty rolls the window down and yells at the retreating figure of teenagers in a car, one of them even flips him off and next to him she seethes.

fuck this, fuck everything. why can’t she just have nice things.

why must someone come and ruin it every time.

it takes them both a minute to breathe and settle down and meet each other’s eyes again. even then there’s a slight pink tinge on his face that makes him look adorable.��

“sorry about that…” matty mumbles and taps his fingers against the steering wheel. “so…spring dance?”

“i’d love that.”

she hopes the smile she gives him is genuine. she hopes he sees it plain and simple all over her face—all the words she hasn’t said and cannot say.

matty smiles wide. “then i forgive you.”

and it’s like a weight gets lifted off her chest.

“you look pretty,” her mum’s eyes roam over her body, eyeing her from head to toe, flicking over certain places again and again until she almost feels naked—like the blush pink fabric doesn’t even exist. like her mum sees right through her.

years of this has taught her that it’s not a compliment. if anything, it’s just another trap, so she focuses on her reflection in the mirror and smiles with as much warmth as she can muster. “thanks!”

her mum reeks of wine already, maybe even a little weed but it’s nearly not enough today which is surprising. she would have expected her mum to be at some bar by now.

“i’ll be a bit late. don’t worry i have my keys though.”

then she scoffs to herself. when has her mum ever worried?

“who’s taking you? to the dance.”

“wha–? oh. uh, just a few friends. only met them recently.” she winces, trying to get the last of the curls in place, trying not to be too cagey in front of her mum. she doesn’t want her mum to think she’s hiding something—mostly because it never ends well, and she can’t be arsed to deal with another screaming match right now. not when there’s a ball of anxiety and anticipation in her chest, wound so tightly that it’s slowly choking the air out of her lungs.

she just wants to be outside. she just wants matty to see her, to call her pretty and maybe even kiss her.

she just wants this one night with him.

just one.

her mum huffs and stumbles into the room. everything about this woman wants to make her shrink away—the days old stink of sweat and alcohol and cigarettes, the grime under her fingernails, her beady stare…

even when her mum’s fingers twirl around her curl, she fights not to shrink back, to slap her mum’s hand away.

“you look pretty,” her mum repeats. “prettier than i did when i was your age.”

her stomach churns at the cruel edge to those words but her mum isn’t done yet. “huh–not so easy to be pretty with a seven month pregnant belly. like a fucking whale…”

and there it is.

her fault that her mum was robbed off having normal teenage experiences.

“right, mum,” she smiles shakily, “need to get going.”

it’s almost a miracle that her mum doesn’t say anything else. mum just backs away and lets her gather her things. she quickens her pace, heart beating in her throat, hands trembling when she picks up her small purse.

it’s okay it’s okay it’s okay

“don’t spread your legs for that boy.”

she freezes in place, almost out the door.

“wha—”

“act dumb again and i’ll make sure you never see that boy again.”

“mum…” she swallows harshly, prays that the tears pricking her eyes don’t spill down her cheeks. then she nods and books it out of there. better to go before her mum changes her mind.

better to go before leaving becomes impossible.

matty makes her forget all of it.

the moment she sees him, the shakiness in her limbs disappears, her heart thuds in her chest for all the right reasons. he’s in a suit. a fucking suit that makes him look all grown up and handsome but then his unruly curls go all over the place and suddenly she’s laughing with the boy she’s had a crush on.

no matter what he wears and what he looks like, he will always be that boy.

the school auditorium is full of flowers—some fake, some real. all the girls around her look stunning, dressed in colourful pretty gowns. it’s all spring incarnate.

all night he dances effortlessly, twirls so many people around him like he’s friends with everyone. and maybe he is—he’s certainly always been so much more popular than she has. she should be the one leaving.

but she also can’t help but stare. she wonders if he is a daydream, something her lonely mind conjured up during hours filled with boredom or after long, exhausting fights with her mum. and suddenly, he is looking right at her. sweat makes his white shirt stick to his body in the most flattering way possible, makes his sweaty curls fall into his eyes until he can barely see straight.

stop ogling!

“staring is rude, you know?” he walks—no, saunters—over to her. suddenly, there’s not enough air left in the giant school auditorium.

“you’ve been staring too,” she counters. and she’s right. all night she’s caught his long lingering glances that make her feel like she’s coming alive.

like a flower blooming in spring.

“you kinda make it hard not to stare.” so does he, she thinks. but everything, from his half smile to his relaxed posture, tells her not to inflate his ego further. she stifles the faint blush creeping up her face and shakes her head bashfully.

“come on,” he says.

at first, she doesn’t realise what’s happening. then he whisks her away to the dance floor and her shriek of surprise turns into one of delight. she has never danced like this before but that night they dance till her heart pounds in her ears, till she can’t stand straight anymore. then they sway softly, in spite of the rock and roll playing in the background.

“you’re beautiful,” matty smiles at her, sincere and real.

if she discovers anything about herself that early spring night, it would be her love for dancing. it’s a feeling she’s never felt before—something that almost feels like…freedom. it’s foreign at first, all the blood coursing through her body at the speed of lightning. she tries to keep track of how many times she shrieks and laughs and jumps in excitement. all of it until matty picks her up and twirls her around.

round and round until she’s breathless and light as air and fucking free.

somewhere after that, she loses count. at the end of the night, her dress clings to her and matty can’t stop staring. can’t stop letting his eyes roam all over her until he’s grinning himself. his smile is boyish. perfect. and just as she’s getting self-conscious, he pulls her closer.

