#anyway i have Many Thoughts about touching sentiments and i love talking about it
Note
Hello! So I really want sink my teeth into Touching Sentiments but I'm unclear whether it's supposed to be read chronologically or following the sequence that they're posted in? Do you have any particular recommendation? Either way I'm excited to witness the sappy wizards being in love and kiss a lot
Oh, hello hello!! :D
I got a little rambly, so here's a summary, and I'll get into more nitty-gritty thoughts under the cut :3
Tl;dr: there is no 'supposed to' about it at all!
If your curiosity is caught by some fics and not others, each fic is technically independent of the others and thus all of them can be read in whatever order and quantity you see fit!
On the other hand, if you're specifically interested in TS!Essek's characterization/relationship developments and want to catch up with everything, I suggest the following:
Note the date you start reading the series
Read in chronological order, ignoring fics that are posted behind your own pace through the series (i.e. no need to backread)
Then read in posting order, beginning from the date you started reading the series (and if you run into a fic you have already read, you can just skip it!)
That should get you through Touching Sentiments without missing anything :3
-
And now for rambles, because I cannot be contained.
The two orders of the series (chronological and posting) are mainly for my own organizational purposes, and they both have their merits!
The chronological order, I see more as a linear explanation of characterization shifts and development, as well as a slightly clearer way to note how the emotional arcs and background events (i.e. out of Essek's primary focus) are moving, a more-or-less standard story structure of cause and effect in which A leads to B leads to C, etc (though with letters missing in the middle).
As for the posting order, since I'm writing disperate points of time concurrently, reading in the posting order can sometimes really showcase thematic and narrative parallels (ex. Essek and Caleb having a quiet, intimate night together vs. Not). It also starkly demonstrates where Essek's (and the Nein's) characterization could head (ex. early TS!Essek has a very hard time verbalizing his wants with his NPC syndrome, whereas he gets a better handle on it by 1.5 years down the road, so that contrast can be like 'whoa what how did that happen').
I do also try to keep everyone believably in-character based on whatever point in the timeline any particular fic is set, so jumping around might be disorienting in terms of characterization, but that's honestly part of the fun for me :3
So the thing is- it can be read in whatever order you'd like based on whatever strikes your fancy! You don't even have to read all of them, and I try to tag with enough detail so that people can find only what they want out of it.
For example, if you're specifically curious about the slow burn aspect of Essek and Caleb's relationship, you can read just the shadowgast fics tagged 'Slow Burn', or 'Pre-Relationship' + 'Developing Relationship', in chronological order. If you want to read how Essek interacts with Luc and Kingsley, and how the two compare, you can just jump around and read those fics. I try to keep each fic self-contained, and any references to in-series events are made under the assumption that they will be taken in stride (ex. as of right now there are references to the wizards taking a bath together around 1.5 years post-canon, but that fic has not been posted yet).
I hope that all answers your questions, but if not, please feel free to send another ask my way :D Have a nice day!! ^w^
#essek thelyss#chanswers#nottamoose#man i wish i could reorganize tags on mobile#anyway i have Many Thoughts about touching sentiments and i love talking about it#and am always open to answering questions about it xD#grown into a little beastie it has#the wizards have a vise grip on my brain#what will they do next#idk but yes i do unless i don't#i'm forever humbled that y'all are interested in watching this jigsaw puzzle get slapped together#feels like fingerpainting and it's very very fun :D#touchsent lore
25 notes
·
View notes
Note
This one is a bit smutty...Just a little lol. But !
Okay ! Imagine Neteyam being passed the title as the new olo'eyktan (Just to say that I have no idea when it is done. Like at a certain age or if mate is preg ? I don't know :P)
Him being very very stressed and all. So... they haven't been doing it for a moment (He's not really it the mood). And like one time, in the middle of the night he wakes up with a huge and hard one (He tries to ignore it but of course it doesn't work). He's like really needy and desperate to relief himself but for some reason he refuses to do it alone. Shortly after his mate wakes up because she feels him moving on the mat and hears muffled breathings (panting). And the rest is up to you !
It's kinda kinky haha :× Some slight subby Nete and maybe soft dom in the end :3
Anyways have sweet dreams tonight 💕🌌😴🌙And love your writing ! Muah*
this kinda got away from me hahahah
thank you bby, i really loved this actually! hope you enjoy x
wc: 1.8k words
warnings: smut (p in v, oral - m receiving, squirting, switch!Neteyam, overstimulation, choking) 18+ minors DNI
After some 20 years of incredible rule, it was finally time for Jake to step down as Olo'eyktan. It wasn't that he wasn't capable of going on, it was that it was more and more obvious by the day that Neteyam was ready. He was ready to step in his father's shoes, he was ready to fulfil the destiny that he was born into, that he had worked for tirelessly, every day of his 20 year long life. His father had no doubt in his mind that he would be the best clan leader the Omatikaya had ever seen, a sentiment shared among most of the villagers.
You were incredibly proud of your mate. He was the youngest Olo'eyktan the Omatikaya ever had, and he was more than raising to the challenge. It was an honour to be his mate, it was a privilege watching him be the person you always knew he was, the leader everyone had reason to look up to, the man of your dreams.
Unfortunately, the praise, the title and the status also came with so much burden, so much stress and responsibility, it was hard for either of you to keep up, hard for him to navigate, to find a balance. So recently, Neteyam has been distant and withdrawn, burying himself in work and strategies, being the first one to rise and the last one to sleep. He wanted to be a good leader, and he believed that a good leader should be an example for his people, should be the one that works the hardest, should be the one that continuously strives to be better and do better for his clan.
You barely saw him anymore, much less spent time with him, felt him, touched him, had him. You refused to intervene, though. Neteyam was a well of depth sometimes even you weren't capable enough to swim in, and you knew that when he was ready to talk to you, to let you in, he would. He always did, eventually. He just needed time.
Neteyam was exhausted. Turns out he owed his dad a million apologies for all the times he thought him cold, or unwieldy, or detached from reality or his family. Turns out he was just worried, and stressed and feeling the overbearing weight of so many lives depending on him to lead, to choose, to make the best decisions, and that was no easy task. Neteyam missed you. He felt guilt and sadness enwrap him tightly at the thought. He's always had time for you. You were his priority always, and yet he knew he didn't make good on that recently.
You have always been so in love with each other, so obsessed with each other, so into each other that the rest of the world felt middling and insignificant by comparison. Neteyam could pinpoint the stars in the sky in your eyes, the thrill of tumultuous waters in the colour of your skin, the bioluminescent beauty of Pandora in your eyes, the transcending comfort of the earth in the colour and feel of your hair. You were his world. You encapsulated everything he loved about it, about life, and he loved you, he needed you, he craved you more than he'd ever be able to describe.
The thought of you as he drifted off to sleep led him to dream about you, his mind transposing him to a reality he desired desperately, but which time didn't allow at the moment. He felt you, your taut, lean body writhing underneath him as his hands trailed it hungrily, as his lips claimed your mouth, as he took orgasm after orgasm, the lewd sounds escaping you music to his ears. The dream dissipated slowly, much to his disappointment, leaving him a panting mess, his cock twitching, hurting against his now too-tight loincloth.
"Fuck."
You were fast asleep in Neteyam's arms, your soft, steady breaths the only thing that could be heard in your shared tent. Your ass was pressed snugly against Neteyam's groin, furthering his pain and incessant need to just take you and fuck you until you both passed out in exhaustion, blissfully spent.
The sound of quiet moans woke you up from your dream-filled slumber, wet dreams haunting your mind recently, the only way you got to experience the release you needed desperately. Your eyes widened slightly when you realised the dream spilled onto your reality, and the sounds came from your mate, who seemed like he was in pain. You turned around hurriedly, only to find him sprawled on his back, long slender fingers wrapped around his thick length. The heat you felt within your womb spread like wildfire all within you, awakening your senses and focusing them on him, on his beautiful face contorted in pain, on his pheromones that inundated your nostrils, on the way the pronounced veins running down his arm were more accentuated with the grip he had on his cock, and God, what an incredible sight that was. Your mouth filled with saliva taking it all in, at the memories of all the times his dick made you see stars, at the thought of how he would again tonight, after so long of being without it. He was a god among men, and you had him. You owned him. Maybe it was time he was reminded of it.
"Neteyam... if you needed help, all you had to do was ask."
His moans increased in volume as you wrapped your fingers around him and started pumping him with slow, languid motions. He was rock hard under your touch, white liquid pooling at the tip, and you couldn't help but accept the silent invitation, bringing your lips to it and kissing him softly, throbbing deep inside of you at the way he was coming apart at the seams around you.
"Baby, please..."
"Patience, my love."
You took as much of his impressive length in your mouth as you could, feeling him deep in your throat, eyes watering as the pressure made you gag slightly. You started a slow, purposeful bob of your head, taking your time, feeling every vein, every ridge, every striation of his cock, learning him by heart, imprinting him in your mind. You loved this man, and as much as you loved when he rutted into you like an animal in heat, there was nothing that compared to the thrill of the power that came with seeing him putty in your hands, in your mouth, in you. As the ache you felt continued to rear its ugly head, you let go of him with a small pop and straddled his thighs, aligning yourself easily and rubbing his tip in between your soaked folds, moaning at the contact, craving the way he filled you up in the way only he ever could.
Your synced gasps made your cunt clench around him as you lowered yourself slowly, until you bottomed out, until you could feel him deep in you, so deep that a small bump was formed in your abdomen, that you revelled at, that you wanted him to. You took his hand in yours and placed his palm on the spot, moaning at you started grinding on him leisurely.
"Feel that, my love? Feel how deep in me you are, how good you fill me up? I feel your cock in my guts, baby."
You felt the growl he released deep in your soul, its intensity leaving you breathless, and you allowed the feeling to overtake you, as the atmosphere in the room changed suddenly, and so did his demeanour. Your words snapped something in him, because his eyes darkened so much, you could barely see any discernable yellow in them anymore, and you barely registered the way he grabbed you roughly and flipped you until you were on your back, his cock still buried inside you. You gasped loudly at the way your body made contact with the ground and at his look, feral and untamed, and it would have scared you if it wasn't so fucking hot, so primal and raw, so erotic and so, so necessary. His hand wrapped around your throat and squeezed until there was no air in your lungs anymore, until your head went dizzy, until your insides churned in need.
