#But is it infantilizing when it’s a guy or does it just mean he gets to retain his youth contrary to women

[sonknuxadow]

sorry i dont really like the shadow is silvers dad theory/headcanon/whatever and part of the reason for it is that people keep presenting it as an actual thing that could be possible even though it makes no sense and all "evidence" people use to back it up is easily disputed

[somewhereincairparavel]

a huge chunk of the pjo fandom has turned into such a superficial, judgemental and PROBLEMATIC group who defeat the purpose and point that the books were trying to make, it's so fucking atrocious. the prime example of mischaracterizing/reducing the value of characters who are already misunderstood/misjudged in canon. this fandom does this to every.single.character.ever omg

percy jackson is so relatable to many people is because he didn't have to capacity to absorb textbook knowledge but was HIGH on street smart knowledge that got him to succeed. the whole point of his character is that he had low self esteem because he was ridiculed at school by the faculty and the students for being a 'dumb' and 'useless' guy that made him think he's an inconvenience to his mom. the baggage he carried is so overlooked.

the fandom saying stuff like 'annabeth had adhd and dyslexia too but she carried percy' is so fucking disrespectful. one, she's an athena kid who's supposed to be smart that's like the whole point, and that does NOT mean percy wouldn't survive without her. he's a DIFFERENT character and he doesn't need to be a scholar to be a powerful demigod who has his own identity. stop belittling him and comparing all of their adhd/dyslexia struggles. just because annabeth is smarter does NOT mean percy has less value than her, and that whatever comes out of his mouth is just silly gibberish, which is exactly what y'all are trying to imply. no he did NOT get by with just "luck" he's smart and capable enough to actually achieve things. It isn't rocket science.

making jokes like his only purpose is to have a goofy personality and wondering how he 'pulled' annabeth is NOT cute whatsoever. just deprives him of his canon developement and fails to recognise him as an important person because he is not book smart. the level of belittlement. in a way rick also contributes to this character assassination because he added another scene of piper saying something along the lines of 'thank god annabeth is there to keep percy from going wild/doing something stupid' like no miss girl

I could go on about how the fandom infantilizes nico, brushes of hazel's flaws/traits because she's a 'smol' bean (when she literally cusses out octavian, why do y'all hate the idea of her being bold/badass when she literally is??) belittling frank's power because he's 'just an innocent goof', saying stuff like 'in my head leo is a tall guy because rick did him dirty with the height when he is so hot' that's basically implying that he loses his attractiveness because he's short and wanting to confine him into those toxic masculinity standards

slandering rachel and calling her a pick me for liking annabeth as though annabeth already had a claim over percy in BOTL when he wasn't even in a relationship and even had a small liking to rachel (belittling BOTH rachel and percy in the process, is percy not allowed to have feelings too? is he only obligated to like annabeth?), also with the fandom's clear misogyny in their treatment of nico liking percy vs rachel liking percy, go on a moral policing hunt when it comes to jason, piper and percy but goes right ahead to defend and glaze luke's behaviour to annabeth, percy and silena (also victim blaming silena because she was manipulated as a teenager by a fully grown adult who KNEW what he was doing, using her)

stubbornly not wanting to recognise jason as an important character and reducing him into a 'whiney pick me guy who wanted everything to be about himself' and that he's 'boring' not realising that his abusive environment both as a baby and as a teenager suppressed him into struggling and not being able to feel worthy to even have feelings of his own, villianizing and getting on pipers throat for calling percy unimpressive simply because she LOVED and was LOYAL to her then boyfriend?? is she not allowed to have a preference??? heck id be more concerned if she did call percy hot whilst being in a relationship wtf.

and DONT get me started on the grover belittlement and erasure please, saying that percy and grover are only annabeth's 'sidekicks' on quests, as though he wasn't capable to go on a hunt for pan all by HIMSELF not knowing he'll ever be back.

[xixovart]

tel/ody/pen stuff i’ve had in my silly brain for a while

first off i see everyone talking about how long it takes for telemachus to get used to odysseus actually being there and getting to know him as a person rather than a legend, but.. however. the first ‘i love you’s. cause odysseus is used to telling telemachus he loves him. i mean thats his kid, he knew him as a baby, and he knew he loved telemachus. but like. tel doesn’t know odysseus. like he does, but barely. he knows odysseus is his father and he’s used to the idea of that, and he knows he’s supposed to love him, but they missed 20 years of each other’s lives. so? when doesn telemachus tell ody he loves him?? great question. it happened 8 months after odysseus returned, right after dinner and story time. it slipped out as telemachus left the dining hall and bid his father goodnight. it came naturally and telemachus didn’t even realize what he’d just said. odysseus was WRECKED.

for the first few weeks after odysseus got back, telemachus slept in his and penelope’s room. like they wpuld just NOT be apart. even after that they still never let each other out of their sight for too long. guys seperation anxiety and abandonment issues in this family are SEVERE but they do work through it it’s okay

once he’s comfortable, telemachus tells odysseus secrets and stories not even penelope knew about.

odysseus has a hard time seeing telemachus as an adult and not an infant. like it’s so weird for him to believe that the child he once held in his arms is a man now.

subsequently, odysseus and telemachus do a lot of infantile father-son things together. to make up for the years they lost. they skip rocks, swim in lakes, tell really stupid horror stories. and then they rule a kingdom as king and prince. they talk business, travel, kill suitors.

odysseus and penelope rule the kingdom EQUALLY!!!! this is so important because its set in ancient greece, when queens were typically only used to bear princes and to adorn the king. penelope has just as much say in what does and what does not happen in ithaca. they’re partners. in marriage, crime, and ruling.

[pineconepie]

This was an ask I got a while back, but either I can't find it or accidentally deleted it. But to the anon who asked for a scenario like this, here you go! :D

TW: Amnesia, parental/platonic yandere, forced infantilization, drugging, implied kidnapping, manipulation

"Help! Please help!" you cry, running as fast as you can throughout the dense forest. Branches and sharp brambles scrape your cheeks and catch onto your clothes.

You stop for a brief moment to pick the twigs out of your disheveled hair. The small cuts sting horribly but it doesn't deter you from pushing onwards.

Sweat beads down your forehead and you wipe at it furiously. Your chest is heaving, desperately trying to take in more oxygen.

"(Y/n)! Stop!" His booming voice echoes throughout the forest.

He's getting closer to you. You have to keep running, keep moving, keep—

Something hits you, something cold and metal. You barely have enough consciousness to realize it was a car, on the dirt road path. Your vision swims, and your head feels ready to burst.

Your ears ring incessantly. All you can hear is that horrible noise, but it doesn't completely drown out him calling for you.

And suddenly there are strong arms around you. "Oh! My baby! What have you done?!" Someone picks you up. They yell to someone else, but their voice is fading out.

Your vision fades to nothing.

...

When you wake up, there's the sound of something beeping. It's a comforting constant rhythm, steady and predictable. You think you know what it is, but your head feels all muddled and foggy.

Something cool and soft presses against your forehead, and you lean into the soothing touch.

"That's right, honey. Nice and easy," a voice speaks above you. Its light, with a subtle hint of an accent you can't recognize. A thumb gently rubs at your temple, massaging it with care and ease. "That must've been a pretty bad fall you took. Don't worry, I've got you."

You open your eyes. Hovering above you, is a man with long messy brown hair, light brown eyes, and a slight stubble of facial hair. He looks to be in his early to mid forties or so.