“you’re fucking perfect, you know that?”

next thing she knows, matty is holding her softly against the wall and kissing her bare neck. he softly caresses her waist through her dress and she shivers against the warm spring breeze. she can feel him shaking too, almost like he’s…nervous to do anything more. to actually kiss her and shatter the moment. she can’t have that, can’t let this moment slip through her fingers.

“kiss me,” she pleads and matty moves in an instant, his warm mouth capturing hers. like he was only waiting for her permission.

his lips are a little chapped. far from perfect and yet electricity zings through her all at once. if it weren’t for the wall, her legs might have given out from under her. she might just be a heap on the floor, surrounded by all the spring flowers.

matty kisses with such reckless abandon that it steals her breath away. kisses her until her heart swells in her chest, ready to burst. her fingers tangle themselves into his hair and she kisses him back with everything in her. she can’t care less about how public this is, there’s only him in this moment.

only the two of them on a warm spring night suspended in this one moment.

she almost whines when matty pulls back. annoyed beyond belief that he’d pull away now.

“mat—”

“it’s late.”

“it’s not!”

“it is, love.” suddenly his voice has gone gentle, almost quiet. matty pulls his old phone out of his pocket (with the screen cracked and all) and holds it in front of her. the screen flashes with 11:17

shit where did all the time go?

matty makes no move to untangle himself from her arms, still pressed against her. in her ead she forms a childlike grudge against his phone. if it weren’t for it, they would have never known what time it was…

“i hate this.” her voice comes out thick with tears and something wet hits her nose. “i don’t want to go, i don’t want you to go. please.” but even then she knows how unfair it is to put him in this situation.

matty’s caresses her cheek, wiping away her tears, smiling at her like she’s the most gentle precious thing in the whole world.

and maybe she is. in his world.

“you’ll finish school too,” he says, voice a low murmur, “and then you have a uni to attend. so much shit to do. god, you’re brilliant enough to get everything you want.”

but it’s you i want. still she doesn’t say it. not just yet.

she nuzzles his palm instead, placing a soft kiss on it. “i hate spring. i wish it was autumn instead. i’d be starting uni at least.”

“and you will,” matty reassures again. “you’re going to do so many things.”

“you won’t be here to see them…”

and there it is, all the things she’s been holding deep inside laid bare. matty looks at her for a long time and smiles sadly. “who said that? i’d find you, we will keep in touch. isn’t spring meant to be about new beginnings and all that? so why don’t we start a pact?”

“that’s a silly idea,” she teases but even then she’s eager to know what he means.

matty ignores it. “stay here for spring and summer, finish school. i’ll find you when autumn comes.”

“you’d really do that?”

“who’s gonna help you move into uni halls huh?”

through tears she laughs. only matty could make it sound so exciting. only matty could make her hate it so much less.

she doesn’t trust herself to speak anymore so she kisses him instead. he tastes like peaches, mint and something sweet. the very first boy she’s ever loved. the boy she will always love.

he’s leaving soon, she knows it. who knows maybe she will wake up tomorrow and he will be gone. she feels all that passes between them and she tries to send all her longing and all her yearning down that bond. for a brief second she is determined to make matty stay through sheer willpower.

but that would be the most selfish thing she’s ever done. and so she smiles and lets him go.

matty might be leaving but she’ll always have this one warm spring night. even as the clock inches towards midnight and a new day threatens to arrive.

for a brief moment she wonders if she can make time stand still. this one moment stretched into eternity.

but the minutes tick by anyway. and tomorrow comes anyway.

taglist: @scooby-doodoo, @partoftheairforce, @justgoatsbreakinghearts0855@beachesgetpeaches, @you-muppet, @mcabister, @alexmarie29, @at-her-very-foreign, @hfkait, @squishysoupy @sierraeslaprincesa @harrie-fic-center @alien-girl-violet @thereisaplaceintheheart @kennedy-brooke @lolidontknowanymore @theoriginalwhatsername@celestcies @sugarkane1001 @ari-turner @thewaywewereinsaigon @daphnesutton @beliefandsayingsomething @ros3chu @nothingrevealedeverythingdenied @zzzhealy @mattymybeloved @fck-off @indiaamars @sofaritsalrightt @k4tie75 @wondersecret @humptyhoran @indierockgirrl @hanbiior @moreyoulove-moreyouknow @rossgirly @if-my-heart-bleeds @little-lovely-darling @abriefnirvana @renitypoem @sinarainbows @lady-may-targaryen @love4agesss @angrylittlebaldman @oneluckygirl @sinarainbows @starvchaser @noacfapologyst @abouttofillhisshoes @tbhnotthatfunny

add yourself to the taglist

#spring fics #seasons #the 1975 #matty healy #matty healy x reader #matty healy x you #matty x reader #matty x you

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missveryvery · 6 months

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Xianle Quartet being besties on the adult bluesky acct.

This is maybe the prettiest Xie Lian I've done. And it's...in this ridiculous porn thing lmao ; ; I like them all getting along :)

(You have to adjust your filters in your bluesky acct on desktop in order to see adult stuff, btw).

My not-adult acct is here, btw.