"You make me fucking crazy. How did I go so long without your tight little cunt wrapped around my cock, huh?"
Without warning, he starts a ruthless pace, knocking you back with every animalistic thrust, keeping you in place roughly by your throat, until your cervix was battered and bruised, until you came around him once, twice, three times. You were crying from overstimulation, from the high of the intermittent asphyxiation, from how his brutal actions were antithetic to his gentle caress of your cheek or the occasional peck on the forehead in between orgasms.
"Neteyam, I can't anymore -"
"Yes, you can, my love. One more. Just one more and then you can sleep. You're doing so well for me, baby."
He brought a hand to your thighs, bringing them over his shoulders and the new angle was allowing him to drag his cock on your G-spot repeatedly, making your vision blurry and your core throb yet again, the familiar feeling pooling in you once more, more acute than any of the previous. His thumb was circling your clit, and the pressure was too much, it was so good, it was heaven and hell, it was everything and not enough.
"There you go, baby, I can feel you squeezing my cock again. You gonna milk me? You gonna be a good girl and take my cum, let me fill this pretty pussy up? Gonna smell like me for a whole week, huh?"
"Y-yes, fuck yeah!"
"You like having my cum drip down your thighs for all the village to see, huh? Like everybody knowing you're getting fucked by the Olo'eyktan?"
Your eyes rolled in the back of your head at his words and you squirted all over your mate as the most intense orgasm you've ever had in your life washed over you, leaving you convulsing around him until your body was limp and your mind blank. He came with a moan, ropes of thick cum painting your pink walls and spilling down your ass and onto the fabric of your mat. He didn't pull out, not for a long time, collapsing on top of you instead, kissing your face and down your neck softly, like a whisper or warm hug. You loved how he was the best of both worlds, how he cherished you, how he always made sure you were ok, how he whispered sweet nothings in your ear, about how amazing you were, about how well you did for him, how you were his world and his brightest star, the love of his life, the best thing that has ever happened to him.
You were both spent and on the brink of sleep when you spoke serenely.
"So... did you only want to become Olo'eyktan so you can use that line on me or...?"
#༊*·˚ andra's works#neteyam#neteyam x human!reader#neteyam x reader#neteyam fanfic#neteyam reader#neteyam sully#avatar#avatar twow#avatar fanfic#neteyam x avatar!reader#neteyam sully fanfiction#neteyam angst#awow#awow neteyam#neteyam smut#neteyam x y/n#avatar way of water#neteyam x reader smut#neteyam x you#neteyam fluff#neteyam drabble#avatar drabble#avatar x reader
1K notes
·
View notes
Note
Hii!!
so I've recently stumbled upon one of your works that has been on my mind ever since, And i checked your profile to find taht the requests were open.. so don't mind if i do!
please could you write more Poly gun and goo x reader? If possible Could it be sfw & nsfw?
anyways thank you sm i love your blog!! Take care <3
❪ LOOKISM BOYS <3333333 ❫
❮ a cutie with two ferocious dogs ⟡ gaming number 2!
↳ gun and goo ii
https:strating.com! (sfw & nsfw)
Oh, they're dominant alright...
Dominant enough to make you feel submissive. The type of men to lead you, attentive and is protective of you
The thing is, they know how capable you are despite you're feminine self, but they remain stubborn and still protect you
not because they see you as "weak" no, no, anything but that! They do it because you're THEIR woman, their babygirl!!!! <3
It's as if both of their minds think alike when it comes to you despite how different they are as a person, if you look closely, you can almost see a more different side of them
The more human side
You actually have a lot of privilege than you think
Gun and Goo both have walls so high no one could achieve it for so many years, until you appeared in their lives, and you broke it down inch by inch until you finally saw them for who they truly are
Corny, i know
Gun is a dedicated man, has a reputation to uphold, stoic and emotionless--Wait! Wait! Is that Gun? With his sweetheart? Watching Barbie? And him wearing pink!? And makeup?!?!
He teaches you Japanese!
Often times he takes advantage of your lack of knowledge with Japanese by speaking to you in his language, secretly using it as a way to be more sentimental and romantic with you
"I love you... Y/n." "Can you repeat what you said? I'll translate it--" "It's nothing." *Kisses you on the forehead before leaving*
Gun is the type to read novels in his free time, HE MUST BE!
Has definitely annotated a book before and slipped it under your bed as a gift while you were sleeping, showing his comments, qoutes highlighted--Ugh, he'd definitely do it for you
Very attentive!!! When you lean down, he puts his hand on the corner of the table so it wouldn't hit you! When you sneeze, he's quick to pull a tissue and hand it to you while talking to someone in front of him
Now, Goo... He's definitely easygoing towards the relationship
Anything you both want, he's game, fr fr
He's the one who cooks for the three of you most of the time, once called you his "Cute little chef" when you decided to help him at the kitchen
If you're the type of sweetheart to vape or smoke--Nope! Now you're not! He'll throw your cigs away the moment he sees it and gives you a scolding while coddling you in his strong arms
"Sugarbunch! You shouldn't be smoking, it's bad for you!" *Pouts as he whines about how bad it'll affect you*
A teaser at it's finest!
Will tease you until the end, but if someone else does it, he's already readying his knuckles for charging, plus with his menacing glare
has slow danced to you at least once when he was feeling romantic at the time, where he's surprisingly quiet as he merely basks in the soft melody from the tv, and your warm presence
UGH, DONT EVEN GET ME STARTED ON THE MONEY PART
money, money, money
Gun and Goo have many love languages, but I suppose one thing in common is: GIFT GIVING!
You look, they pay. You touch, they pay. You smile, they pay.
That's it. They don't think too much about how much money of theirs you spend, they can make twice the amount in a week.
Besides, how could they say no to you?
nsfw part (not very detailed, but do be cautious, ps: I'm still new at writing smut sorry jehrbferfe)
They're big. That's it.
Gun and Goo have tremendous amount of work, so at the end of the day, you'd expect rounds of sex the moment they open the door surprisingly quiet
They've fucked you separately most of the time, but gets horny at the thought of fucking you at the same time (which does happen actually)
Sex with Gun is intimate and passionately rough
He holds you possessively as he ruts into you once again for the umpteenth time, eyeing your luscious curves while you whimper at the sensitivity inside of you
"I've fucked you many times... Yet, you still don't seem to get used to it."
His cock is big, who could blame you?
Gun's a genius at making you feel good, wether it's the words he use, or just from his actions--He'd lower his lips close to your ears and speaks to you in a breathy manner, seemingly unfazed at the way you clutch on to his arms for dear life
Hidden praises and faux degradation, you couldn't tell what he would be using, but both styles have definitely made you sigh in pleasure
"Can't you see how much of a slut you look like right now? Heh, keep whining and see where that gets you." "Just like that, hah... Attagirl."
Goo's open to explore new kinks and positions, so expect a box of toys in front of you the moment he locks the bedroom door
Might be into voyeurism... He's a risky guy, after all
Leans more into praises, yet degrades you for a minute just for fun
He's fucked you most of the time through bdsm, but Goo is still a romantic, he'd like rose petals on the floor, low music, and just have a good time
Quite vocal unlike Gun--Who mostly groans--and begins to get louder the more close he gets to his high
"Fuck, you're such a good girl for me, yeah? You're close aren't ya? I know you are, I can feel you down there--Agh~" "'Wonder what Gun thinks if I send him a pic of you looking like a complete whore, ugh baby you're so fucking cute like this!"
#lookism#lookism headcanons#lookism hc#lookism x y/n#lookism x reader#lookism x you#lookism manhwa#lookism webtoon#goo kim x reader#gun park x reader#gun x reader#gun park x you#gun x you#goo x you#poly relationship#lookism imagines#lookism joongoo
180 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hey!! I love ur jjk writing and I was wondering if I could ask for Geto! Some fluff with his s/o and instead of nobody noticing his struggle, his s/o does and helps him though his hard time and then we never get a KFC heartbreak 😀 anyways thanks sm for all ur works they are great!
tysm anon and i love this idea sm!! hope i did it justice!! 🩷
warnings: angst to fluff, geto is my roman empire, geto deserves the world sorry!
there’s something off with your boyfriend and it’s bothering you.
over the past few weeks, your usually loving and caring boyfriend has become more distant and subdued. he’s still affectionate but you can tell it lacks the same loving sentiment that it once had. it’s like hes doing it out of obligation, not love. you’ve asked shoko and gojo but it seems like they haven’t noticed anything either, which makes you feel like you’re overthinking this, but there’s something that keeps telling you that whatever geto is going through is much more worse than being in a bad funk.
he barely talks to you anymore, often replying in grunts or little notes he sticks around the place, he barely eats and the signs of it are evident, his uniform being less flattering and his face becoming more gaunt. when you try to raise your concerns, he dismisses them instantly, often saying something along the lines of ‘im fine’ and ‘I’m not even that hungry anyways’ whilst kissing your cheeks as if that is supposed to calm down your anxieties about him. you’re currently losing the man you love right now, watching him waste away in front of you, while the world looks on.
you currently feel like you live in two separate worlds from each other, despite you both being in each other’s spaces all the time. it’s driving you insane how estranged you’ve become these past weeks, it’s like you’re living with a stranger. until one night you finally decide to bite the bullet.
“suguru, we need to talk.” you pat the space next to you, inviting him to join you on the couch. he does so reluctantly, taking a deep breath as he does so. “yes my love?” he says, playing with a loose string of clothing on your shirt.
“are you okay?” you finally ask. he stills for a moment and you’re hoping that he doesn’t take it the wrong way and shut you out of his life. geto’s shoulders finally relax as a strangled sob escapes his lips, “i watched her die right in front of me, y/n.” he puts his head in his hands as he tries to collect himself. “every time i close my eyes i see that moment—it was my job to protect her and i failed, y/n!”