There's something familiar about him. You should know who this person is... but your brain cannot come up with a name.

"There they are!" the man coos. The corner of his eyes crinkle. He has crow's feet around them. You think those mean someone smiles often. You stare blankly back at him, mind still groggy from what happened earlier. He hums a melody, and gently brushes his fingertips along your arm.

"What..."

"Hush now, don't talk just yet," he murmurs. His other hand is behind your head, propping you up in its palm. "Had quite a nasty fall there. Scared me half to death!"

"Where am I?" You blink, still slightly disoriented.

"Shhh..." He kisses your bandaged forehead. "You're here in the hospital, sweetie. Just got done doing x-rays on your head." The room around you is stark white. There are various machines around you and one is beeping at a constant rhythm. It smells of chemicals and medicine. "I know you hate being scolded, but (Y/n), you know better than to play in the forest so late at night..." He scrubs a hand over his face tiredly.

You squint at him, trying to jog your memory as to who this guy even is. Is he perhaps someone important? Someone you're supposed to know?

As hard as you try, no answers come to mind. And now that you're thinking about it, you really can't remember much at all besides your name and general sense of self.

"I'm sorry, who are you?" you awkwardly ask.

The man freezes. His eyebrows raise up in surprise before furrowing with concern. "Wh—(Y/n), sweetie," he looks at you. "Can you tell me who I am?" You shake your head. He stares at you for a moment, like frozen. Only when you awkwardly look down, does he do too. "The doctors mentioned possible memory loss, but..." He looks so torn; eyebrows twisted up sadly. You almost want to reach out and hug him.

The only thing that stops you is the IV, and the fact you don't know him, despite what he says.

"What's the last thing you remember, baby?" he asks again.

You wrack your brain. "I don't know. I know my name... and that's about it."

A flash of pain shoots through his gaze, though he seems to keep himself collected. "Okay. So, sweetie... I'm your dad." He reaches out to clasp your hands. "My name is Hugo Harrison. You're (Y/n) Harrison."

"You... don't look very much like me..." You realize that might be a rude thing to say. "Sorry, I didn't mean that in a mean way."

Hugo chuckles. "It's okay, there's not a mean bone in your body, kiddo." He pauses, like contemplating his next words extra carefully. "I'm your adoptive dad. Now, we could go into a lot more detail, but let's not strain that noggin of yours for today, hm?" He tenderly touches your wrapped forehead. You must have injured it severely, which explains the splitting headache and memory loss.

"Oh, that makes sense," you murmur. You take in his appearance more. He has a tattoo peaking from below his collar shirt, and looks a bit rugged, with muscular arms that have a few scars. He even has an eyebrow piercing on his left.

Despite that, he seems so... sweet.

"Do you have any photos of us?" you ask. Part of it is genuine curiosity, but mostly just because you don't know what else to say.

His eyes soften, and he pulls out his phone to immediately show you his lock screen.

Sure enough, there the two of you are, smiling at the camera. It doesn't look like it was too long ago. You're both indoors, wearing some kind of brown and periwinkle uniforms.

Noticing your confused expression, he explains, "I own a cafe, sometimes you help out. That's where this photo is from. One of my favorites."

He scrolls through his camera roll and shows another picture of the both of you. In this one, you're sleeping on his lap, his hand covering the side of your face in an apparent attempt to block you from seeing the flash.

You nod mutely, trying to soak it all in. All you know of this man is from these two images.

So far, there's nothing overtly suspicious. Nothing that triggers alarm bells or raises red flags. At this point, you have no reason not to believe him.

So why do you feel so unsettled?

"How are you feeling, by the way?"

"Not good," you mumble, bringing a hand up to your head, cringing from the pain.

He presses a kiss to your hair, holding it for several seconds before pulling away. "Oh, sweetheart..." His voice wavers with emotion. "I'll talk to the doctors again. For now, you rest up, okay?"

With such a splitting headache and sore body, you have no trouble obeying his commands. Your eyes flutter shut, and the last thing you hear is a sigh coming from him, as well as something about wanting to take you home.

...

"Easy," Hugo soothes, letting you lean on him heavily as he walks you to his house. Everything hurts from your body to your head. The medication from earlier wore off halfway to his home.

Speaking of his house, it looks pretty much like a standard home, if not kind of cute, almost reminiscent of a cottage. It's beige with dark brown trimmings. Ivy climbs around the windows.

Flower beds line along the pathway to the front door and a vegetable garden sits near the shed in the back. There's wind chimes hanging near the entrance.

"I wish I could remember any of this," you mutter as he situates you on the couch. "Sorry."

"No, no," he reassures, rubbing your upper arm. "Don't apologize, okay? It's not your fault that this happened."

"What was I doing out in the forest, anyway? You mentioned something about that... is that something I typically do?" you ask.

Hugo looks confused for a moment, then nods. "Ah. Well, it was something you'd usually do, but hopefully that will be the last time. Sometimes you get... impulsive. You do things that are reckless. That's why I'm so protective of you. This isn't the first time you got injured like that." He shakes his head and laughs. "Stubborn kid you are..."

"I see." What else can you say, really? You wish your brain would hurry up and recall something. Right now it just feels blank. All you have to go off of is Hugo. "I know I can't remember, but I'm still sorry. For what I did. Or, uh, do."

His gaze softens even more, looking like the definition of fond. "Like I said, sweetie, you don't need to worry about a thing. It's all in the past now. What matters is that you're here now, safe with me. How about I take you up to your room? You can get a nap in while I make dinner. Sound nice?" He brushes his thumb over your temple.

You wordlessly lean against him. He chuckles and helps you back up, mindful of your injuries, and leads you upstairs.

Again, it looks like a completely normal household. Nothing stands out to you besides perhaps the large number of photographs littering the walls.

Your bedroom has pastel blue wallpaper with stars decorating the top half of the wall.

There's a bunch of stuffed animals lining the bed, as well as pillows with galaxy themed pillows. The carpet is plush and your feet sink slightly in them.

"This was... mine?"

"Yes!" He seems less happy about it when he sees your expression. "Do you not like it? You decorated it yourself..."

"Isn't it kind of, uh, childish? Nothing wrong with that, of course, just doesn't seem like something someone older would want," you lamely explain.

Hugo takes another moment to mull over his words. "Well... you've always been a bit childish for your age, sweetie. I think it's adorable, and you seemed content with this room before... but if you really want to change it up, I don't mind at all." His strained smile tells you that he does, in fact, mind it.

"That's okay. I think I do like it, now that I've seen it longer," you reassure him. Part of it might be because you feel bad. You hobble over to the bed with his assistance, and watch him choose a cutesy beige pajama set. The sleeves are longer than your arms and the pants are covered in sheep patterns. "Do I normally wear that to bed?"

"More like just your typical lounge wear," he answers. "Do you need help, or can I leave you to it?"

"Um, you can leave me to it." You watch him open the door to leave. "Oh, by the way... what do I call you? By your name? Dad? Papa?"

A large smile stretches across his lips. "You call me 'Papa', but really anything works with me. Just want you to feel comfortable, bud. Oh, and dinner'll be ready soon. Tomato, chicken noodle, or cream of mushroom?"

You look down at your lap, where your pajamas lay. "What ever I liked most, I guess."

He hums in affirmation. "Sounds good."

Before long, you've changed and situate yourself on your bed, the stuffed toys huddled around you like a cocoon. Though everything seems fine and cozy, it all feels too new, too strange, for it to feel exactly right. It's supposed to be yours, you know this. And yet, it feels so... foreign.