#mxtxnet #tgcf fanart #tgcf #xianle quartet #xianle trio #xie lian #hualian #hua cheng #mu qing #feng xin #fengqing #art #fanart

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wannaeatramyeon · 8 months

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HOWWW DO U WRITE SO FAST AND SO WELL I LITERALLY TAKE WEEKS TO WRITE ANYTHING WORTHWHILE YET U ARE ABLE TO CHURN THESE THINGS OUT IN A HEARTBEAT ITS SO IMPRESSIVE

this time could u maybe do jake kim with a childhood friends!lover? im just imagining him with someone whose dad is also from the pre-generation, sorta like jerry (he can have a cameo we love that bad boy <3)

I'm pretty impulsive as a person... and when something grips me then. I need to do it. Luckily I don't have too much going on irl lmao so I have a lotta free time.

Jake Kim x Reader: Childhood friends

G/N.

"Smile when you're spoken to. Stay silent and out of sight when you're not."

It's important. You must follow these two pieces of instruction at all cost.

You nod when your dad reminds you again, squatting down to adjust your collar and your hair.

"Come on then, little one," he says, smiling softly. He doesn't hold his hand out as he usually does, leaving you to trail behind. Almost tripping over your shoelaces in an effort to keep up with his large strides.

Gapryong Kim's house is impressive, much more impressive than your apartment.

It's big and spacious. Ample room to run around and play. Your eye passes over the expensive breakable vases and severe decor, instead focusing on the long corridors and small nooks and crannies perfect for hiding.

You're shuffled off into a corner, not before being introduced to the owners, your dad's boss, first. You remember to smile and say hello back with full honorifics when Gapryong and Minseon greets you. Bowing at a full ninety degrees just like you had practised.

You find it hard not to fidget as you sit by the doorway. Bored and eyes occasionally falling closed at whatever is happening, not understanding the words or sentences as the adults talk in the centre of the room.

A gangly boy pokes his head around, holds out his hand, and you startle at his appearance. "Come on. This is boring, let's go."

Stay silent and out of sight. This counts, right?

You look over at your dad and find him observing you two. He gives you a small smile and a nod and you take this boy's hand.

His name is Jake Kim.

His name is Jake Kim and he's Gapryong's son. He walks the corridors with a quiet confidence and self assured stride. Hands behind his head and chewing his gum loudly.

He asks for your name and you tell him. He repeats it back to you with a grin and says it's cool, then digs in his pocket to offer you a stick of gum.

You spend hours in his bedroom together. Reading through comics and talking about nothing in particular as children often do. Only occasionally interrupted by adults bringing in drinks and snacks. Until the sun sinks and sunset oranges and reds filter through his window.

"It's amazing here!" you say, cheeks stuffed with hotteok and spraying crumbs everywhere.

Jake only shrugs.

You see Jake regularly after that.

You ask to tag along, and at first your dad is reluctant. You plead and whine and promise to be on your best behaviour and he gives in.

Gapryong and Minseon are always pleased to see you. Jake is even more so.

Jake is sullen and reserved around his parents but he smiles and laughs a lot with you.

He teases and jokes when it's just the two of you and you think he might be the funniest boy you've ever met.

You ask him who his favourite bands are and he doesn't know. When you tell him yours, he also doesn't know who they are. You gasp in shock and pull out your phone and headphones from your bag, pass him an earbud and listen to the sound of perky k-pop together.

"They're ok." Jake tells you with a grin, "I've heard better."

You give him a shove for that.

"Here," Jake gives you the last cookie and your greedy hands take it without a second thought.

He always gives you the last of everything. Watch you fervently fill your face in both disgust and awe.

"How do you eat so much!" he tries to give you a pinch, and you giggle, ducking out of the way. "You eat more than me!"

You smile, opening your mouth wide with half chewed food and he pretends to gag.

It never occurs to you how, whenever you visit, only your favourite snacks are served.

"This is Jerry,"

You look up at the boy next to Jake, and your neck seems to crane for a lifetime before finally resting on his face.

"You're huge!" You say, a little mean.

"Am not!" Jerry responds back to you, face flushing red. You give Jerry your half eaten snack as an apology and he accepts.

Jake grins, slinging his arm around the two of you, dragging you both out into the courtyard and away from the adults talking.

You sit shoulder to shoulder with Jake, Jerry on his other side. The house is filled with people dressed in black. Tears and sighs and subdued mutterings.

Jake doesn't cry today, neither does Minseon. He just stares at the portrait of his dad, not saying a word all day.

Your dad has smoked more today than you have ever seen in your life.

Eventually, when the alcohol is flowing and the adults get too rowdy, you sit with Jake in his bedroom. For hours and hours, just like the first time. Long after Jerry and most of the other adults have left. You hold him, tucking him into your side and he leans into your warmth.

His face is on your shoulder, so is a wetness. You don't say anything and keep holding him until your body is stiff and your knees hurt. You still don't move. You're there for as long as Jake needs you.

Jake's smile returns, after some time.

It doesn't quite feel the same though. You feel his childhood sweetness fading away and you don't know how to hold on to it.

There is a brief moment in time, during your friendship with Jake, where your growth spurt kicks in and you're taller than him.

You tiptoe and rest your elbow on his head. It's uncomfortable. He's still too tall, and you're not tall enough to make the pose work. Yet, you still do it every opportunity you get.

The opportunity does not last long.

Jake is gangly, grows ganglier still. He shoots up like bamboo and you think there's no stopping him.

You think he might be the tallest middle schooler in the world... until you see Jerry again and you think he is definitely the tallest middle schooler in the world.

Jake doesn't know when it hits him.

One day you're just you. His best friend that he has known forever. Goofy and silly. Snorts when they laugh, talks with their mouth full.

The next, your hair is shiny and your lashes are long. He thinks you smell nice and your smile makes him feel like he's dying in the best way possible.