“it’s never was and it will never be your fault, you’re just a kid.” you pull him into a hug, gently stroking his hair. geto crumbles under your touch and for the first time in weeks, all the dark thoughts racing through his head come to a standstill. it seems that the grief and anguish that came with losing riko renders him speechless, as he cries in your arms for what seems like hours. “you did what you could and that is enough.” you gently reassure him.
eventually he pulls away, eyes puffy and bloodshot from crying. “‘m sorry.” he murmurs, wiping his tears away. “i didn’t mean to mess up your shirt.” you take his hands into yours, looking into his eyes. “thats the least of my worries right now, i worry about you suguru, you don’t sleep or eat and it terrifies me that one day i’ll wake up and you’ll be—” ,you blink rapidly trying to stop your tears from falling, “gone.”
suguru’s heart lurches at the thought of that, of him being gone and you being left to pick up the pieces all on your own. so he wills himself to try—for his sake and your own, and so he does because he stupidly realises that is what love is about, the constant support and love that you’ll always have for one another which never wavers, no matter how many times be tried to keep you at arms length in order to protect you.
so he lets you wash his hair, his hair tangled and matted from weeks of not washing it, he lets you feed him, despite his protests. the intimacy of it all makes him realise how lucky he is to have someone like you in his life, that makes the unbearable days much more bearable.
and for first time in weeks, suguru geto goes to bed as a somewhat happy man.
#anon i hope i did this justice#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#geto suguru x reader#geto x reader#geto x you#geto x yn#geto suguru#geto fluff#all he needed was love yall!#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#jjk imagines#vina writes#vina writes: jjk#getou suguru#geto is my roman empire#songs for vi!
271 notes
·
View notes
Text
Jack Kelly wasn't a family guy, but he always wished he was. Not that he didn't believe that the newsies were his family, because they were. Just not in the way that he would've liked. Jack found often found himself needing a hug, some encouraging words after a long day at work, or even just a pat on the back. But he never received them. Not from the newsies, no. He was always the one offering, but he never received.
Not until he met David Jacobs. His first interaction with Dave's family had been slightly awkward. He observed as the family worked around each other, how they seemed to understand each other perfectly. It was as if Jack hadn't even been there. Never one to overstay his welcome, and not one to stay in a situation he felt out of place in, Jack left the second the opportunity came about.
The second time he was around the family, he felt much more incorporated. Esther bossed him around as if he were her own, and Mayer gave him the long-awaited fatherly pat on the back as he told Jack he was 'welcome to stay anytime.'
They took quickly to Jack; they insisted he came over during every holiday and there was never a day he visited that he didn't also stay the night. Soon enough, they were sending him daily lunches and attempting to enroll him in classes at David's school. And although Jack kindly denied the classes, he appreciated the sentiment more than he could express. He was never one who enjoyed being fawned over, but the feeling of familial love had started to change his mind on that fact.
After David and Jack's first fight (the first one post-strike), the latter was ruined. He felt as if he had no-one to turn to. Esther and Mayer had been there for him at every instance since he had met David. It didn't feel right to now talk to them.
Jack didn't know who to talk to, or where to go. He found himself wandering the streets. Beating himself up and wallowing in some form of self-pity. He hadn't even realized they had been in a fight until David had stormed off and told Jack to never speak to him again. It made the boy sick to imagine a life without the Jacob's family.
Santa Fe came to mind. All Jack had to do was run away and pretend like these people had never existed. And he almost did it too. Tears stained his red cheeks and his head pounded from how many times he had hit himself with his palm. Stupid, stupid, stupid, chanted aloud with each smack.
But as Jack counted his money and planned his escape to Santa Fe, a gentle hand grabbed his own. Through teary eyes, he looked up to see Esther smiling softly down out him. She kneeled down next to him and wiped at the child's cheek. "Oh, poor boy. Are you alright?"
"Don't need to do me more charity, Mrs. Jacobs." Jack replied coldly. "Dave already told me where I stand with your family."
Esther shook her head. "David gets passionate about things sometimes. You should know that best. You did lead a strike with him after all."
"Well, I guess I don't know 'im as well as I thought."
"Listen, Jack." Esther started, gently. "You're family now. Family doesn't abandon family. Do you think Mayer and I were entirely thrilled when David came home on his second day of work and told us he was involved in a strike?"
"... I 'spose not."
"But we backed him up anyways. No matter how scared we were. Now, family's fight. I mean, Sarah and David fight all the time! I mean obviously you and David had a different..." Esther paused, contemplating her words. "Relationship than them. But that doesn't mean that you two can just have one fight and never speak to each other again." She pushed Jack's hair back lovingly and rubbed his cheek. "Now let's get you up to the house and get this all figured out."
And just like that, Santa Fe had disappeared deep into the back of his mind. All it took was Esther's soothing voice and the caring touch of her hand.
#me after i write something that only makessense to me#didnt even edit this#sorry guys this is just me yappin!!!!!#newises#92sies#newsies 1992#jack kelly#david jacobs#javid
24 notes
·
View notes
Text
long hair & tattoos (bill weasley & reader) (14/15)
CHAPTER DIRECTORY
CHAPTER 14: Aided by two drinks too many, you dig into Bill's heart to gauge how he feels about something you've been thinking about - matrimony and who he'd favour for it . 5.1k words.
TAG LIST moved to the bottom! Let me know if you'd like to be tagged or if I've missed you.
A/N: How... did we get here already. I feel like the last chapter is going to be dialogue-heavy to tie up all the loose ends so this one was good practice. Thank you everyone for reading, and leaving a comment! Seriously makes my day to get a notif during work with a comment of someone stumbling onto this baby I've nestled since February.
"Hush, I know they said the end is near. I'm still on my tallest tiptoes, spinning in my highest heels, love, shining just for you."
CHAPTER 14: MATTERS OF MATRIMONY (A MILE AWAY)
In a room full of family, one thing rang true: Malfoys, in addition to perpetual winners and never-criers, were also functional drunks. Malfoys weren’t slobbery, embarrassing drunks, but very truthful and sentimental drunks. Phrases like “Rosie, I’m glad you chose a different designer because you looked very much like an expensive cream puff at last year’s wedding” flowed like water. Anyway, it turned out that, through lineage, you were no exception to the rule.
Your current state was punctuated by the wine that never stopped flowing the rest of the night. In fact, there were enchantments to keep your glasses full of the best wine your Uncle Theodore’s money could buy and pay the caterer. Every time the meniscus on the crystal glass dipped too low, your cup magically rose to where it should’ve been had it never touched your lips. And it was a shame it went like honey down your throat.
“Have you done the math, Bill?” You pointed to the 600-galleon bottle of Petrus on display at the centre table. Bill shook his head, so you explained. “It works out to 150 galleons per glass, 30 galleons a sip.”
“Have you just done the calculation?” he asked. “It’s impressive if you did.”
“As kids, practicing arithmetic,” you stopped and corrected yourself, “not drinking it that young, of course. Just doing the math.”
As the night progressed, things got hazier and hazier. It felt nice to finally let loose, say things unabashedly and without the muzzle that was a social filter. You were always on the lookout for Bill, who was sometimes beside you but otherwise preoccupied talking to your father or some other family members. You even congratulated Genevieve who told you she was grateful you were here. To be fair, it wasn’t you or her talking—it was the alcohol that spurred the camaraderie. You met Maxime, though his features were all blurring into one tall, blonde blob and you didn’t even remember what you’d said, but he was pleasant.
At this current point in time, the fairy lights up ahead were beginning to look like a blur, like you’d permanently crossed your eyes. You were twirling Charlotte—or was it Clara?—around to the music on the slope of land overlooking the sea. They weren’t twins, just born two years apart, but they looked very much alike. There was less people on the floor than before, and you were betting on staying here until your youngest cousins were swept by Aunt Rosamund.
“To be young again!” you exclaimed, watching your youngest cousin nimbly twirl on the floor.
“You’re only six years older than me!” Charlotte or Clara retorted with a shake of her head, her wild blonde hair flapping about.
“I pray you never reach my age,” you said. “There’s so much shit to think about and it’s bloody confusing.”
“What’s there to think about?” she questioned earnestly.
“Just wait until you reach my age,” said a voice.
You spun around and came face-to-face with a familiar chest. “Bill!” you exclaimed, a warm tingle arising in your chest, and fell towards him. He caught you by the hands. You looked up at him with a lopsided smile. “Where’ve you been?”
“Looking for you. Thought it was easier with the thinning crowds.”
“Where is everyone?” You looked around, your hand still firmly in his hand. “Draco, Astoria, mum, dad?”
“They went home.”
“Without me?” you gasped dramatically.
“They said you were having too much fun, so I was tasked to bring you back safe and sound,” Bill said. Then he raised an arm and prompted you to twirl around. “That is, unless you want to dance the rest of the night away.”
“Is it that time already?” you asked, facing him again when you’d finished spinning. “Then I think it’s best to leave before we’re the last ones here.”
“Alright,” he agreed. “There’s a carriage down the steps waiting for us.”
“Bye, sweet, dear, cousin of mine.” You embraced who you realized was Clara. She was a little more reserved of the two and asked less invasive questions.
“Bye, (Y/N),” she responded in a whisper, her hands lightly pressed on your back. “I hope it’s your wedding I go to next. I’m sure you’ll have a much better dance floor.”
“We’ll dance until the next morning,” you promised.
Then you skittered to keep up with Bill, leaving the faint chatter and last round of drinks behind you. You began descending the stone steps, leading to the shore where your carriage would be parked. It would’ve been completely dark if it weren’t for the dainty little lamps in the flowery bushes providing light. This, along with your impacted coordination, made you prone to tumbling down and face planting on the cement. Hence, you were very cautious with your steps. It was hard though, because your high heels had progressively blistered your feet throughout the night, and your heels felt like they were on fire.
Bill noticed your awkward gait and stopped on the step in front of you. “You’re going to break an ankle,” he remarked.
“My feet hurt,” you whined. “I very much abhor these shoes.” And then came the first flow of liquid courage. “I only wore them because you’re so tall.”
Bill laughed, then crouched down slightly and patted his thighs. “I’ll take you down the steps.”
Your eyes lit up. You couldn’t pass up a free ride. “Really?”
“If you broke an ankle, I’d have failed my task of getting you home safely.”
“Say no more, I’m already convinced.”
You looped your arms around his shoulders and jumped up on his back. Bill’s hands were securely holding onto the back of your thighs. He felt sturdy and infallible. You adjusted yourself to get comfortable—which included happily planting your chin on his shoulders and burying your nose in his soft hair. You accidentally let out an happy groan as you nestled in.