This should make sense. Logically, it does. But your intuition keeps whispering doubts, despite Hugo giving you nothing but warmth.

...

Two weeks pass, and go by pretty uneventfully. He cares for you like you are a toddler, but he assures you this is how he used to act around you.

Still, your memory seems stubborn in recovering, and each night you pray for the morning to finally reveal a clue as to your past.

So far, nothing has shown up.

And being confined within the house doesn't help, either. Hugo refuses to let you go outside unsupervised, claiming how he wouldn't be able to forgive himself if you wound up in danger again.

And really, who are you to refuse him? You don't have any memories, any other friends (he's told you they've moved away years ago), and you have no money to sustain yourself. He's all you have.

"Where are you going?" you ask one morning, to see him slinging on a jacket. His hair is also tied up, which you've gathered he only does when he's going out somewhere.

"The cafe," he replies, though you can tell something is off by the way he smiles. "There's leftovers in the fridge if you get hungry, okay? Stay inside, and I mean it."

"Can't I go with?" you suggest. Maybe seeing the place could bring back some recollections. Plus, sitting alone all day isn't fun at all, especially when there's nothing to distract you with besides watching TV or reading. Neither of those interests you that much, not to mention a majority of the books and shows catered to people less than half your age.

"Not with those injuries," he chuckles, but there's some firmness in his tone.

"I feel fine! My ankle isn't sprained anymore, and my ribs hardly bother me," you counter. Your face isn't bandaged anymore, either. Instead, only faint scars remain.

"Honey, the answer is no."

"I just want to leave the house!" you blurt. His eyebrows raise up at your outburst. "It's boring staying cooped up all day! I don't want to watch cartoons again or read a comic book or play with action figures."

He purses his lips. "But you love doing those things..."

"Yeah, sure. I don't doubt that I like those activities. But maybe sometimes I'd like to do something more, I dunno, mature." It's not that you hate the stuff Hugo's given you, but you aren't mentally ten years old or whatever age he's assuming you are. So reading picture books and playing with kiddie games get dull real fast. "Please? I don't have to do any physical labor, just wanna get outside the house..."

"(Y/n)..."

Maybe it's a tad bit manipulative, but you've found it works pretty well on him. "I just wanna spend time with my papa... if I can't remember old memories, I was hoping we'd have more time to bond..."

Hugo looks torn for a split second, before giving you a gentle grin, reaching out to pinch your cheeks. "Allllriiight," he drawls. "Wear something warm. It's chilly out."

"Why not my uniform?"

"Because I don't want you working, silly."

The drive there is an hour long, and has you wondering how on earth he makes these long treks there and back five times a week.

By the end, you're yawning and leaning against the window. He laughs, shaking you awake, helping you walk inside the cafe.

In the break room, he situates you on the couch. "I'll get you something to snack on soon. Banana bread, blueberry muffin, brownie, or chocolate chip cookie?"

You weakly smile. "What ever was my favorite?"

He snorts. "Gotcha. I'll be back soon. Don't leave this room, 'kay?" He doesn't wait for a response, quickly busying off towards the counter, throwing his apron back on.

When he's out of view, you try to relax, but as time passes on, you get bored with the things he's given you.

A coloring book, a children's storybook, and crayons litter around you. Sure, they're fun for a little while, but then you're back to square one.

You briefly contemplate if this is the reason why you kept running off to the forest often.

If he's been anything like this normally, you can imagine why you've been searching for more fun things to do.

You peak your head from the break room, to see him tending to another customer, making conversation.

"Oh, (Y/n), that you?"

You look to see one of the customers. He's a person about your age, smiling at you like you guys are friends. When you return the look awkwardly, it morphs into confusion.

"Hey, you alright?" he asks, walking closer to you. "Don't tell me you're working. Hugo told me you had a nasty fall, dude."

"Oh, I'm just here while he works," you shrug. "My memory is a bit weird, still. Who are you...?"

He blinks. "Oh. I'm Weston. We're friends. You must have it pretty bad if you can't remember me."

This is all so confusing. Hugo told you that you didn't have any friends... "Oh. Well, I'm just in the break room while Papa works." You cringe at your own wording. Still feels a bit weird, despite having grown more accustomed to calling him that now. "After he's done, we're probably just gonna go home."

Weston frowns. "Your dad? Are you talking about Hugo?" When you nod, he gives a dry laugh. "(Y/n), he's not—"

"What are you doing?" The deep voice startles you both. You turn around to see Hugo staring between the two of you, jaw tensing with some suppressed emotion. He forces a smile at Weston. "Hey, Weston, sorry, they're going through a lot as you can tell. Still in a state of constant confusion. Sorry. Did you want your usual? Croissant and cappuccino?"

He takes a small step back, but is still clearly defensive, like he's waiting for something to happen. "Yeah, no worries, Mr. Harrison. I know they hit their head hard."

Hugo nods. "I'll get started on that in a sec." He drags you back to the break room, almost slamming the door shut behind him. "Kiddo. What did I tell you?"

"I didn't technically leave... I just poked my head to see if you were busy, and that guy... Weston, I think, recognized me..." You realize his breathing sounds labored. "He said he's my friend."

"That kid?" he says incredulously, laughing. It doesn't sound humorous. It's dry and cold. "No, no, no. Sweetheart, I know everyone in this town and he most definitely isn't friends with you. (Y/n), look, you really can't trust your judgment right now." He grips your shoulders. "You gotta understand that you're hurt. Your head's not working correctly. Okay?"

You wish you could let it go, but something else he said makes you anxious. "He sounded like he was about to say you aren't my dad..."

"He's misinformed. Don't let him fill your head with lies. Now, I gotta get back to work."

"But—"

"For the love of God, just shut up, will you?" he snaps. "I barely let you come along! I should've followed my instincts, why do you have to make everything so damn difficult?"

The glint in his eyes scares you. It reminds you of something terrible, even if you can't remember. You flinch so hard you fall off the couch.

As soon as Hugo's anger came, it dissipated when he saw you trembling, backing up. You shield yourself away with your arms, expecting him to explode.

Even though you have no memory in your head, it's like your body remembers, judging by the way you recoil away from him. It's all instinctual. Even when his expression turns from angry to worried, to guilty.

"Oh no..." He kneels beside you. "Oh, I am so sorry, baby. I don't know what came over me. Here, take my hand," he offers. You reluctantly take his calloused, scarred hand. "Shh... I know, Papa can be scary, huh? I shouldn't have yelled like that. It's just that you made me so mad, scaring me like that... he's a bad person. This town is filled with them. That's why I'm so protective of you."

He's always making up excuses.

"I just wanna be left alone," you rasp. "Please."

"Okay. That's fair. If that's what you want." You expect him to fight it, but instead he gets up slowly and leaves after mumbling one final apology. After the door closes, you exhale, burying your face into your hands.

Something about what happened triggers a flashback.

"You just never know when to stop, do you? How many times have I asked you not to hang out with them?"

"Hugo, come on, you can't dictate who I hang out with. I can handle myself just fine. Now please, let me just do my job. People are staring."

"Keep up with this attitude, (Y/n), and we'll have problems."

"If you're going to fire me, might as well do so. I'm close to quitting myself."

You don't remember anything after that.

But whatever it was, it couldn't be good.

The ride home is relatively silent. Not that it's much different from his normal quietness, but it's a different kind of quiet. Deafening. Tense.