Jerry catches him watching you and encourages him to confess.

Jake grimaces at the thought, at his transparency. His words come out indecipherable and muffled against his pillow.

Jerry doesn't say anything, just laments the fact he might be the third wheel forever.

It should be simple. Like you two becoming friends. Easy and uncomplicated.

Jake's natural charm is nowhere to be found. Having always been comfortable in his body, he now feels his legs are too long, his limbs too lanky around you. He stumbles over his feet more often than not. Finds himself tongue tied and red cheeked.

"What's wrong with you!" your hands grab onto his shirt, yanking him back upright as he trips for the third time in as many minutes.

Jake has always been cute. With his chubby cheeks and sharp eyes and kind smile.

Today, he tries out a wink on you (and you wonder where the hell he has picked that from), you can't help but think he's handsome too.

You and Jake still hang out frequently in his bedroom.

Minseon asks that he keeps the door open at all times, something she has never requested before, and you both burn crimson.

"Help me," Jake pouts, thrusting his school work at you. It's a Physics problem and he knows you suck at Physics.

You're both lying on your front on his bed, pressed at the shoulders.

"Burn it." You tell him and he laughs, sweeping all the books and stationery to the floor and turning onto his back.

"Sorry," you put down your phone and look at him. Has he always had those golden flecks in his eyes?

"Don't be." He sighs. "I think I'm gonna be held back a year."

"Aw Jake," You giggle, running your fingers through his hair, "You're definitely going to be the tallest in your class then."

He grabs your hand, stopping it mid-movement and rolls his eyes fondly. "You're a shit."

He doesn't let go. You forget how to breathe.

Jake has promised you ice cream, and you wait for him outside Gangseo Middle School.

He introduces you to Brad Lee and Jason Yoon and their eyes widen in recognition at your name.

"Oh, so that's-" Brad starts before receiving a sharp elbow in the stomach from Jason.

"Sorry Ma'am!" Ma'am?!

Jason gives you a bow, tells you it's nice to finally meet you and drags Brad away.

"What have you told them about me?"

Jake is shifty. Fidgety. He avoids your eyes and concentrates on his cone of ice-cream. Pretends he doesn't hear you even as you lean into his space.

"Jake Kim, I know you haven't suddenly gone deaf."

A bubble of laughter escapes his throat. He still doesn't say anything.

"Fine," You click your tongue in annoyance. "Be like that."

"I told them I like you." Jake catches you off guard a few weeks later. When you're lying on his floor watching a video on your phone, hand inside a bag of potato chips.

"Huh?"

"Brad and Jason," Jake rubs the back of his neck, "I told them that I like you."

Wait, what?!

You catch a glimpse of yourself in his full length mirror. You hair unbrushed and unwashed, dressed in your favourite, most comfortable thread bare outfit, potato chip crumbs around your mouth and down your front.

The most bizarre question grips you. "Even right now?"

Jake frowns, looks at you as if you're stupid. "Yeah?"

"Oh." It feels like a realisation, even though it's not. Not really. Not with the way you two are around each other.

You don't look at Jake as you return his affection, telling him you like him too, shy and cheeks flushed.

His response mirrors yours, "Oh."

You chance a peek at him and he looks as red as you feel. You don't think you've ever seen Jake blush before. It's deeply endearing and you sear the image into your heart forever.

"What now then?" you ask. Because if you both like each other then...

Jake plops down next to you, giving you a shrug accompanied with the sweetest smile you have ever seen. He takes your hand, greasy and food stained and all, and interwines your fingers together.

"I dunno. I should take you out on a proper date."

You nod, but it doesn't matter.

You look at your hand in his, think about taking his hand for the first time all those years ago and realise you've been each other's since the beginning.

#lookism #lookism x reader #lookism fanfic #jake kim #jake kim x reader #kim gimyung x reader #kim gimyeong x reader #wannaeatramyeon

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theveesbf · 2 months

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Hey I was wondering if you could do (platonic) Husk x reader that is around a teen to young adult in age, who calls him dad (they aren't biologically related), like the first thing they do after entering the hotel and spotting Husk is run up to him cling on and basically declares that he's their dad now. The reader is pretty chaotic and has a lot of high energy but also clings around Husk a lot.

Platonic! Husk X Teen!reader

︴Notes - Hello!!! Tyy for the request! I'm not that good at writing Husk so sorry for anything🙏

︴Content - Husk headcannons with a teenager reader who is chaotic and sees Husk as a father.

Husk isn't really known for being the most affectionate or kind person.

And he's definetly not known for being a father.

But ever since you got to the hotel, this changed a bit. Husk was your father!

Well, not literally, he didn't know you until you stepped inside the building, but you called him "Dad" and is really clingy with him.

So I guess he just kind of accepts it? It's not like trying to make you go away worked.

You're like Niffty, just less psychotic and crazy, but oh boy do you got energy.

No matter how many times you had ran inside the hotel because he asked you to (seeing if you'd get tired), you never stopped even for a minute!

Husk had to get used at you playing with his ears. If he didn't liked Niffty doing so, now Husk have 2 people to do it!!

Husk is going to get used with your presence, and even begin to act like a father lmao.

I mean, he probably acted before too being all protective and stuff since you're a literal teenager!

But he's going to be more like one, even saying those really bad jokes only a father would tell.

If you don't swear a lot, Husk is not going to do it a lot too. But if you do, Husk is not going to worry about a "filter" with you.

He will make sure you're safe there, especially with trying to do everything he can to make you avoid Alastor.