“Did you have a pleasant night?” you asked as he began moving.
“Of course.”
You stroked the material of his suit jacket and murmured in appraisal, “My changed man of a father actually did a fair job with you. I would’ve chosen the same thing for you.”
“I suppose a wedding’s a very special event,” Bill responded.
“Have you been to a lot of weddings?”
“Yes,” he said. “I have a lot of extended family. There’s at least four weddings a year.”
“I feel like Genevieve is going to pave the way for a slew of cousin marriages,” you said. “Claude next, then Draco, then probably Charlotte then Clara.”
“And where are you in this?” Bill asked.
“I’ll end up last. I’ll be a haggard old witch by the time a man gets on his knee for me, only because we’d both be dying and he can’t stand anymore,” you said with a self-deprecating laugh. You poked your head at Bill, nose just inches away from his cheek. “Have you ever thought of getting married?” you queried, then quickly added: “Don’t these kinds of events make you wish for it?”
Bill paused for a moment, his body stiffening and the corner of his lip tightening slightly. “I think about it more often that I’m older, but I can’t be rushed into it.”
You cocked your head. “Who’s rushing you?”
“The same person who’s rushing you.”
“Narcissa is rushing you?” you purposely misinterpreted with a snicker. “Did she sit you down and give you the talk in the middle of a busy café?”
You smiled when you heard the sweet notes of Bill’s laughter joining yours in harmony. “No, it’s Molly.”
“I can see that,” you hummed. Molly was very motherly, and her wanting to dote on her grandchildren was very in-character for her.
“Mum’s always on my back, too, heckling me to get married,” Bill said, “because my younger brothers have partners, and I’m apparently too old to be single anymore.”
“That’s not true,” you argued. “You have plenty of time. You’re a man. You’re blessed with an infinite reproductive mechanism.”
“Tell that to my mum.” Bill inhaled deeply and pitched his voice up to sound like a Howler. Fred and George got a ton of them back in school. “William Weasley!”
The shrillness of his voice stirred some critters in the trees. After thirty years alongside his mother, Bill naturally did an amazing impression of Molly. You nearly snorted before breaking into a braying laugh. It was nearly midnight but you could’ve cared less about the noise you were making.
Bill continued to flaunt his theatrical talents, limited to his voice and animated facial expressions because his hands were preoccupied supporting you on his back. “Arthur and I will be in wheelchairs by the time you have a wife, nevertheless a child! We want to be present for our grandchildren. We want to visit you and your wife at St. Mungos when it happens, not to already be patients there.”
You giggled. “At least you didn’t get the talk about your eggs shrivelling up. It’s quite the nasty thought, isn’t it?” Then, you wondered aloud, “How does your dad go about it?”
“He’s indifferent but he just gets roped in. Mum will comment about how it would be nice to have a grandchild and dad will just sit there and agree.”
You could imagine that scene perfectly. Bill, walking into the kitchen innocently, trying to fix himself some tea and a sandwich, and Molly remarking how quiet and child-less it was in the house. “Does she hound your brothers, too?”
“Not at all,” Bill responded with a sigh. “Fred could marry a Hippogriff and she would be overjoyed that he at least married someone… or something. It’s me who has to get it perfectly right.”
“It’s unjust. All the expectations seem to fall on our shoulders, doesn’t it?” you commented.
“When Fred and George dropped out of school, mum was only livid for a week before she accepted the circumstances. I don’t reckon I’d have gotten the same treatment,” he continued. “The curse of being the eldest child.”
“You’re the only one who understands, Bill,” you added. “I’m the one who takes the brunt of Draco’s crap.”
“Do you?” Bill mused. “Funny, he did mention something about that.”
“He was talking about me?” you gasped, your fingers tightening their hold on his shoulders.
“They weren’t awful things,” Bill assured.
In the silence that lapsed, you were feeling braver than usual. Alcohol had a funny way of working. You found it ironic that people referred to it as liquid courage, because liquid was easily tampered with. You preferred to think of it more like armour—heavy, study. Regardless, alcohol unlocked a trove of questions that you kept buried in the deepest confinements of your heart, because you never had the nerve to ask when you were sober.
There were real repercussions, real chances of irreversible damage, especially if you were to ask: “Weren’t you involved with someone before you came back to England?”
“For a little bit, yeah”
You frowned slightly. Bill didn’t catch this as he was focused on getting down the steps with dropping to both of you. Admittedly, you were jealous that someone out there got to experience loving Bill Weasley, got to hear him tell them ‘I love you’ back, and forming a spoken and physical connection with him. The hope of that was slipping through your fingers every hour that ticked down to tomorrow’s departure.
“Why did it end?” you prodded.
“We just weren’t right for each other. It happens.” Bill shrugged, his shoulders rising and prompting your shoulders to graze his jaw. “Ended on good terms.”
“Was it that woman at the bank?”
Bill paused in thought and turned around to look at you. “What woman?”
“The tall blonde one that you kissed on the cheeks.” You tapped him where the shadow fell from his structured cheekbone twice. “Did you fancy her?”
Bill laughed, maintaining eye contact, and your face turned redder than they’ve ever been. The invincible armour from the alcohol faltered momentarily and you felt hot shame for asking.
“No, that’s Fleur Delacour,” he explained. “She’s the global liaison for Gringotts. She’s been trying to recruit me to our sister branches across Europe.”
“Oh.” Well, you felt like an absolute fool.
“What would make you think that now, (Y/N)?” he teased.
“You just looked close.” You quickly tried to reroute the conversation, not wanting to talk about how hopeless you felt when you thought they were together. Besides, you wanted to know less about her and more about how Bill felt about matrimony. “I bet Molly would want you to get married to someone like Fleur.”
“There’s no chance of it,” Bill deflected with a laugh. “They’ve got to be the right person for me, not my mum. Otherwise, it’ll be Molly waiting at the altar in a suit.”
You stifled a laugh and looked up. You were blanketed by a starry sky, the moon arched so perfectly in the sky. There was no better night to get everything off your chest. And just like that, your liquid courage solidified again. “What’s the right person for you?” you asked, your heart beating like a hummingbird against Bill’s strong body.
“Are we still rehearsing?” he asked with a low chuckle. The ripples from his voice vibrated pleasantly against your own chest.
“No.” You felt your face grow hot again and you attempted to hide it in the crook of Bill’s neck. “I’m just curious.”
“It’s not complicated,” he said with a shrug.
“What’s complicated?” you asked hotly. You shook his shoulders. “You’re complicated, Bill! Answer my question, it’s not a riddle.”
“Isn’t someone demanding tonight?” he commented, voice thick with amusement.
“I have a right to know!” you countered, lightly smacking his chest. You were steadfast in your line of questioning.
Bill sputtered and cowered a little. “And exactly what right is that? Is there a written decree somewhere? Did we sign on anything? Because I’d never sign my name without reading every line of the contract and in-between them, too.”
You conceded. “Bill, I admit I have no good answer to that,” you said nonsensically, your brain too fuzzy to even try to formulate something reasonable or witty.
“A fair enough answer.” He hoisted you back up when he felt you slumping down. “I suppose a kind woman who cares about her family and mine. I told you, not complicated.” He turned his head back to look at you, the twinkling lights reflecting in his blue eyes. “Satisfied now, (Y/N)?”
You incoherently murmured a soft ‘no’, the words lost in your breath. Bill’s words were buzzing in your mind and you were trying to frantically mould yourself into his criteria. Were you kind enough? Did you care about your family enough? Did you care about his family enough? Percy’s words replayed in your mind and a bubble swelled up in throat: clearly, you didn’t care enough about them if you strung him and his family along in your selfish scheme.
You curled your fists and squeezed them until your fingernails made red crescents on your palm. You had to ask, all whilst praying he’d forget you’d asked tomorrow: “Have you met the right person?”
A few seconds of silence passed before he responded, “That’s a secret.”
“We don’t keep secrets between us,” you moaned in a half-whine. You continued without any direction. “What if someone asks?”
“I reckon we’ve thoroughly convinced everyone so there’s no need to ask anymore,” Bill reasoned. He chuckled as he descended the last step with a hop. You looked up to find a carriage in front of you, wheels flush with the edges of the white boardwalk. There was a driver leaning on the vehicle’s front door wordlessly with a cigarette in between his fingers.
You hated that Bill was right. There was no one left to convince. But if this was your initial objective, then why were you wishing there was more to be done? More clandestine meetings, more planning for a future that was now only half-fiction and half-hope, and most importantly, more time spent together.
Bill helped you up the steps to the seats. You tucked yourself in the corner while Bill made small talk with the driver, whose French accent was as thick as the thoughts in your mind. The carriage sped through the empty promenade. You remained silent though you had only a million more questions to ask Bill. Secretly, you were hoping one of them would lead him to say, ‘you’re the right person for me, (Y/N)’ and there’d be nothing left to ask of him. Instead, you reclined on the soft headrest and watched the dark waves rocking onto the cobbled shore, the sparse amount of boats in the water, and late-night stragglers speeding by you. Occasionally, your glance flittered to Bill’s hand resting on the seat beside you, wishing so badly to hold those fingers again.
When you arrived at the entrance of the villa, the driver and carriage disappeared into the thick of the night. You kicked off your shoes on the front steps and carried them up the stairs to your room. It was eerily quiet inside as everyone had gone to sleep. After you’d undressed and wiped your face of any residue in the washroom, you clambered on the bed, head pounding and limbs unsteady. Bill, as if reading your mind, went to the washroom and came back out with two glasses of water.
“Here.” Bill sat on the edge of bed beside you and held one glass to you. “Drink. It’ll make you feel better tomorrow.”
You accepted his offering and chugged the cold liquid like no tomorrow. You’d drink the entire sea here if the French Minister of Magic allowed it.
“Why doesn’t it fill up immediately like the wine did?” you complained, eyeing at the bottom of the glass when water stopped pouring down your throat. Bill let out a throaty chuckle and took your empty glass.
“You just ask, and I’ll refill it for you.”
“Even at three a.m.?” you asked.
“Anytime,” he affirmed.
He left his full glass on the nightstand for you and took the empty one in his hands. When you heard a small creak and the bed get lighter, you called out.
“Bill?”
You peered at him through half-lidded eyes at his strong back and the light from the washroom filtering past his form.