All because he lost his cool earlier. Your shoulders hunch as you try to avoid eye contact.

Finally, Hugo speaks. "Still upset?"

"Why do you care?" you mumble.

His fingers tense against the steering wheel, before relaxing. "Of course I care. I care about you more than anyone else." His eyebrows furrow with concern. "Just because I got a bit snappy back there doesn't mean I love you any less. If you weren't so reckless... but even then, I shouldn't have lashed out at you like that." He sighs deeply. "I'm sorry."

Something tells you if you don't forgive him now, he'll give you hell about it later. "It's okay."

That seems to quell his stress immensely, and he breathes out shakily, like a huge weight was taken off him. "Thank you," he murmurs. "We'll do something special tonight, okay? Movie night, maybe a pillow fort?"

"Sure." You're too tired to argue.

...

The next day, he leaves to get groceries, taking another day off work. You take that as an opportunity to snoop around, for the two hours or so he'll be gone.

Maybe something is fishy about Hugo; the way he keeps trying to keep you restrained from leaving the house is suspicious enough. And the lack of communication to the outside world, even before the fall.

No computer, internet access, cell phone... maybe your memories won't have to return for you to discover some clues.

Searching his bedroom provides nothing useful, so you continue towards his desk area.

Opening drawers, there's lots of random papers inside, which you flip through and scan through as carefully as you can.

That's when you realize one of the letters is a letter of resignation... from you, addressed to Hugo. The date isn't too long ago; in fact, it's the day before you remember having the accident.

You read through it, each sentence causing you more and more distress, until the paper is trembling in your grip.

Hugo,

I appreciate everything you've done for me since I first started working with you, but unfortunately our differences are causing more trouble than it's worth.

The incident last week truly opened my eyes. I didn't realize how toxic and controlling you were. You have isolated me from society, refused to allow me freedom, and tried to control who I hang out with and what I do.

You're my boss, but you insist on acting like my father, despite how many times I've told you that is crossing a boundary of mine.

Therefore, I regretfully inform you I will no longer work with you. This will be my two weeks notice. I'm sorry.

(Y/n)

The paper flutters to the ground. You're sweating. Isolating, controlling, manipulative behavior... it fits to a T of what Hugo's been displaying to you since the accident. Except it started long before that.

You glance around the hallway, suddenly feeling like you're in enemy territory rather than your home. But can you even call it that anymore?

All's you know, is you need to get out of here.

Running back downstairs, you begin planning what supplies to bring with you, but movement from outside catches your attention.

Rushing to the window, you see a familiar figure walking up the driveway. Your blood runs cold.

It's Hugo, carrying bags from the grocery store.

You must've lost track of time. You stumble to your room and pretend to be asleep.

Listening carefully to the noises coming from downstairs, he brings in the bags and rustling follows.

Now that you know the truth, every tiny noise causes anxiety. Why is he doing all this? Was this really all an elaborate lie, this entire situation?

And the most chilling part... was he responsible for your accident? Has it ever been an accident in the first place? As these thoughts race in your mind, your ears strain to listen to what he's doing below you.

Footsteps approach the staircase. Your heartbeat quickens and you burrow further underneath the covers. They ascend slowly.

Eventually they're right in front of your bedroom. Then, it sounds like they turn and head towards his room instead. You have to stifle a relieved sigh when he doesn't enter your room.

The relief doesn't last long.

Did you put everything away where you found it? Did you shut the drawers properly, did you cover up your tracks?

A few minutes go by, until there's a knock on the door. "Sweetheart, I'm getting started on dinner. How does mac 'n cheese sound?"

"Sure," you say, so quiet he almost doesn't hear you.

You wait until you hear his footsteps descend, then sneak into his room to make sure you put everything up.

To your relief, it looks like it, so you shuffle back downstairs, trying to put on the best neutral expression you can manage.

The last thing you'd want him to suspect is that you're onto his twisted game.

"There they are! Come sit at the table. Almost ready." He ruffles your hair gently when you take a seat. It takes everything in you not to squirm away from his touch. To keep pretending that you're blissfully oblivious. "How long were you napping for?"

"Not too long." The less you talk, the better.

"That's good." Hugo serves you a bowl full of macaroni and adds a glass of juice next to it, sitting across from you. Something about his demeanor seems different. You're sure that's just the anxiety talking. "Is something wrong, buddy? You're quieter than normal," he notes.

"Just... still kinda tired." You pick at the macaroni, hoping he doesn't press on about this.

"Awww... well, eat up, okay?"

Despite the lack of appetite, you force down the food. Every bite tastes like mush.

But if you don't finish it, you have the sinking feeling he'll know something's up. So, you force everything down, as well as the juice, which washes it down easier.

Within moments, a sudden wave of dizziness washes over you. "H...Hugo..."

Hugo gives a lopsided smile, somewhat apologetic. "I'm sorry, kiddo. I didn't want to do that, but found you messed with some of my stuff. My fault, I've been putting off getting locks for it. I swear, I'd lose my head if it weren't screwed on!" He laughs. It borders on hysterical. "All I want is to be your dad... for you to let me care for you." He reaches out, brushing hair from your sweaty forehead. "But no need to worry. I doubt you'll remember any of today, anyway."

"No..." You try to stand, but end up collapsing forward. In the haze, you register being pulled upwards.

"You just can't help but be stubborn," he chastises. "Guess you got it from your old man."

"You aren't..." Your tongue begins to feel heavy, just like the rest of your body. "Not my..."

"Sleep, baby. Sleep. When you wake up, this will all just be a silly nightmare. Papa's got you. He'll always have you."

And despite your desperate attempts to stay awake, sleep eventually claims you, as black engulfs your vision.

The last thing you sense is your head being tucked underneath his chin, and hearing him hum the same melody he hummed in the hospital.

[idontmindifuforgetme]

This is making me lose my mind just read a whole post where people refer to him as a “kid” and knowing that people lambast women for calling themselves “girls” sometimes instead of “women” this is driving me insane the double standard is so real

This is very irrelevant to the whole Luigi Mangione case but can I just say it’s striking to me how they refer to him as a “26 year old rising star in the tech industry” bc I always get intrusive thoughts about if they’d have the same description for a 26 year old woman

[aredraw]

Hello! First of all I love the redo of BABTQFIM and the redesigns. Also I have a question, what will be changed in each character? Like obviously the infantilization of Mugman and how Felix seemed as a twink with Oswald- 😭😭😭 and will you keep the inspiration of Indiana Jones with Felix? When I first knew this I WAS WISHING to see Felix like Indy, but keeping the calm and stern personality that had in the comic.

Hell yeah I'm keeping the inso of Indiana Jones in Felix! He is literally the coolest guy you'll ever meet! scoot over Bendy- cause IM his BIGGEST FAN! Keep reading for LONG discerption of characters.

Anyways- Bendy is going to be less err...chibi..? And more his age cause aside from Oswald(35) and Felix(34), Bendy is the oldest(25)

Boris(20)will also be more mature and assertive. Since Bendy got sick, their roles have shifted. Bendy was the one who would cook, do chores, and work- but now Boris takes care of it despite Bendys protest.

(Boris tells him things like "Helping you is what makes me happy." even though he is filled with worry and dread) Bendy wants to spend the rest of his uncertain life making Boris happy, and Boris wants to spend the rest of it making Bendy happy. It gets harder when Bendys condition continues to worsen.