But you can go and play with Niffty if you like her! She can be a lot, but still really fun to hang out with!

You just need to understand her a bit.

But yeah, if you do, now you're basically Husk's child and Niffty's sister lmao!

#husk x reader #niffty x reader #platonic #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin #hazbin hotel husk #niffty #alastor #gender neutral reader

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bbangtans · 28 days

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searching & finding | knj | oneshot teaser

⋆☀︎｡ Summary: Wake up, go to work, go home, cook dinner, rinse, and repeat: that was your life had come to post-grad. Once a young woman with larger-than-life aspirations, you’ve been downtrodden by the world's harsh realities. Now, after taking out all your savings and having only one large suitcase in tow, you find yourself in an idyllic seaside town to figure out what’s next for you. Luckily, the bookshop owned by the town’s beloved Kim Namjoon will always be a place of solace for you no matter how sudden the seasonal showers are.

pairing: namjoon x f!reader genre: non-idol au, fluff, romance, strangers to friends to lovers, book cafe owner genius namjoon is saurrrrr dreamy bro, reader just wants to find inner peace, yoongi is just the cool cousin there for the ride lmao, and jungkook is namjoon’s cute cafe assistant hehehehe rating/warnings: PG-15 | language, alcohol consumption, mentions of sex a/n: kim namjoon is my beacon of light through a storm. this is for anyone feeling a lil lost, sending you the warmest hug ever 🫂 and inspired by summer strike – that drama will always have a place in my heart, and what you are looking for is in the library – a hopeful, meditative read i highly rec! word count: ~10k will be posted on Sunday, April 21st at 10PM PST! <3 EDIT: post date moved to Sunday, April 27th!

“So, what brings you here to Pohang?” A tall, dimpled man approached your table as he set down the iced americano you ordered in front of you. He tucked his small serving tray under his arm as he eyed the stack of manga that you had, ready to indulge in a day of catching up on Haikyuu. You were the only customer in the establishment as it was late afternoon so that meant the kids were in school while the adults were busy at work. The soft sunlight filtered through the sheer white curtains of the front window, giving the book cafe a yellowish hue. The end of another day was near.

You thanked him as you tried to think of an answer. “Uh… I’m visiting my cousin, Yoongi, for the summer. Taking a break from Seoul after some things happened and just figuring out… life, I guess.”

Internally, you wanted to scream because you felt like you were oversharing.

He gave a deep, thoughtful hum to your response. “Well, I think you’ve come to the right place. This place, although small compared to Seoul, has a lot to offer. And I’m Namjoon, by the way.”

You gladly gave your name as well and Namjoon repeated it to himself as though tasting how your name felt on his lips. You couldn’t help but feel your face flush slightly, Namjoon was definitely attractive. From his towering, defined build to honey-like, sun-kissed skin and topped off with dimples that punctuated a bright smile, he was a sight to behold for sure. “Thanks, I’m looking forward to seeing more of it as I figure things out.”

“Yeah,” he excitedly responded. “And I guess I’ll be seeing more of you around. I hope you find whatever it is you’re looking for out here.”

“Same here.”

Your small smile matched his.

#bbangtans ff #bbangtans nj ff #bts fanfic #bts #bts x reader #bts fanfiction #bts x you #bts x y/n #rm x reader #rm x you #rm x y/n #namjoon x reader #namjoon #namjoon fluff #namjoon one shot #namjoon imagine #kim namjoon

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zeep-xanflorp · 6 months

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ok i'm just gonna ramble ab unmortricken bc i have exactly ZERO COHERENT THOUGHTS AB IT

evil morty backstory - i rlly like that they just made him some random morty who rose above everything after getting sick of rick's abuse. it makes what he did feel even more earned and weighty. i think his motivation is a bit extreme still but i can't rlly blame him.

it's cool seeing infinity beyond the central finite curve. the jetsons inspired bit was v amusing bc i forgot about them lmao. but otherwise it seems absolutely wild west beyond the curve and i LIVE for that.

i also didnt imagine that we'd be seeing him again. i thought the way he left the show was perfect and if they brought him back it would just feel cheap but it DOESNT in this episode i love his appearance.

i rlly like seeing our morty be supportive of rick. he's literally trying everything to cheer him up and it's very important to me.

the prime decoys confuse me. like do they all share a consciousness? is prime just very very good at fucking with ppl that he's made all the decoys communicate w each other?

evil morty outsmarting rick is a great recurring theme in the episode. "filter for probability stasis" YEAH U TELL HIM LITTLE DUDE. we've never seen a morty like that EXCEPT for him and i think it's wonderful.

the exchange between rick and evil morty. "you're such a narcissist" / "literal glass house" / "you think you're better than me?" / "jesus i HOPE SO" SHITTING

i didnt initially like the decoy trap thing being full of loads of other ricks. it made me feel like our rick wasn't very important to this dude and rick just made an enemy of a guy who didn't know he existed. BUT i don't stand by that anymore. the rest of the episode made me change my mind very quickly with.

the omega device. holy fuck this is the worst reveal to come out of this episode. she wasn't just killed, she was ERASED by prime in every reality. like she is GONE gone. that's why we've never seen her, save in flashbacks and memories. she's gone.

and i'm pretty sure it's our rick's fault that he did that. we see his beth and his diane be killed by a bomb, not wiped from reality like slo mobius is later in the episode. so his family was killed BEFORE all the shit with the omega device. ik correlation ≠ causation, but it rlly explains why our rick in particular is so hungry for revenge. if he was the one that made prime kill diane everywhere then he had to be the one to make prime pay for it.

i like how the multiple monitors seems to be prime's signature move. it happens here and in the s6 premiere.

and oh fuck the parallels. "when i invent something it works, it's called being talented" in story train vs "when i make a weapon in works."

oh man the diane head weapon thing. it's interesting that it was programmed to mock rick sexually, but even on our rick who knows it's a trap, it still affects him seeing her face again. "god i missed that face." and then the blank stare when she asks for a kiss. pretty sweet and fucked up.

rick and evil morty having to work together to get their portals working. the contrast between our morty freaking out and evil morty blank staring.

the bit with the portal closing too soon. i know it happened earlier this season and i think it's so funny lmao.