“Yes, (Y/N)?”
‘Stay,’ you wanted to plead. ‘Stay with me.’
You reached out and gestured for him to come closer to you. He obliged. Apprehensively, you wrapped your arms around him, fingers shyly grazing his back, and whispered, “Thank you, you’re—”
Bill remained quiet as you tried to get the words out, but sleep was grappling for you, its treacherous hands reaching out to pull you to slumber. You, however, didn’t want to fall asleep, not knowing there were only twelve more hours to make things right.
“So—”
Your efforts were futile; you were falling in and out of consciousness quickly.
“Good—”
The last two words died on your lips. ‘You’re so good to me’, you wanted to say. In your half-lucid state, you were sure you felt Bill rest his chin on your head, and his hands gently rubbing circles on the small of your back.
“Anytime,” you thought you heard him confirm.
Before you could ask him to repeat himself, you were sound asleep. You recently developed an uncanny habit of falling asleep in inconvenient places. You didn’t think Bill’s arms would be one of them, but were you ever glad they were.
The next morning, you’d woken up with just a slight headache and a hankering for a full, greasy English breakfast. Instead, you just stood on the balcony, letting the sun kiss your skin all over and watching the waves crash onto the shore.
“I’m going to miss it here,” you mumbled to Bill who was standing behind you with your luggage.
“You’ll be back before you know it,” he said.
“I know,” you sighed heavily and turned to face him, “but I always hate going back to life as it was.”
‘As it was meaning,’ you clarified to yourself. ‘Without you, without this.’
“(Y/N),” he called, ready to confer knowledge. “Your life is up to you. It doesn’t have be a loop if you let it.”
Whatever Bill said, it didn’t matter. In your opinion, summer always ended when the trip to France ended. In the two weeks you were gone, the weather in England had either taken a downward dip in temperature, or it was just unimpressive compared to the French Riviera. The English weather was a parody of itself; it boasted grey skies and looming end-of-summer thunder today just as a private welcome-back party for you. Instead of turquoise beaches and palm trees, you only had rotting and overflowing gutters and thinning trees in the parks to look forward to.
You stopped briefly to say goodbye to your family at Malfoy Manor. You and Bill left right after, supposedly going home to the penthouse together. You walked mainly in silence. Every second that passed was tortuous, because you knew you were counting down to the end of everything. Last night, you had twelve hours, now you only had twelve minutes. Eventually, you arrived at the intersection between Diagon Alley and Knockturn Alley. You treaded down the slope towards the bustling shopping street and continued walking until you were at the entrance of the flat. There, Bill laid your suitcase by the swinging doors and kept his own in his hands.
“Thank you,” you said, referring to the luggage. “And for coming with me.”
“My pleasure, (Y/N),” he responded. “Thank you for having me. The French Riviera is indeed as beautiful as the books say it is.”
Any other words were lodged in your throat, so you waited.
A large drop of rain splattered on your face, the start of more precipitation to come.
You waited.
The amassed rain poured down the sewer like the last shred of hope you held onto, spiralling into darkness, like a buoy pulling on your heart.
You waited.
Finally, Bill spoke. He held up a hand, his main and middle finger slightly bent. “I’ll see you around.”
You’d be lying if you said that was what you wanted to hear.
With that, he apparated away.
You stared at the spot where Bill stood and at the imprint he made with his loafers in the grass. Like the hot, summer days, he’d disappeared as fast as he’d came, leaving the last few months nothing more than a memory and a canyon of deep regret that you would’ve made more out of it—slept in less, stayed up later. Should you be glad you never admitted your feelings to Bill? Because his abrupt goodbye wasn’t conducive to him asking you to rekindle where you’d left off.
Dejected, you let out a long sigh and picked up your suitcase. You unlocked the door to Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes and lugged your stuff back upstairs to your dusty sliver of a room.
As if you needed anymore reminders besides the weather that the summer was over, the joke shop received a new wave of customers: young wizards and their parents perusing Diagon Alley on their annual back-to-school trip. Work was equally mundane and quiet, and you would slump on your office desk, quill in hand, crossing off all the days you’d gone without talking to Bill.
August 23th: I guess we said goodbye in Diagon Alley, so that counts as something.
August 24: He’s probably unpacking.
August 25th: It takes a day or two to settle in.
August 26th: Nothing.
August 27th: He could be catching up with work.
August 28th: I sneezed twice today, so maybe he’s thinking about me.
August 29th: Nothing.
On Saturday, you stayed at home, battling your own thoughts from the comfort of your couch. The sun was out for a last hurrah and it was beautiful outside, but you just wanted to take refuge at home.
“(Y/N)?”
George crouched on the floor and waved his fingers in front of your face. Your eyes were still focussed on the radio metres in the background, your magazine hanging precariously from your fingers.
“(Y/N)?” he tried again. “Did you hear me?”
“Yes, George?” You finally acknowledged him by slapping your magazine on the leather couch.
“Firstly, since when were you interested in Flourish and Blott’s quill catalogue?” He stared at the discarded magazine on the couch. “Secondly, what happened in France?”
“Nothing,” you responded a little more maliciously than you would’ve liked. “Why do you ask?”
“Because I got an O—for outstanding, if you remember—in human empathy back in school and I just know you’re not as chipper as you were before you left,” he responded matter-of-factly. “Did something happen there?”
“No,” you sighed, “I just…” You trailed off and crinkled your eyebrows, trying to figure out what you missed. Maybe it was seasonal depression, and you were muddling Bill with the tropical weather in Nice. It was definitely easier to not say anything and figure it out yourself. “George, would you like to come to the beach with me?”
“Sure?” he responded quizzically. “Since when did you go to the beach in England? Who are you?”
When he noticed you glowering at him, he shut up. “Prime time for it right now,” he said instead. “I’ll get my stuff.”
You wanted to go to the beach to feel a spark, to regain what you lost when you came home. You prayed that Bill was just a supporting act in the play that were your melancholy feelings.
After a short ride on the tram, you hopped off right at the entrance and walked onto the lukewarm sand with George, approaching the water from the west. The sun in England was so weak compared to the brilliant rays you soaked up in Nice. There were bodies of young females splayed out on the sand, but you would bet your life savings they’d never tan as easily as you did. Your mouth tightened when twigs and seaweed washed up on the green shore.
“Well?” George asked, staring at the water that creeped towards his feet. “Did you want to swim or something?”
“I’m not sure.” You experimentally dipped a finger in. The water felt slimy and you immediately grimaced. “Not really.”
George raised an eyebrow in bewilderment. “Then why’d you come to the beach?”
“I don’t know.” You retracted your finger and lied through your teeth. “I miss being right by the water, I guess. It’s awful to have to take the tram here and have it,” you gestured out to the desolate space, “look like this.”
“You’ll go again next year,” George assured. “With me, though.”
“Why with you?”
You almost laughed at the irony of your question. When your mother propositioned you for the trip, you’d almost forgotten about asking Bill. You recalled Fred’s shocked face as he held the parchment and him asking you if you’d lost your mind. Now, all you could think of was inviting Bill and spending another August with him.
“Because,” George drew in a deep breath, almost like he didn’t want to unfurl the next words on his tongue, “Bill is going back to Egypt.”
You couldn’t control the startled look on your face. George just looked at you, oblivious that his words sent a shockwave of hurt through your heart. You needed a few moments to process this new piece of information and any semblance of a response was lost on your lips. It made no sense. Bill hadn’t mentioned Egypt at all throughout the summer, he looked ready to stay put. But again, he also hadn’t made plans with you for after the summer. You supposed you weren’t an important piece in the chessboard that was his future.
“Is he?” you choked out, grateful that the pale waves in front of you were washing out your bleak tone. “When?”
“September first, we’re having a farewell dinner tomorrow,” George responded, hands in pockets and standing so casually, like he wasn’t clenching your poor heart with his bare fists with every sentence he spoke. “He didn’t tell you?”
“Nope.” You fiddled with your hands and a thought came to you, eliciting a bitter chuckle. “We’re not really together, so why should he tell me?”
“Fake relationship or not,” George turned to you, “you should get your goodbyes in before he leaves, yeah?”
You stared out at the sea. Your lips pulled into a pout when you realized you only had tomorrow to catch him. Tomorrow was the last day of August.
“Yeah, I will.”
Your voice was full of conviction, but your will to confront impending heartbreak was faltering fast.
After your trip, you headed back to the flat. You were quiet on the tram, your eyes flittering from the streets of the shopping alley to George’s face. You studied it and compared it tirelessly to Bill’s. George had a sturdier face, Bill’s was more chiseled and elegant. George’s eyes favoured a warmer brown shade with a light dusting of hazel specks, but bore no trace of blue like Bill’s. George’s nose was more crooked, Bill’s was straight. Most importantly, George was staying in England, and Bill was going back to Egypt.
As your eyes ran from freckle to freckle, you wondered if you were going crazy, trying to compare the two because they were different people, but you just couldn’t stop thinking about Bill.
Later that night, when Fred returned, you were in a worse state than before.
“Welcome back to civilization, (Y/N),” Fred said as he sauntered through the doors. “How was France?”
“Great.”
“Are you coming to dinner tomorrow?”
“I’ll think about it.” You shrugged, but your face flushed with embarrassment. Why would you want to show up anyway? To say goodbye to Bill and pretend that him leaving didn’t affect you at all?
“What’s there to think about?” Fred remarked, grabbing a beer from the fridge and inching closer to your face. “Bill’ll be there, and we know how much you’d want to see him after a looooong week apart.”
Guess you weren’t the only one counting down the days.
You stared at Fred’s retreating figure and felt a wave of nausea overcome you. Maybe staying at the flat wasn’t a good idea after all. Fred and George were constant reminders of Bill—sharing his blood—and were trying not to think about him. Plus, they were so nonchalant about your feelings, acting like it was just a game. And at some point it was, but now they you knew your feelings for Bill were very real, it wasn’t a game anymore. Every joke or jest later that night was a thick needle prick to your heart and you couldn’t bear to tell them the truth.
You knew you had to get away, but just where you’d run off to was the question.