Oswald, is still depressed, only change is that he's a little better at hiding it now. And really, he only stuck to Felix for as long/much as he did to feel some sort of comfort. Hes kind of using Felix to pretend his wife's(Ortensia) still there since they look really alike (i mean srsly I'm making them the same height and giving them similar mannerisms)

Though Oswald will eventually come to see Felix as their own person and finally treat him more like a friend and less of a replacement. This is when and only when Felix starts to like Oswald.

Felix is focused on his career, and adventuring but loves the family vibe of Micky and Oswald (plus kids) He doesn't crush on Oswald immediately, just finds him fairly handsome and sweet but doesn't explore the thought too much or tries not to.

He convinces himself that Oswalds "closeness" is nothing to read into (Oswald will eventually explain why he acted so close and apologize for using Felix, later seeing and treating him like hes Felix and not Ortensia) THATS when Felix starts to feel close to Oswald and gets a crush. NO HE WONT BE A FUCKING TWINK! but he will get a little awkward. Think like Jake English from Homestuck.

And yes, Oswald will still have feelings for Felix even after he stops seeing Ortensia in him. He'll just notice they(his feelings) didn't go away but doesn't let it show till later. Hes chill like that.

a fun flip around.

Cuphead(23) and Mugman(23)-

Cuphead is trying really hard to keep a lighthearted vibe with Mugman, since it takes place pretty recent to when they gambled their souls (ill eventually draw what happens after) But yeah- Cuphead is more hesitant to make "in the moment" decisions now, he is terrified of messing up again- but at the same time is trying to take on more responsibilities, trying to act like hes changed and grown up. He stresses himself out and is playing it up that hes in control of everything, telling jokes and always trying to "handle" things to make it up to mugman.

Mugman- Hes less bothered by things that used to scare him. i mean hes lost his soul, so why would he waste his time being good? hes been good all his life and now his after life doesn't matter. Hes going to hell no matter what he does. so.... he doesn't try so hard to follow his morals anymore. Hes most likely to stop caring all together .

This is perfect, cause hes suddenly gonna be forced to care a lot more when he realizes how stressed cuphead is.

Another role shift :) God i love issues. (really hope i can show these things about the characters in the comic T^T) I'm not the best writer.

If you got more questions or confused about smth, then feel free to comment and ill try to respond when i can. -Anyways im tired, goodnight.

EDIT: Keeping Felix Australian-

[theverystrangegirl27]

⋆⭒˚.Be My Once In A Lifetime ⋆⭒˚.⋆

Summary: You're a young actress with a supporting role in Inglorious Basterds. You and co-star Christoph Waltz grow closer under the pretense of practicing a scene together.

Warnings: smut, older man younger woman, vaginal sex, multiple orgasms

"You're kidding, right?”

The camera pans up your bare leg, revealing the tight black dress you'd been hassled into by Quentin and the costume designer.

Quentin paces back and forth in front of you, eyes squinted.

“No! I think this is perfect, maybe shorter heels, though.” He says, gesturing to the costume designer, who comes back with some tasteful kitten heels.

You've known Quentin for most of your life, having worked at the video store together and collaborated on many of your own short films.

It only seemed right for him to cast you in his latest project, though you don't understand why he'd want you, an amateur actress, working alongside legends like Brad Pitt and the talented Christoph Waltz.

The cameraman stops on your face, which you can see in the monitor, and you try to school it into a more pleasant expression but it's hopeless- you've never acted in a scene like this before.

“Quentin, are you sure I'm the right fit for this?” You ask, carefully walking down the short staircase.

He shoots you a look.

“Of course, I wouldn't have cast you if you weren't.”

You suppose he has a point.

“Besides, I think it'll be good for you to branch out and play a little dangerous, if you know what I mean.”

You can't help the laugh that escapes you as he raises his brows, obviously intending to cheer you up.

“Okay,” you agree, slipping off the stilettos and replacing them with the kitten heels. “Let's do it.”

That's how you end up beneath Christoph Waltz, or rather, Hans Landa.

The camera is zoomed in on both of your faces, Christoph tracing the line of your lips with his eyes as he recites the lines.

“The Basterds must know that I am not a stupid man.” He says, low and condescending. “To send a seductress after me, how infantile.”

Yet his lips draw nearer, his grip on your waist harsh and unforgiving. You look into his eyes, gaze cold as he looks back into yours. You arch, trying to get away, but he holds you tighter.

You gasp as he fingers dig into the dress, sharp blooms of pain growing from the skin there.

“However,” He begins, the corners of his mouth pulling into a horrible smile. “I would be more of an imbecile not to take this angelic little gift that was practically served to me on a silver platter.”

You feel yourself getting wet at the lilt in his voice, how hot his thigh feels pressed between your legs. You want him so bad.

He pulls you in, big hand spanning across your arched back, pressing you to him.

When his lips meet yours, you go a little weak in the knees.

You fight it at first, hands curling into fists against his chest, trying to turn your head away, but you can't fight the desire any longer.

You give in.

“And cut!”

Christoph pulls away, panting. Your chest heaves a little as you shakily pull air into your lungs, looking at the way your hand is still pressed against his chest.

“That was perfect,” Quentin praises, a wide smile taking up his face. “One more take, and I think we've got it.”

He comes up to the both of you, Christoph still holding you, albeit softer.

“Now, Y/N, the struggling was great, but maybe kick your feet out just a little. Really try to get away from this guy, but then, after a few seconds, sink into it like you did just then.” Quentin directs, and you nod, pushing a lock of hair out of your eyes.

“Christoph, don't be afraid to just-” Quentin makes a quick grabbing motion with his hands. “Latch onto her, really grab her.”

Christoph runs his hand down your back, and you can't tell whether it's intentional or not, but it makes you shiver anyway.

As Quentin walks away, Christoph turns his attention to you.

“I'm not hurting you, am I?”

You give him a reassuring smile, ignoring the way your heart does somersaults in your chest.

“No, I'm okay.” You say, and he smiles down at you.

“Tough girl,” He says, and you fight the urge to bite your lip. His gaze turns serious, business like. “You can really push back for me, I can handle it.”

You nod, blushing a little at the double meaning his words conjur. Soon enough, Quentin is calling action, and the two of you are back at it.

After the last take, Christoph and you are left on set together while the crew packs up, Quentin looking over the footage a few feet away.

Christoph slicks back his hair, watching you lean against the desk, kicking your shoes off idlily.

“Would you like to have dinner with me this evening, Y/N?”

The question is sudden, out of the blue. You look up quickly, and your suprise must show on your face because Christoph begins to explain himself.

“To discuss the scene, if you'd like.” He says, looking a little sheepish. It's so uncharacteristic of him that you don't think twice before saying yes.

“I'd love to.” You say, beaming at him.

The smile he gifts you with makes your heart flutter wildly in your chest.

That night, you meet at Christoph's hotel room. The suite is huge, yet not overly extravagant. It suits him well, you think, as he lets you in.

“You'll have to forgive me for running a little behind.” He apologizes as he fixes his jacket.

“That's alright.” You tell him, sending him a small smile.

He's wearing a simple black blazer over a white linen shirt, black slacks to match. Christoph is clean-shaven, and his hair is immaculate as always.

It takes everything in you not to drool.

He seems to be thinking the same thing because he's stuck staring at you, lips slightly parted.

“You look lovely.” He breathes.

It takes you by suprise, pink dusting your cheeks.

“I could say the same about you,” you respond, cheeky.

Christoph smiles, lips pulling back to reveal pearly white teeth.