I CANNOT STRESS TO YOU ENOUGH THAT I WAS SO MADE WHEN I WORKED OUT THAT INSTEAD OF YELLING WHILE GOING THROUGH THE CURVE THING IN THE MIDFLE OF THE EP HE WAS SCREAMING "PRIME" THOSE DIABOLICAL LITTLE BASTARDS AT ADULT SWIM.

prime calling rick the Wife Guy. hilarious. raises questions. makes me gnaw on my cell bars.

AND THEN the second incredible reveal of the episode: "Honestly, Wife Guy, I do miss when it was just us. The only two Ricks who actually invented portal travel." WHAT bestie prime bby girl u need to say that again. you guys were the ONLY ones who invented interdimensional travel, every rick's claim to fame. but no they just got the technology from prime who started a boys club of ricks who wanted to leave their lives behind that our rick refused.

but the reference to a time when they were closer, when it was only them - HELLO?? maybe i'm grasping at straws bc i want them to bang but holy shit.

the confirmation of the fan theory that rick based his AI voice on his wife. 10/10.

and then the fight scene. oh gods the fight scene. rick just screaming that he'll kill prime. prime regenerating constantly, looking unscathed as our rick becomes more and more dishevelled. it's too perfect i CANT. but otherwise they both seem pretty evenly matched w all the implants and stuff so without the regeneration i think rick would've had him. oh well.

rick like literally died during the fight.

the cool grandson/shitty grandpa exchange gives me breath. i LOVE how it's a morty that outsmarts prime. it's what he deserves.

prime still trying to be a smartass to evil morty, growing more and more panicked as it goes on bc he doesn't know what to do with the situation and control for once is not in his hands.

"what are u gonna 'aw geez' me to death?"

evil morty not even explaining his plan, just silently dragging in our rick and reviving him. saying "knock yourself out" with the intended double meaning. prime's almost scared expression as rick gets dragged in.

and then our rick has a choice. he can stop evil morty from keeping the weapon plans or he can kill prime. but that's a choice he made already. it's not even a decision. so his other enemy gets away.

the brutal brutal scene at the end when rick is just hitting prime. no tech, no implants, no gadgets. just fists. and rick beats him literally to a pulp as prime screams and laughs at him and taunts him further. it's meant to be sickening. it's meant to be personal. and it accomplishes that perfectly.

they don't even show prime's body in great detail. it's RIGHT in the background but we heard the sounds of the punches, we saw his nose break and his bloody teeth and haemorrhaging eyes and his brains coming out the side of it head and all we can make out is his fucked up swollen and broken face in the background as he sits still attached to the chair, a river of his blood pouring from the room.

but its not triumphant. they made rick's revenge hollow and bittersweet. its over but it destroyed rick in the process. who is he now that he isn't hunting prime? fucking no one.

then "look on down from the bridge" starts playing. we heard this in season 1 in rick potion #9 after morty had to bury a version of himself. he was struggling with the purpose of his life after switching universes. but he deals with it and overcomes it.

i think that scene is rick, for the first time in the entire show, struggling with his nihilistic philosophy. bc yes, he's shown to be an existentialist in the show (the difference being existentialists are "nothing matters but this matters to me" instead of "nothing matters so i don't have to do anything"). he had a drive. he had ppl he cared about. but now he's reached his goal he just feels empty and hollow. everything's meaningless and he's NOT okay with that. he never has been, but he has to grapple with that finally now he doesn't have a distraction. i don't think he can just bounce back and move past what happened.

ppl are saying this episode felt overstuffed and maybe it was but i'm very pleased with it and want to know where it's going.

i feel we still don't know the full story with prime. i'm predicting a flash back episode in the future explaining what the nature of their relationship was like before the bomb incident.

we also know that evil morty has this weapon that could destroy all ricks. so that is just a ticking bomb.

anyway i can't wait for angsty rick.

i actually watched unforgiven for this episode bc i'm a big fan of westerns anyway. the only real parallels i can see is they both have a group of three (two are already partners and the other one is the call to adventure) and an unsatisfying ending. bc that's the nature of westerns. they should NEVER end happily, and if u think so then ur wrong (/nsrs enjoy media how u want).

some things i haven't mentioned but enjoyed nonetheless

the schematics for the omega device is titled <SCHEMATICS BOOGER-AIDS-V2>

the arm/leg swap best in the fight

the comparison between the song at the end playing here and in season one shows with just visuals how the dynamic of beth and jerry's (and beth's) marriage has evolved since then.

everyone freaking out when indiana jones rick shoots and it ricochets off the wall and evil morty just stands expressionless until it hits his forcefield.

morty going to hug rick covered in blood, realising, hesitating, and then doing it later anyway to try and make rick feel better.

evil morty making a point to say that he doesn't want vengeful summers coming after him for omega devicing rick. not vengeful mortys, vengeful SUMMERS.

just evil morty in this whole episode was an absolute delight i need to see him more.