>> NEXT CHAPTER
<<CHAPTER DIRECTORY
TAGLIST: @inpraizeof @milkiane @lovesanimals0000 @alisslahey @milfodyssey @itscheybaby @lookingthroughmirrors @stiles-argent24@aki-ham @my-current-fandom-is @salvatoremuse @nimue-lady-of-the-lake @agathne @benbarnesismybaby@bangbaang @venus-d-vinyl @lexxxtacyyy @pink-hufflepuff @unicornicopia1@itsrhyann@awesomeowlbook @bamboozledflamplant @howpeculier @jaix-8102 @vilentia @sophneedsfandoms @dontbesuspiciousss @sugarrush-blush@actuallyade @thatgoodolswitcharoo @kakorrhaphiphobia @cigaretttes-aftersex @pandoraneverland @theluvcafe@eternally-ineffable @winterishfallinknowledge @tygecjjd
244 notes
·
View notes
Note
congrats on finishing capman reki (i assume)! uhhh... i don't really have a prompt but i was curious about your pushing daisies au idea for enstars so if you'd like, maybe you could write something about it? i dunno.
(on another note, i think tumblr really likes eating notifs on my rbs of your responses to my asks? i think there's a couple questions a while back in other rb chains that might've gone poof. maybe i'll just send asks more often if you're alright with it)
Tumblr does eat a lot of notifs so yeah probably, could also be that I didn't have anything to say. But always feel free to send another ask as long as my askbox is open!
Anyway, I actually HAD a thing written for pushing daisies au that I totally forgot I started so here it is kfjhsdfsd. My first thought for this was “rinne brings hiiro back to life and now he can never touch his brother again” but I thought that’d be too basic so instead I did this
“Duck!”
“Where?”
“No you idiot—Duck! Your brother is gonna walk in in five—”
Rinne dives behind the counter right before the bell chimes, signalling his brother’s entrance into the café. At the same time, Kohaku and Niki spin around to greet him.
“Good evening, Kohaku-san, Shiina-san!” comes Hiiro’s cheerful voice.
Niki’s smile only twitches a little, and he starts to say his usual “Welcome” when he’s cut off by Kohaku exclaiming, “Love-han?!”
“Kohakucchi,” says an unfamiliar, startled voice. “I didn’t know you worked in a café.”
“Oh, you two know each other?” says Hiiro.
“Yeah, we’re old friends!”
Rinne tilts his head up, as though he’d be able to look over the counter this way. Hiiro brought someone with him? Hiiro made a friend on his own? He squints up at Kohaku, noting the surprised yet pleased expression on his face. Whoever this person is, he must be something special. Rinne’s never seen that look on Kohaku’s face before. It makes him curious about what Hiiro looks like, too.
“Then I guess I only have to introduce you to Shiina-san!” Hiiro says. Rinne can practically hear the smile in his voice. “Shiina-san, this is my friend, Aira! Aira, this is Shiina Niki-san. He owns this café. Shiina-san and Kohaku-san knew my brother.”
“Shiratori Aira,” the friend, Aira, says. “Nice to meet you, Shiina-san!”
“You too,” Niki says. “How did you and Hiiro-kun meet?”
It suddenly becomes oddly silent. Niki’s professional smile falters.
“Aira picked me up after I… learned about Nii-san,” Hiiro says quietly. Rinne goes rigid. Niki’s eyes flicker downward, meeting his, before looking back up. “He helped me get back up. And now we’re roommates! He’s been teaching me a lot. I don’t know what I’d do without him.” There’s a bit of forced cheer in his tone, but the sentiment is real.
“I haven’t done that much, Hiro-kun…”
As the two begin a stupid debate over whether or not Aira has done a lot for Hiiro, Kohaku and Niki exchange glances. They don’t look down at where Rinne hides near their feet again, and he’s grateful for it. He doesn’t know what expression he’s wearing.
It’s incredible, in a way. Rinne was the one who left the village in search of something more, only to get himself killed. Hiiro left the village to chase after him, but he’s the one who’s been able to live. He decided to stay on his own instead of returning to the village, and now he has a friend and roommate. There are probably so many things he does outside of the café that he hasn’t talked about with Kohaku and Niki. Rinne… is glad. He’s so proud of him for getting this far, for being willing to step out of the absolute obedience of their village.
And all it took was for Rinne to run away and die.
“This is a lot of food for the two of you,” Niki is saying as Rinne starts to tune back in. At some point, they had moved on to ordering food.
“Aira and I are meeting some friends soon, so we’re getting food for them too,” Hiiro says. More friends. Rinne didn’t know.
“So you want this to go?”
“Yes please!”
“Alright, it’ll be ready soon.”
“Thank you!”
Rinne takes the time to crawl into the backroom as subtly as he can. Neither Niki nor Kohaku call him out on it. There's no use in getting upset now. He made his choice—and he doesn't regret a thing.
#you can decide who brought him back to life idk#in my mind soon after this aira finds out rinne is alive and starts to go insane#like olive in season 2#i dont know where himeru is in this scene but hes around in this au too. somewhere#enstars#rinne amagi#hiiro amagi#enstars lb#amagi rinne#amagi hiiro#asks#agried#prompt answers#drabbles#anya tries to write#fp.txt
8 notes
·
View notes
Text
Some soft Ronance headcanons 💕
No thoughts just ✨they✨
Nancy is kinda obsessed with stuffed animals. She doesn't have as many as she used to, but she still has a couple she likes to cuddle up with when she's anxious
Her favorite is a little bunny <3
Robin secretly names all of them and gives them silly voices so she can pretend to have conversations with them. Sometimes, to get Nancy's attention, Robin will pretend to gossip with one of them like "Isn't that girl over there just to die for? I wish we were friends..." and, in the most obnoxious voice Robin can muster, the stuffed animal will reply with something like "I know right? She's so dreamy"
Boy howdy does THAT get Nancy's attention, but she's so flustered she can't do much more than roll her eyes and shush Robin with a lil kiss (or a pillow to the face, if Robin's down on her luck that day)
After everything, Nancy has some bad paranoia. She's terrified what happened to Barb will happen to Robin
One time, when they're all hanging out at Steve's house, Robin wanders off for a while and Nancy just FREAKS. When she eventually finds Robin, petting a dog in the street or something, Nancy just starts crying
A Fruity Four therapy sesh promptly follows
In crowded or public spaces, Nancy likes touching Robin in some way to keep track of her: holding her hand, wrapping an arm around her shoulders/waist, or just reaching out periodically to make sure she hasn't wandered off
Nancy loves hugs. She's always surprising Robin with a hug from behind (though she makes sure to make plenty of noise before touching her, since Robin startles easy), or sticking her arms into Robin's jacket, around her waist, if she's cold or just wants some human contact
Robin can get overwhelmed and overstimulated sometimes and goes nonverbal. Nancy doesn't understand at first, and figures out the hard way that physical contact (Nancy's go-to method of comfort) is the exact opposite of what Robin needs right then
Afterwards, Nancy apologizes a LOT because Robin hasn't ever pushed her away like that before, and she's terrified she somehow did something to hurt Robin
They have a long chat about neurodivergence after that (autistic Robin Buckley yee haw)
Nancy's guilty pleasure is romance novels. Robin finds them yucky. Sometimes Robin will read to Nancy and intentionally make shit up until Nancy catches on (Robin's ideas are usually better than the ideas in the books anyway)
Pet names!!! Nancy likes gently admonishing Robin by calling her a dork, an idiot (affectionate), or other such words, always with a fond smile and maybe a kiss. Robin, on the other hand, calls Nancy really sappy names like darling and sweetheart, but in a way that's unmistakably (derogatory)
When Robin's feeling particularly sentimental, she'll say sweet things in one of the other languages she knows. Nancy's charmed and impressed in equal measure
Robin says 'I love you' first, but in French, so Nancy doesn't understand it (Robin has a whole-ass gay panic before she does too, but Nancy just looks at her with a sweet, unsuspecting smile, and Robin's like ;-;)
Nancy says it in English first tho
Robin spends a lot of time at Nancy's house, preferring it to her own. She'll wake up before everyone else and make them breakfast some days. She's good at breakfast, since it's her favorite meal, but keep her out of the kitchen after noon or she will wreck shit irreparably
Robin is blunt. REALLY blunt. Whatever she's feeling she'll say outright, even if she doesn't know how to articulate herself very well. Nancy finds this a little off-putting at first, but once she gets used to it, she actually kinda appreciates it. Open communication isn't something she's used to
Robin's enthusiasm for the little things in life is infectious. Nancy always feels livelier and more energized when she's around Robin, and the two can talk for hours about random things; Robin gets super invested in Nancy's news stories, and is a major source of inspiration and validation for Nancy
Robin has a tendency to apologize for things, especially for rambling or not comprehending what other people are saying, but Nancy helps her feel less guilty and to stop apologizing for things she can't control
Ronance and Steddie (or Steddissy) double-dates!! 'Nuff said
A pt. 2 is already in my drafts :>
#this is a bit of a chonker but oh well#robin buckley#nancy wheeler#ronance#eddie munson#steve harrington#stranger things#headcanons
208 notes
·
View notes
Text
woah…
WoAh…
WOAH !!!
one THOUSAND followers. are you guys insane. picture a thousand people in a room—a HOUSE right now. okay are we all envisioning it? fucking crazy right? THAT IS A LOT OF PEOPLE!! to follow little ol’ me🧌
thank you so much. i think the excitement will kick in later, but holy shit guys!
i love the way people are enjoying my works. if it gives you a moment of respite from your life, if it makes you happy, sad, angry, love lorn, laugh—whatever it is, i appreciate it. i appreciate all of you.
i made this account to just share the silly little thoughts i turn into stories and look. i’m building a little community from those ‘silly little thoughts’ !!
that is what i want us to be, and continue to grow into. a community! i am always sure to make my account a safe space for everyone. no matter your ethnicity, nationality, sexuality, gender, disability, etc. you are all welcome here and i will always try to be mindful to keep my work as inclusive as i can (unless stated otherwise!)
but p h e w this is so touching truly. i know that they are many writers out there with tens of thousands of followers, but i’m glad that you chose to stick around for me!🤎
yeah, not to get sentimental , but i’m doing this for you guys! i love talking to y’all. reading your messages, replying to your asks and comments. i’m telling you now, every time i see that i get a comment or a new message or an ask in my inbox i get so giddy because what?!?! you wanna talk to ME?!?!?!