“You flatter me.” He jokes, moving towards the door.

“This hotel has a wonderful restaurant at ground level, I think you'll enjoy it.”

You do, as a matter of fact. The red wine Christoph order's is delicious, paired with some kind of salmon dish you can't pronounce.

The whole dinner is spent laughing, bantering back and forth, and listening to Christoph’s many stories.

“I really can't remember why I did that particular film,” He's explaining, setting his empty wine glass down. “To tell you the truth, I was probably hard pressed for money at the time.”

He had shed his blazer twenty minutes ago, left in the white linen shirt that looked so, so good on him.

You press the tips of your fingers to your lips, giggling a little. The wine has begun to go to your head, making you feel light and airy.

“Well, we've all made desperate acting decisions.” You joke, your foot accidentally nudging his under the table.

Christoph looks at you, a soft smile on his face and an unreadable glint in his eye.

“Have we?” He asks, raising a brow.

You blush, sitting back in your chair and sipping the last of your wine.

“I mean, I was in these terrible short films during college, I'm sure Quentin can tell you all about them.”

Christoph surprises you by leaning forward, resting his elbows on the table.

“Tell me about these short films.” The way he enunciates the last two words makes you shiver a little, and you hope he doesn't notice. “Been in anything I would have seen?”

That startles a laugh from you, and deciding to match his energy, you too lean forward, propping your chin in your hand.

“I hope not.” You say, smiling wide as you look into his eyes.

They're so pretty. Christoph has this warm, comforting aura to him that you can't really explain.

You've seen him in American interviews, how he's often described as cold- his dry wit lost on the likes of Jimmy Fallon and Kimmel- but you can't imagine those people are describing the man currently sitting in front of you.

He laughs.

“Come on, I've told you about that embarrassing German television spot I did. You owe me.”

You bite your lip, looking down at the tablecloth before deciding on a story.

“You want to hear about my very first on-screen kiss?”

You wiggle your brows, watching as Christoph nods.

“I was twenty-two, and it was some student film Quentin had roped me into.” You sigh, thinking back on the film.

It wasn't very good - shakily filmed, poorly acted, and the worst part was the kiss.

You shudder at the thought.

“I don't think this guy had ever even touched a woman, let alone kiss one.” You say, Christoph huffing a laugh as you continue. “I swear to you, he leaned in, misjudged how close my lips were, and licked my chin!”

Christoph laughs along with you, shaking his head.

“God, what a nightmare.” He says, and you feel him gently tap your heeled foot. You furrow your brow, still smiling.

“You know, Y/N, you're an excellent kisser.”

Christoph catches you off guard, and you find yourself a little breathless.

“And you blush so prettily, my God.”

Now you're really looking at him, at the way his eyes are fixed on your parted lips, how his left hand is lying face up and empty on the table.

Is this really happening? You think.

With only a slight bit of hesitance, you reach forward, the tips of your fingers grazing his.

It's all the permission he needs.

Christoph takes your hand in his, turning it so he can trace your palm with his thumb. His hand is warm, strong against your smaller, softer palm.

You bite your lip, looking at him through your lashes.

“You know, when we first met, I felt like a dirty old man.” Christoph says, tone soft yet playful.

“Here's this beautiful woman, half my age, and I get to ravish her for the camera.”

He lifts your hand, intertwining your fingers with his.

“You don't know how many times I've thought about that kiss.”

It's a confession, something that makes your breath hitch and your eyes lock onto his.

“Christoph,” You begin, shocked.

Christoph is looking at you, so sincerely, your heart aches.

“If I'm misreading this, please, tell me now.”

Christoph has been the object of your desire for weeks now, working with him day in and out a specific sort of torture you can't begin to explain.

Of course you want him.

You squeeze his hand.

“Will you take me back to your room?”

Christoph grins, something salacious in it that makes you want to kiss it off of him.

He takes the hand he's holding to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of it.

“Lead the way, liebling.”

*

*

*

Christoph has you up against the hotel room door, your dress pushed up over your thighs as he kisses you deeply.

You've never been with a man who kisses like Christoph does - with complete, sure confidence and finesse. It makes your insides hot and melt-y feeling, leaving you desperate for more.

Your hands clench into his white shirt, desperation filling all of your senses.

You want him so bad.

He pulls away slightly, eyes dark as he looks at the mess he's made of you.

“You'll let me have you, angel?” He asks, and you nod, eyes big as they take in the sight of him.

“Yeah?” He asks again, a slow, easy smile on his face.

“Yes.” You breathe.

He kisses you once, twice, three times before turning your body from the door, backing you up towards the bed.

“I've wanted to feel you for so long, beautiful girl.”

You pull the straps of your dress down, nipples hard in the cool air.

His eyes are immediately drawn to them, thumbs coming up to stoke at your nipples, the pads of them warm against your skin.

“Christoph,” you sigh, leaning up to kiss him again, one hand coming to tangle in his hair.

When you break for air, you move to slide your dress down your body, leaving in the black panties you had picked out for this occasion.

Christoph runs his hands down your body, eyes piercing as they take you in.

“God help me,” He mutters before leaning in, pressing you into the expensive hotel sheets.

You gasp, your naked back hitting the mattress with a surprising amount of force. You look up through your lashes at Christoph, who is leaning above you, undoing his belt hastily. You smirk, your hands sliding up his thighs and helping him with his fly.

“You wanna fuck me?” You tease, breathless.

Christoph swallows, his movement's slowing as he looks down at you.

“Liebling, fucking is for insolent, foolish boys.” He finally gets his pants down, boxers following soon after. Christoph leans down, and you think he's going to kiss you, but instead his lips find your ear.

“I'm going to make love to you, and believe me, you'll be thinking of me for weeks to come after I'm through with you.”

You feel yourself getting wet at his words, the promise of his dick finally getting inside of you, making you easy for it. Your legs fall open, Christoph making a home between them.

His face finds your neck, planting sweet, wet kisses to the skin there.

You want him inside you so badly, and you tell him as much, back arching when his fingers find your cunt.

“So soft, my beautiful girl,” He mutters, breathless as he rubs at your clit.

You close your eyes, hands scrabbling at his back.

“I want you, Christoph, please,” you beg, shameless.

He kisses you, silencing you. You get lost in the feeling of his hand on you, his lips devouring every moan and gasp he draws from you.

You huff, eyebrows furrowing as he rubs faster and faster on your clit.

“Oh my God-” You manage to gasp out, thighs clenching around his arm as you come.

Christoph works you through it relentlessly.

“There she is, that's my good girl. That's it.” He groans, forehead pressed to yours.

You whine, arching away from his fingers as the stimulation becomes too much.

“Please fuck me, please Christoph.”

He smiles, eyes meeting yours.

“I love the way you say my name.”

The two of you maintain eye contact as he enters you, agonizingly slow. You watch the way his breath catches, how his eyes flutter shut when his hips meet yours. That overwhelming, satisfying fullness makes you moan softly, hands gripping him close.

“You feel so good,” you tell him, all sorts of feelings bubbling up in you.

He rocks forward, hips meeting yours lovingly as he carves a home for himself in You.

Your eyes fall shut, head tilting back, and he sucks wet, lust filled kisses onto your neck.

The pace quickens, the headboard hitting the wall as you both grow frantic.

“You're going to come for me again, my angel, my pretty girl,” He pants, a hand coming up to brush your sweaty hair from your face. His palm is warm, and you tilt your head to kiss it.