THE TEAR MARKS AFTER RICK EMERGES FROM BEATING PRIME TO DEATH

slo mobius' wife almost going down the same path our rick did only to find someone she loves and focus on that, saving her. makes me wonder if they're gonna try putting rick in a relationship.

this ended up being way longer than it should have. anyway. very pleased. this season is hitting all the marks for me overall.

also don't be too hard on me i didnt edit this 😭

#rick and morty #rick sanchez #rick n morty #r&m #rnm #rick c 137 #rick c137 #rick #rick and morty spoilers #unmortricken #rick and morty season 7 #rick and morty season 7 spoilers #rick prime #evil morty #prickcest #rick and morty meta

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lupinedreaming · 8 months

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As it is the time of year when I re-enter Beetlejuice mode, I’m kind of looking back and wondering /why/Beetlebabes was (and still is to an extent) such a divisive ship. I understand not liking the underage version; I don’t like it either. I think underage stuff is gross. But most people seem to ship it in scenarios when Lydia is an adult.

Part of my confusion is from encountering similar ships that barely get any backlash? Like, I’ve read aged up Sarah/Jareth fic in the past, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen much backlash against it, and that ship is pretty similar in a lot of ways to Beetlebabes. There are also villain ships here on Tumblr that are waaay darker and problematic, but they’re very popular. I’ve never seen the Hannibal show, but Hann/igram continues to be wildly popular on this site, and from what I’ve gathered, it’s a pretty damn f’d up ship.

But yeah! Idk what sets people off so hard with even adult, consensual Beetlebabes stuff. There have been times when I’m browsing the general Beetlejuice tag, and I’ll see people talking about how much they hate the ship and people who like it even enough I haven’t seen /any/ content for the ship in the main tag. If you’re encountering it in the wild on Tumblr, it’s pretty easy to filter the tag and block people. It’s also easy to filter that tag on AO3.

But people act like they’re being forced to view it at gunpoint or something or like glimpsing art of the ship will make then go mad with the knowledge like a Lovecraft protagonist lmao. I think people should be able to talk about why they don’t like a ship or why they find it problematic, but with this one, some people seemingly want to push anyone out of the fandom that ships it. To paraphrase the MST3K mantra, “It’s just a (ship); (you) should really just relax.”

#🌹 eclipse talks #beetlebabes #If you dislike this ship and see this post please just block and move on. I won’t reply if you try to argue

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selfproclaimedunicorn · 17 days

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director’s cut on aldreda’s childhood/emotional development!

This has activated something in my brain that’s probably gonna see me writing a full lore novel about Aldreda & (my version) of Dance Era House Farwynd, like, I’m literally typing this up on a google doc just for my own ease of answering, I have no idea how long this is going to be lmao. Anyway, I’m gonna start off with a couple things that definitely need to be known as the baseline & then I’ll move on from there with wherever the wind takes me.

The baseline of knowledge we need to go forward is this: Aldreda is the only girl out of 21 children, she watched her number of siblings slowly dwindle starting from the time she was 4 until she was 26, she is one of only 2 kids her dad’s rock wife/Ironborn wife had.

There’s not really any way to sugar coat either of Aldreda’s parents. They both suck in their own way. Their relationship was never good. but it’s definitely in shambles now. They are the source of a lot of Aldreda being the way she is, they aren’t all of it (we’ll get to the rest of it) but they are a big, big foundational part.

Alfric Farwynd, the Lord Reaver of Lonely Light is the archetypical Ironborn lord. He’s what everyone wants to be, but he’s so far away from every other noble house in the Iron Islands that he just kind of gets ignored a lot of the time & has unchecked power over his lonely little island. He has 3 salt wives, one of which he kidnapped/married before he even got married to his arranged islander wife. He spent his entire youth raiding & pillaging & he probably has an army of bastard kids he doesn’t know about amongst the thralls of other Ironborn houses & his own castle & even on the mainland if any women got left behind. This guy sucks, he saw a vat of “respect women juice” & dumped it into the ocean so no one could drink it. He doesn’t care about his wives, he barely cares about his daughter, & the only reason he doesn’t have any more kids is because his wives started getting menopausal & his dick stopped working when he was in his mid 60s (RIP Alfric Farwynd, you would have loved viagra). The only person who will ever live up to his expectations is himself, and he was the measuring stick he held up to his sons. He constantly criticized them & they never were exactly how he wanted by virtue of being their own people instead of extensions of himself like he wanted; they were sons though & they met his expectations better than Aldreda ever did. Especially after they died, when they could stop disappointing him & he could project whatever prowesses & perfections onto them he wanted (this was especially true of the ones who died in the cradle & didn’t even get tainted memories of their “failings”). Aldreda kind of wasn’t even a neat party trick to parade around, she was mostly ignored & if asked he'd really only be able to say “she's one of my kids, man, I don’t know. She has my eyes, I like that.” He was cold & distant & critical, & he loves his brothers in his own way but he’s not really “dad material” because he’s too caught up in the toxic pseudo-viking machismo of the Iron Islands. As a little girl, Aldreda was terrified of him, and even as an adult in her late 20s she kind of still is; but she covers that up by performing the same kind of toxic attitudes Alfric has & lashing out within the parameters of Ironborn Manliness As Filtered Through The Lense Of A Woman Victimized By It.