*sobs and strikes king charles around the face*
sorry he had to catch a well deserved stray, anyways back to regularly scheduled programming.
there are so many of you chix in the coop, imma have to order a bigger one soon or else we are about to bust these walls down😅
thank you. with my whole heart. thank you for sticking by me and giving me a reason to make so many people smile!
lots and lots of love,
kae 🫧 x
#diddybok says thank you!#ONE THOUSAND FOLLOWERS#1000 followers#what a good day it is becoming#i mean it all#you guys are the best#— kae reaches a milestone🫧#stray kids
17 notes
·
View notes
Note
i'm so sorry but i cannot stop thinking abt rotten to the touch 😭 like what if reader from rotten to the touch hates music bc she refuses to partake in anything that could potentially lead her to enjoying herself or getting attached to anything. but the more she realizes she likes luke the more she finds herself listening to tunes abt love. she reluctantly listens to t swift by accident and is disgusted by how she's now thinking abt luke. she listens to first time by hozier after they kiss and she dreads the thought of luke calling her by her name bc it's gonna cause irreparable damage to her soul. i just-
OHHHH MY GOD. OH MY GOD. OH MY
i’m a big music person and i always take inspo from it when writing so i’ve already made a rotten to the touch playlist and HOW DID U KNOW HOZIER WAS ON THERE?? CAN SOME OF YOU READ MINDS
“she refuses to partake in anything that could potentially lead to her enjoying herself or getting attached to anything” are you inside my head.
she’s stubbornly avoided anything even remotely sentimental, anything that requires love and care, because she can’t fathom having those things herself. but luke just keeps seeking her out and talking about the things he likes and she just can’t help but wonder
luke talks about songs he loves….she listens to them out of curiosity….thinks of him the whole time… it is terrifying….she finds other songs anyways
and first time in particular UGHH
“before i heard it from your mouth my name would always hit my ears as such an awful sound”
she quite literally loathes when people perceive her but luke is the first person she desperately wants to see her (and make out with her but wbk) AND NOT TO MENTION
“when i was young i used to guess / are there limits to any emptiness? / when was the last time?”
they both feel endlessly empty but she realizes with luke maybe she doesn’t HAVE to feel like that all the time?? so many lines in this song are so them you see the vision
anyways i love them i love music i love this thought i cant wait to write more of them
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
Philrath Headcanon - As the Companions Come My PoV
So, after seeing many people doing this, I had the courage and desire to do it too. Inspired by the posts Write your Tav (other characters' POV edition) and My Tav (Tyrael) Headcanons, I decided to make this post. Let's see what the Companions think of our Half-Dragon?
Meet more about Philrath
Shadowhear
"Philrath is...Curious. But not in a bad way. Of course, when I met her I thought she was strange, but she was kind to me, to all of us. Sometimes I think we didn't deserve it. Her being the daughter of a dragon was strange to accept, but I soon got used to it. In the end I think I understand her, she was alone for so many years, away from her family... I hope she feels good where she is now."
Lae'zel
"The dragon hybrid exceeded my expectations. Maybe they weren't tall, but Philrath proved to be more than just a pretty face. She fought bravely! When I saw her fly in her direction, spitting the end of her enemies onto the ice, I understood why she was hiding, and I admired her. But she doesn't need to hide, she'll be the dragon when she needs to be, and we'll be here to make sure no bastard locks her up again! I may not agree with everything she does... she's still a sentimental fool. But I see a warrior in her eyes."
Gale
"Philrath is unique. What can I say? I would love to study her magic more calmly. I understand exactly how dragon magic flows so well in a hybrid's body, but I'm afraid of getting bitten! Well... I wouldn't just get one..." (Referring to the vampire) "Anyway, I'm glad she trusts us enough to expose herself. It's difficult... Explaining when you have something dangerous in you. I confess that looking at it from this angle, damn, it makes sense that she ignored me... A dragon is a little too much for me..." (He takes a goddess and still says that...). "Better to leave her with someone who understands these wilder things."
Karlach
"She is amazing! Seriously, she, like, even tried to touch my hand when I asked. We almost gave her a thermal shock, poor thing, but did she accept it? Serious. She's crazy! But... I adore her. I would hate to see her arrested, when she told me I... I was devastated. I'm going to kick those hunters' asses! She protected me... I must do the same. It's almost as if she were a little sister... A little sister who turns into a fucking dragon, but a little sister."
Halsin
"Philrath... Sometimes I let slip from my lips a nickname, 'Little Dragon'. That's what she is. She's small for a dragon, but she must have her heart in the right place, more so than most of them... When she asked me to train her, I was embarrassed. I didn't see myself in a position to do that, but she opened up and said how scared she is of hurting people, transformed... I know what that's like. Even I, an experienced person, I feel fear when I transform into a bear over unstable emotions, imagine her, a dragon. But she is safe now, in our arms, with Silvanus and protected in the embrace of her soulmate. I will be here if she needs extra arms for the hug ." (A not so innocent joke)
Astarion
"Oh, Philrath? My Darling? What do I say... I don't want to expose her too much, but she's a delight. But I think that before I talk about how wonderful she is carnally, I should say how much she... Trusted me. See, you let me bite you. She gave me company at night. It was a sweet voice for when I got nervous. She did crazy things, oh how crazy things, for me! And... I never wanted anything in return. She just... loved me. Honestly, I don't want to break up with her! I don't care if she has scales, or if she turns into a dragon, or if she's hunted by maniacs? But so what?? I have my own maniac to kill. So what?? I'd love to do this with her... And I'd love to return the favor." (Post Cazador, they will apparently have no rest.)
Wyll
"Philrath... She's not a monster. I know it's weird to start like this, but everyone says that! She says this about herself. And she's not a monster. It's just a... Person who has suffered his whole life and wants to live! Damn, if it's difficult for me now that I have this pair of horns, imagine she's had them since birth. I feel sorry, but I want to help her. The Blade of Frontiers has promised to protect those in need, and she does. Philrath could only abandon everything and everyone, live in seclusion, feel angry. But look at her here... Making us happy with songs and dances and saving little children. She is not a monster. Monsters are those who gave her that title."
Tag List: (Thank you!)
@spacebarbarianweird
@vixstarria
#bg3#baldur's gate 3#write your tav#bg3 tav#my tav#baldur's gate oc#writing#philrath#tav#bg3 oc#oc headcanons#tav headcanons#tav bg3
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
you know, the Josh historians might remember the fact that I gave Madoka Magica on DVD to my high school English teacher when I graduated. He was my favourite teacher bar none and influenced the way I thought about media really strongly, so I felt like, fuck it, give him the piece of media that influenced me the most and which is my favourite, you know? Wasn’t sure if he was enough of a nerd to watch anime or anything, but he was enough of a nerd to be both aware of it and more than okay with consuming foreign media - but really more than anything I just wanted the sentiment of giving something important to me, to him. Explained a whole bunch about how much I loved the series and the many amazing things it does and he seemed really happy with the gift at the time, I mean hey it’s way more unique than a box of chocolates, right? And it was about the gift to me, really. Did I want him to watch it? Yeah. Did I want him to like it? I sure hoped so. But as far as I could’ve been aware, I wouldn’t ever really know. And that was okay with me. I was fine just having given him something important to me and having him appreciated the fact that I did that.
Anyway, obviously I’m bringing this up because it’s somehow relevant. Lo and behold, I saw that same English teacher in a shop. And we actually stopped each other and chatted for a bit. There was a degree of awkward “oh how are you doing?” type small talk, but it quickly got swapped out for almost more life affirming general conversation, and I think it was apparent to both of us how happy we were to see each other. Which I feel touched me especially because hey, fair enough for a student to remember a teacher, you don’t get loads of those - but I must have made a hell of an impact to be fondly remembered by a teacher that’s taught hundreds or thousands of students.
But most importantly of all. I asked him if he got around to watching Madoka. And you fucking know he did! Holy shit that’s awesome! Bro I got my high school English teacher to watch Madoka fucking Magica? That’s badass! Obviously I had to ask him what he thought of it too. And he only said one word, delivered softly too - for it was all he needed.
“Beautiful.”
Like fucking fireworks were going off in my head dude. Cause the thing is like cool, really happy to see him, life affirming conversations, just generally really nice, and even if I didn’t ask about Madoka or if I did and he hadn’t watched it then that doesn’t negate that this was a really delightful encounter I’m super happy to have had. But he did watch it! And it fucking touched him dude! He super appreciated it! We were talking more and he even said “I’ve not watched it in a while” and those are his exact words and pay attention to them because bro! If he said “I watched it a while ago” then it’s a one-and-done but he hasn’t watched in a while which implies he’s either already rewatched it or hasn’t closed his mind to the idea and that’s just!!!!!!!!! Like this is the closure I didn’t know I wanted and it’s a way better outcome than I ever would’ve guessed!!!!!!!
So yeah I’m just fuckin happy lol.
7 notes
·
View notes
Note
Bc, some people think those moments were meant to draw a contrast rather than a direct parallel.
People think that Will being in between Mike and El's scenes is not necessarily there to imply that Mike likes Will but rather is there to show Will's unrequited feelings, because Will was blurred whereas Robin was at the center of the scene where we watched her visibly being sad but Will was not sad, he was blurred in the background and when Mike and El have a forehead touch moment, he is entirely out of the picture.
Also, people do not exactly notice which music plays at which scenes. Only if they are interested in analyzing or searching, then they can find. Another example is, we know about the 'tender emotional music' because we focused on that and then made an analysis, but even then that wouldn't necessarily look like byler proof to the other parts of the audience, esp when that same music also plays for a melvin scene in one of the scenes where they talk.
It's also that Dan and Vickie broke up but Dan is just some random character, whereas El is a main character and we have been following Mike and El's relationship for seasons (that's how the audience thinks), and they gave Mike a huge monologue, whether or not we argue that it happened due to Will, it still happened. Even if Mike and El do not exactly talk, it does not look like a byler proof for some people but it rather looks like a casual relationship drama which will be resolved in S5 like Jonathan and Nancy's underaddressed situations.