“Yes,” your breath, hot, bubbling pleasure threatening to spill over you. “Make me come, please, please, Christoph-"

He groans, burying his face in your neck.

You wrap your legs around his back, wanting to keep him close, and the pleasure builds higher, higher, then-

“Fuck!”

You throw your head back, eyes closed and mouth agape as your second orgasm of the night overtakes you.

“Jesus, ich sterbe,” He groans, low and heady as he pumps you full of his come.

Christoph's hips stutter as your walls flutter around him, beckoning him further.

You hold him close to you as he rides out his orgasm, kissing his forehead.

Sighing and spent, he rests on top of you. You run your fingers through his hair, legs shaking as they unwrap from around his waist.

“Stay with me?” He asks quietly.

You put a hand under his chin, lifting it so your eye level.

You kiss him gently.

“I wouldn't want to be anywhere else.”

[bloobluebloo]

Got any hot 'TotK Rauru sucks and is bad' takes today? I keep seeing screenshots and art where he's looking all kindly and wise and am in the mood to see him roasted by one of Ganondorf's strongest soldiers.

Why thank you. As a professional Ganondorf spokesperson I am also a professional Rauru hater! This is true and factual as you must know.

-Rauru amputates Link's arm and replaces it with his arm without Link's consent, and then ALSO takes it away without Link's consent! What if he wanted to keep the ultrahand capabilities huh? What is up with that? Why does Rauru get to call the shots without asking?

-Rauru KNOWS about puppet Zelda and Ganondorf and does not even give Link A CLUE. "Oh, but if he tells you then there's no mystery to the game". Oh I'm sorry, it's not as if you find out very quickly who puppet Zelda is and then have to proceed spending the rest of the game pretending like you have noooooo idea why Zelda is acting so weird.

-How dare Rauru pretend he "passed on" when it is very clear that he didn't. YOU passed on YOUR problem to us and gave us your stupid arm so why not make yourself useful and be a companion! Afraid to face the guy you stuck your fingers in goatman?

-"Rauru was such a good dad to Zelda." Why, because he didn't directly berate her? When Zelda told him about her concern with Ganondorf his answer was "Oh I know he's evil so I will keep him close" and then dismissed the issue. Bitch this girl came from the FUTURE this is literally an OMEN. Do you not believe her concern to be serious???? Zelda is a ruler and respected in her own right yet in this Hyrule she was still relegated to "young naive princess who shouldn't worry about such things".

-"But isn't it kind of Rauru to remove that burden from her shoulders-" NO? She isn't a little girl who needs to be shielded! She just spent 100 years holding back the Calamity! She has gotten a golden opportunity to save her kingdom by killing its problem at the source! Treating her like a delicate tired woman who should rest when she is a leader, someone who put her own life on the line for a century and wants to save her kingdom is infantilizing and condescending actually.

-Also, why wasn't he there when Sonia and Zelda confronted Ganondorf? That either tells me he can't be bothered with this man OR that Zelda knew she had to take matters into her own hands and convinced Sonia to help her.

-The Rauru going off on hunts and needing Sonia to pull him back to his kingly duties pissed me off so bad. Dude, YOU'RE THE ONE WHO MADE UP THIS KINGDOM??? If you don't enjoy kingly duties don't make a stupid kingdom!

-People should really question why Rauru had military fortifications so close to Gerudo territory because remember, molduga can only travel through sand! People want to pretend that Ganondorf attacked completely unprovoked but if someone was building military fortifications along my borders while continuously sending me invitations to join this new kingdom I would, indeed, feel threatened. Peace? My ass Rauru it was "do it or else".

-Also, Rauru, it is actually really weird to send multiple invitations to another king, who has a kingdom, not to negotiate an alliance of equality but to demand fealty. Like that's another sovereign nation dude, you can't just have it because you are god's favorite child or whatever.

-"But Rauru was offering protection to those who joined Hyrule". Proetction from who??? If you have to make up a headcanon to justify this then it means that there is no reason given in game. I suppose the protection is from Rauru himself because you run the risk of being blasted by a laser if you don't kneel for Hyrule.

-Why is it that Ganondorf had enough ambition as a king to become so powerful with the secret stone that he could take on 7 secret stone wielders but Rauru, god's favorite child, a big fan of the power of light and friendship, and so concerned about bringing peace to Hyrule, could not do the same? I suppose he wasn't THAT committed to his vision of Hyrule. Call Ganondorf whatever you want, but he knew what he wanted and believed it deeply and the secret stone reflected that.

-WHY DID HE DOXX LINK LIKE THAT IS SUCH A NAIVE STUPID AND ASSHOLE MOVE!!!! KEEP YOUR ENEMIES IN THE DARK IDIOT!!!!

We love and stan an incompetent, quirky, naive king because those qualities are innocent! That's how this works right.

[beddybites]

hi friends! big rant incoming— i want to clarify this isnt targeted at anyone, im just noticing a pattern and im getting a little upset with some of the requests im being sent ):

something that really bothers me is the babyfication of giyuu tomioka. the fandom infantilizes the dude way too much. and its even worse when you throw shinobu into the mix and have her being a maternal figure to him when she herself is an eighteen year old who has worked as a hashira since she was a teenager. she does not need to be put into these situations where she’s taking care of her older peers all the time

i see this happen a lot and i feel its rooted in misogyny whether people recognize it or not. almost always the male characters are thrown into positions where the female character has to take care of them and its really frustrating

shinobu isnt a maternal character at all. to inosuke and the younger ones, it’s different, but if i keep seeing her being a mom to giyuu im actually going to lose my mind. giyuu isnt some uwu depressed baby who cant stand up for himself. he is just as mean as sanemi and obanai. he trained to survive and operate in horrible situations and fight for his life for years. hes a grown man and a hashira. he would not be babied by anyone, especially not someone who he has known since she was around fourteen years old

you may say “well ghostbite dont you do this with mitsuri and obanai”… sure. perhaps i am a hypocrite. but you must remember mitsuri is just sort of like that. she loves cute things and she loves fawning over everyone and everything. her scenes with nezuko. her introduction scene in the hashira meeting with her gushing over everyone. she hand feeds tanjiro pancakes in the recent season. she refers to people as “cutie.” etc etc etc

the difference with obanai and giyuu is obanai is often characterized as a yandere simp who is a huge bully to giyuu and tanjiro. he’s not. i like to put him in deaging situations a lot because unlike everyone else, he’s been through hell since birth. he’s never, not once, had a moment of peace. he had no siblings growing up to protect him— he had no loving parents, etc. he never felt love and he believes he is undeserving of it and should never reciprocate it. so here comes mitsuri, the epitome of love. he takes care of her. he watches after her. he is devoted to her. if something happens to him, especially if it’s a situation where he’s much smaller and weaker and in need of care, mitsuri would drop everything to help him. if it were mitsuri, obanai would do the same for her. it’s in both of their characters to do this. them being in these situations makes sense

i love shinobu. she would not. she does what a doctor does, looks for a cure, checks in here and there, and leaves it at that. she is not giyuu’s “mama.” she is an eighteen year old girl who has her own bucketload of issues. if you need her in a maternal role then use inosuke or literally any of the butterfly girls— the kids she actually takes in and takes care of. not her 21 year old coworker who is more than capable

if anything i think shinobu should be put in deaging situations. have giyuu take care of her instead. mix it up a little. but people are so attached to the idea of having every single caregiver role go to the woman that it’s unlikely we’ll see that

this is not a criticism on giyuu. i love giyuu. but i need people to stop treating him like a defenseless baby, and for people to quit seeing shinobu as responsible for him as a caregiver or a mother

tdlr: please stop asking me to draw or write deaged giyuu stuff. someone else can do that. i dont like deaged giyuu. tiny 21 trio is essentially on hold because of this ): i keep getting nonstop requests for deaged giyuu and im so tired, especially because people are framing it in a “you should replace obanai with giyuu” lens, or adding “mama shinobu doing x with baby giyuu”

it’s tiresome and frustrating. i love to make content for you guys, and i love when its something that appeals to you in a comforting way, but if you want specific content with giyuu— you’re very much in the wrong place. i hate the fandomification of him and shinobu— it makes me uncomfy and sad.