Lady Melusine Myre is…not mentally okay. She is resentful, she is full of grief, & she doesn’t know where to put any of it. She only had 2 children: Ronas & Aldreda. Her son died in the cradle before her daughter was even born, her husband blamed her for his death, & when he finally came back to her she had a daughter & he never came back. She blames the salt wives for her husband being Like This & harbors resentment for those 3 women who don’t even want to be there & each son they give her husband; she doesn’t celebrate when those boys & men die though, because how can she? Their mothers mourn like she does & she understands that pain at least. She has never been her husband’s first choice, & really he probably wouldn’t have been hers, but she was promised the story of “being a noble reaver’s rock wife, his real wife he can only have one of who will give him sons & carry on the family line & he’ll like you more than all those silly mainland wives he takes. It is a good thing for your husband to have those, by the way, it means he is prosperous & rich & can take care of that many wives & all their kids!” She tells herself she’s okay with it, but she isn’t. She wants love & closeness & intimacy, but she hasn’t gotten that a day in her adult life since she got shipped off to Lonely Light away from the other Iron Islands to marry The Absolute Most Ironborn Man There Is Currently. She doesn’t have a partner, she lost her son, she got abandoned but still has to live with the man who did that to her, so she uses her only kid to fill her emotional needs. Like, Lady Melusine’s boundaries with Aldreda are paper fucking thin, they basically aren’t there. Aldreda is her mom’s therapist, she has to live up to her standards that change every day, & she has never had a moment of privacy with that woman. “It doesn’t matter that you started puberty, I’m your mother & I don’t need to knock to come into your room.”/“It doesn’t matter that you’re a grown woman now, I’m your mother & I’m going to rant at you about some slight against me while you’re taking a bath or getting changed.” And in return for this fucky, laborious emotional incest, Aldreda’s payment is “I will support you doing your gender weird stuff & back you up now that you’re the only claimant to Lonely Light,” & yes that is tied to how much Lady Melusine loves her daughter, but it’s also got a small undercurrent of “if you want to replace all your dead brothers, that is my revenge against everyone who I think has wronged me when you succeed.”

So Aldreda has this just really intense parental situation while living in an incredibly isolated & insular court. Growing up her friends were either her half brothers, or the children of her father’s raiders, or some thrall’s kid: vast power & age imbalances. Aldreda’s oldest brother was 25 when she was born, & she was 20 when her youngest brother was born.

Her favorite person was her older brother Orwen (who was 20 when he died, & Aldreda was 13 when that happened). She looked up to him & wanted to be like him, at least in some respects, & he took care of her. Aldreda wasn’t just “his annoying little sister,” he taught her to fight & brought her little trinkets back from raids & told her cool stories about how badass he was during said raids. Orwen was great, but, like, also one of his best friends was their Open-Secret-Serial-Predator-To-Tween-And-Teen-Girls cousin, Westley. Orwen kept Aldreda safe from him, he warned her to not spend time with him alone & in turn told Westley to leave her alone, but Aldreda was still being nurtured in an environment where people were just kind of lowkey okay with what was going on & really only cared to protect her.

Her childhood was never that idyllic, but when she was super little she tried really hard to convince herself it was. She was 4 the first time one of her brothers died, then there were 2 more a year later, & then things were okay until she was 9 & 1 more died; little baby Aldreda didn’t really get it but she knew that there were stories about House Farwynd skinchanging into seals & so she just got it in her head that early to decide that’s what happened with her brothers. “Sure, Winfirth/Faren & Edgard/Theon are gone, but they aren’t gone gone! They’re seals now! I went down to the rookery & picked the one(s) I think is him/them!” And she never stopped doing that. Because yes, her parents suck & her dad only kind of loves them & her mom wants her to not love her half-brothers, but they’re her brothers & she loves them. She grieves & mourns for the short time she allows herself by going pure copium & deciding “this seal is my brother & he will get to live on as that animal for another 15 or so years, maybe 25 if we don’t set him loose!” & then she moves on (or at least convinces herself she does) because she doesn’t want to be like her parents. Except she is. She has turned Orwen into a saint in her memory, she has built her dead brothers up in her mind to act as the voice of her own self-doubt & self-criticism; and she is full of grief that she’s choking on & doesn’t know what to do with. She can’t let it out though, so it eats at her from the inside until she does something either to herself or someone else to let it out with sex or violence (like, she was fully carrying on an affair with the thrall who used to be Orwen’s salt wife for a good 5 years & was just like “this is a normal thing to do”).

When she lost 3 brothers in one fell swoop at 13 (favorite included), she decided “I am a girl, but I’m a son, y’know? Daughter but in a boy type way” & cut her hair short & started trying to live up to the persona Lord Alfric wanted of his sons & joined her cousin’s crew to go on raids. Except Orwen was dead & there was no one to save Aldreda from Westley, his men weren’t going to stop him from grooming her & making her attachment styles even worse (because he threatened them). She’s been fixated on him since she was 13/14 & it was a “positive” fixation until she was 26, then he showed his true colors of just being blindly ambitious & also a little bit delusional but she can’t stop being fixated on him because that’s over a decade of being manipulated & abused & thinking they were star crossed lovers & that “when he says the time is right I'm going to give him my maidenhead.” She still romanticizes what happened to her before remembering all the harm she learned he did & then it turns into the most (justifiably) hateful & violent fixation known to man: it's still a fixation though.

She's not her mother or her father, she's something entirely separate & wholly worse: their daughter who never stopped being a sad, traumatized teenage girl in the middle of being emotionally abused & manipulated.

#asks #oc: aldreda farwynd

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