I am saying this bc while I am a byler shipper and I think the narrative has a chance to make Byler fully canon, I also have many queer friends or in general friends who belong to GA, and I can also understand their points when they say that they do not see byler happening because majority of the proof that we have seem far-fetched, random or delusional to them.... or just not enough of proofs in general.
yes i literally just said i know people find it harder to believe in byler because main characters are involved in the love triangle whereas dan and vickie are side characters, and that’s as far as i’ll get their sentiments.
about all your other points, yeah i know that these are all reasons why people from the GA think most byler proofs are farfetched...but it doesnt mean their arguments are valid and understandable though lmao. the rovickie/byler parallels aren't even that hard to pick up on, and if it was only meant to contrast the two relationships then will being out of focus while robin isn’t wouldn’t be the ONLY thing different about their scenes cause everything else is pretty much identical to each other, mike and vickie even have similar conflicted expressions when they look at will and robin (and its ON THEM for not noticing that). also even if will is blurred out he still stands out the most cause he’s dead in the middle of mike and el’s faces and his figure immediately draws your attention (heck he was the first thing i noticed as a casual viewer while watching vol 2), which makes no sense for someone who’s supposed to be just “entirely out of the picture”...and about the monologue. something tells me its just double standards against a queer ship cause this isn’t exactly the first time a character seemingly professes their undying love for another character but still ends up with someone else 🤔
what im trying to say is yeah its true that they have all these reasons for not believing in byler endgame but at the end of the day...how am i just supposed to understand the points they have when they’re the ones who cant read into things that aren’t supposed to be very complicated when you have common sense, and i dont really think their thought process/reasonings are particularly strong anyway. also in this context...the rovickie/byler parallel is literally one of our least “random” byler proofs that just came out of thin air, its very much in your face so 😭 i guess i’d understand if you were talking about other more tiny background hints in relation to this topic but this one is pretty blatant...sorry for going into a tangent
#if i started sounding mean sorry anon im just tired of seeing these same arguments all the time#esp the one about the focus in the rovickie scene vs the mlvn reunion bc...its rlly not that hard to understand why they filmed it that way#all that aside...its on them for being narrow minded while watching the show and immediately dismissive of byler proof#byler
13 notes
·
View notes
Note
why do you like jake so much?
because i love it when characters are difficult and complicated and their characterization escapes the vast majority of a fanbase. there is SO MUCH to jakes character and a lot of it gets misconstrued/misunderstood or straight up just blown past. also jake has a lot of "required reading" as i like to call it irt movies, many of the movies and medias he enjoys can be looped back around into the reader's understanding of him; big examples here are princess bride (which i actually havent seen yet but i Understand how it impacts him), avatar, and i would say even his interest in comics! Everything is Something with jake.
if were gonna use avatar for example. You might think Oh jonah. This is just his silly joke interest! which yeah thats true but it absolutely can be both and i choose to interpret it as such. but if youve seen avatar then youve seen the way neytiri and jakes relationship operates. Its literally dirkjake in a different font you guys. an important sentiment i always come back to with avatar is "i see you". jake wants to be Seen and Understood and Known but he is also very scared of being Seen and Understood and Known because he is, more than anything, a Faker. he hides the truth and even squirrels it away from himself and this is the thing that causes a lot of his internal strife and etc. in avatar jake sully at the end of the movie makes the choice to become a na'vi and be with neytiri. he literally changes himself to be with her (and ironically turns himself into a Blue Guy to be with the Blue Girl) and i think this is probably a really easy and quick way to explain the Jake Camouflage. jake Pretends and Fakes because he wants people to like him. he is desperate for validation and approval from other people to the point where it wears heavily on his wellbeing. this is one of my favorite things to play around with.
jakes relationship with gender and sexuality is also a really heavy hitter for me, i love gender and exploring gender and talking about gender because it is the Core of me as a Person. i <3 being nonbinary i will never shut up about it. Anyway. the way jake haphazardly traipses through all of his interactions with women he is "supposed to" be attracted to just screams closeted gay guy to me. like. Check this out.
here jake is having an argument with 'himself' (bgd) about his attraction to aranea and how hes having intrusive sexual thoughts about her but "theyre just thoughts they dont mean anything im not trying to have them!" comes off to me like "Please Someone Fucking Save Me From Forcing Myself To Like Girls To Fill The Part Of A Macho Man Which I Know I Am Not". jakes relationship with jane is a fucking disaster because theyre both trying to appeal to a cishetnormative read of themselves (and for jane she pastes that onto both of them) and play the part of their agabs (tmasc nonbinary butch lesbian jane and tfem nonbinary gay jake household sorry if you came here for something different) while failing spectacularly.
when it comes to gender jake really enjoys his extremes--he loves peak masculinity and he loves peak femininity but he HATES the idea of being a man (his own words!) cue: the excerpt everyone sources.
i have a Lot that i could say about this exchange but this is already a really long post so im gonna try and wrap shit up here.
i could honestly talk about this All Day and write several thousand words about jake alone (notice how i didnt touch on dirkjake at all here. Yeah thats because it would be the worlds longest post ever if i did. We can save that for a rainy day LOL) but for your own sanity anon i will abstain. Um yeah but this is just a quick snippet of my Thoughts. i have a lot more and i definitely left a lot of things out here but im always happy to infodump like this if i get prompted :-)
#long post#SORRY i dont think i can use readmores on asks?#i would use one if i could#asks#anonymous#infodump tag
3 notes
·
View notes
Note
i've been thinking about the dimidue discourse recently and i think this is what's bothering me:
1) dimitri genuinely loves and cherishes dedue– he says that himself, word for word. he also says, point blank, that dedue was the reason he kept sane for so long– and you see it, too! after he believes dedue to be killed, he no longer has any reason to live, and allows himself to completely devolve into his revenge-fueled boar king state. and, in azure moon, it's only when dedue returns that he sets himself back to his path of recovery– because his reason to live returned.
also, in verdant wind and silver snow, dimitri has unique dialogue if dedue is felled before him, telling him to retreat. dedue is the only character he does that for. it just goes to show how important dedue is to him, even when he's fully consumed by his own demons.
this isn't even touching on the fact that dimitri is enraged about the fate of the duscurians, and wants to do everything he can to help rebuild them. there's so much to talk about, but i have another gripe with this.
2) WHAT ABOUT PETRA.
if you're going to talk about dedue and dimitri, i think it's important to talk about petra and edelgard as well. petra is an actual political hostage whose father was murdered when she was eleven, got kidnapped and taken to a country whose language she didn't speak, was relentlessly mocked by nobles from said country for her poor speech, and generally got treated so poorly.
there is so much you can say about the invasion of brigid and its vassalship, especially outside of cf where adrestia tries to take it for themselves again. it's just weird to me how it's just dimidue these people focus on when there's stuff just like that going on in the empire, too.
i wonder why. probably because they believe edelgard can do no wrong.
anyways! sorry for the rant, but i just had to get this out. have a great day :)
No apology necessary, it's nice to see how many of us actually understand Dedue very well, in spite of the sentiment that apparently kicked all this off. In part because of how FE's character priorities work there is a lot of underselling of just how much Dimitri cares about Dedue, even when he's at his lowest. When you get down to it the two of them are the stuff of incredibly corny romance, especially in Hopes with its "my place is at his side from now until the end of time" and "I cannot know happiness without you by my side" and "remember when I'd sneak you into my room at night?" and "pick any random AU and we'd still be together." In my big comparison video I thought about ending the Dimidue segment with a joke about how Dedue dying at Dimitri's grave would segue into the ending of Titanic with them making out in front of all their friends and other lovers...but it would have taken forever to do that much photomanipping.
As for Petra, I think it's brought up less because Petragard isn't a popular pairing, nor does Petra have many notable interactions with Edelgard outside of their supports in either game. It's therefore easier to write off the situation with Petra and Brigid as the developers not caring about them very much, whereas people who like and talk about Dedue pretty much all either ship Dimidue or are else violently opposed to the idea of Dimidue with nothing in between on account of those factors I brought up for why Dimidue is such a polarizing ship in the fandom. Dimitri being a subtextually queer character just doesn't sit well with some fans' conceptions of him.
15 notes
·
View notes
Note
This is just a funny little thing rather than an ask, but thank you for sharing your fics with us. After the whole Ao3 drama over the past day or so, of not being able to access the site and its fics, I just wanted to say thank you bcs I enjoy your work. I was having fic withdrawals and thinking, "What if the site never comes back up? I'll never be able to read them again, and I'll never know what happens." So yeah, just thought I'd send this to you, haha :) It just goes to show just how important fandom is. Hopefully, this will encourage others to comment on fics they like since everyone has been struggling without their fics.
howdy there! it’s always lovely to hear from you, ask or not. and yeah, i was a bit sad, that i couldn’t read before bed, like i usually do as well. but tbf, ao3 server/staff is pretty apt and usually they deal with site’s issues fairly quickly. it wasn’t the first time, when the site was down due to cyber attacks. after a couple of days, it always bounces back. i do get the sentiment tho. and it’s really nice to see someone else being this gentle of the writing and online fic community. writing/reading was smth that i held dear since my mid-teens, so i can get the feeling of ‘what if i will never read it again’. i still feel sad about some fics, that i loved, but which got deleted. i wish that i could store it all somewhere.
anyways, thank you for reaching out! and i agree! i always found shelter from irl stuff in stories, be it my own or someone else’s fics. in online communities writing tends to be looked down upon. a typical ‘it’s written like a fanfiction’ thing, that people throw around as an insult, esp when it comes to some canon property that didn’t met their expectations. but honestly, those people just never read a good fic, i guess. i feel bad for them lol. esp bc it does make sense to write fics, even before you would write a movie script or say, a book. writing like any skill needs to be worked on, and experimented with. fics provide all the ground, that you want for that. esp bc you can even have many accs and stay anon, if you don’t wanna smth to be tied up to you in future. but, welp, i do hope that eventually folks will learn to have more respect for online creators. bc like….i mean, it’s literally a free entertainment. of all kinds and genres. too bad that at times, it’s difficult for people to just create and enjoy what they do. but i always say, that i do believe that anyone can start drawing or writing. it won’t be flawless, esp at first, but this way whatever you want can exist out there.
but ah, okay. sorry! i talk hella a lot. once again, it’s very touching for you to message me! both as a fellow author and a fellow reader, i’m glad to have the same feeling of ‘i really love fics and ao3.’
5 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