other people are deaging giyuu and putting him in situations— go ask them instead of me. i would rather highlight misunderstood and underrated characters like obanai and gyomei or my own personal faves (muichiro) then constantly loop the same exact character over and over again

all this to say im doubling down on the babybu and babynai and pintsized pillars aus. if you keep asking for baby giyuu and maternal figure shinobu my spite makes me stronger. hashtag let shinobu be taken care of for once. she’s already the doctor for an entire organization give my girl a break

[not-a-book-worm]

Yandere Platonic Adoptive Father & Mother w Teen!Reader

Warning: infantilization and slight captivity

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

You look at the small little girl you sorta knew getting adopted by a lovely couple. Everyone was saying goodbye to her and telling her to not forget anyone and they'll miss her. You felt envious for the little girl but at the same time you felt used too this. Every little kid getting adopting from this crappy orphanage and you just stuck here. You weren't so lucky when it came to adopting.

Since you are a teenager no one really wants you since no one wants to deal with a moody teen. Like who would choose a teen over a cute little kid? No one. But its not a bad thing... right? I mean less little kids to worry about here and there's more room but some part of you just wished you can just leave and never come back. You've been here since you were little, hoping your Mom will come back. Wherever she is... All you remember is her taking you here and leaving you and you begging and sobbing for her to come back but she didn't and she never did.

But you still had that little bit of hope in you she would come back for you so you were actually satisfied that no one wanted to adopt you even though it still makes you sad that no one wants you. So whenever someone tries to make a connection with you like the other kids here, you act cold and mean since you know they'll eventually get adopted and leave you here. But its not so bad being a loner here. You have peace and quiet but... it does get a bit lonely... But like always... you were used to it. But that all changed when they came...

It was just a normal day, you were just picking up some toys that the kids left on the ground just cleaning up until you see the head lady of the orphanage showing a couple around. You looked over at them slightly, you see a beautiful lady with blonde hair and green eyes wearing a red sun dress and a tall handsome man with black hair and blue eyes wearing a suit, you also notice he had a scar over his eye.

You were probably looking to long because then the lady looks back at you and you quickly look away. You then felt her staring at you for a long time and slightly see her patting on her husband's arm and now he was also looking at you in... shock? You then quickly walk off to go outside the back area of the orphanage. You then sat outside on the grass and started picking on the grass. You wonder what lucky little kid will get adopted by that couple.

But your thoughts were interrupted by a sweet voice. "What are you doing out here all alone sweetheart?" You jumped and turn to see the pretty lady in the red sun dress standing besides you. "o-oh just wanted some fresh air miss..." You said nervously. She just smiles at you sweetly. "Yes... it is a beautiful day" She then sits besides you. You felt kinda awkward around her. "Whats your name sweetie...?" You look at her slightly. "its umm.. y/n" Her eyes sparkles. "Thats a very unique name it suits you very well"

"Thanks..." You said awkwardly. You both then sit there quietly. You then asked her out of nowhere. "So... who did guys decide to adopt?" Stupid...! Stupid...! You thought. Why would you ask that?! "Oh... well my husband is signing the papers right now and we decided to adopt you..." You then froze from her words and you look at her in shock. "W-what...?" The lady then stands up and holds out her hand. "We are adopting you y/n... you're coming home with us" You then shook your head. "Y-you're joking right...?" The lady shakes her head and smiles.

"No... I am not.. We want you y/n.. The moment we laid eyes on you we knew you were the one.." You couldn't believe what you were hearing, they were acting going to adopt you?! Some part of you was happy but... some part of you was... slightly disappointed because you were still here waiting for your mom but looking at this women, you imagined yourself hugging her and her comforting you. You then felt yourself smile and you took her hand.

...

You look outside the window of the backseat of the car to see beautiful houses that was in a gated community. Your new father in the driver seat shows a card to the guard in front of the gate and he nodded and the gate opens. You were in awe on how amazing this was. You were going to live in a big house and have cool new parents! You then see your new home as your new father parked the car and your new mother quickly gets out of the car to open the door for you. She grabs your hands and she smiles brightly at you. "Welcome home sweetie!" Your new house was huge! It was a nice navy blue color and you can see there was tree and hanging on the tree branch was a swing.

You couldn't believe it... you actually had a place to call home. You suddenly felt tears come from your eyes. And you then feel arms wrap around behind you and look up to see your new father hugging you. You can see his slightly teary eyes. You then felt your new mother join in with the hug and she was crying with tears of joy. "We are going to take such great care of you... we promise..."

But sometimes happy moments don't last forever.

...

You were a couple of weeks in your new home. And things were nice at first... Your new mother and father showed you to your new room which was already decorated with almost all pink everything. And you felt grateful but... something about the room being a little too childish was a bit weird. They even told you to start calling them Mama and Papa which kinda made you feel like a toddler whenever you started calling them that but you just went along with it. But things started getting weirder when your mother started choosing your clothing and hair styles for you. She got you some dresses that were kind of made for little girls but the dress fitted you perfectly and she would put your hair in pigtails. You wanted to tell her that this isn't usually your style but you didn't wanna sound ungrateful so you just smiled at her and thanked her for your new clothes and doing your hair.

Even your new father was acting kinda weird around you, he would tell you to go outside so he can push you on the swing like you always loved to do... but you never even mentioned about you loving to swing on the swing. He would also get you plushies and it would be a specific type of plushie like a teddy bear or a kitty cat. You felt grateful for your gifts but he never even asked you what you like he only assumed you would like the plushies but again... you didn't want to sound ungrateful so you smile at him and thanked him.

You were walking around the house and you then stopped by a closed room. Your parents said you weren't really allowed to go in there and you asked why and they just said because its messy but you were curious what was in that room so your curiosity got the best out of you and you quietly opened the door. The room looked pretty normal to you as you walked in, it just had some junk like a couple of boxes and a white mirror. You then approached one of the boxes and opened one of them. You were surprised to see a photo album with a picture of small little girl in the front and title that said ROSIE. You guessed that was the girl's name.

You pick up the photo album and start flipping through it. SO many pictures of a small little baby and as you flipped more the baby grew into a cute little toddler and you stared at one of the pictures of the small girl on the swing being pushed by your new father. You look at the little girl's laughing face and your new father smiling brightly. You realized he hasn't really been all that smiley around you like he is in this picture, he seemed a bit... sad but whenever he was around you, you could see a small smile on his face.

You then see a couple of more photos of her and she was in the hospital bed and she didn't have any hair... A wave of sadness hits you when you realize that the little girl probably had cancer because as you flipped through the photo she looked more and more weak. And you finally made it to the last page of the book and it ends with a photo of her with her eyes closed as if shes.... You then flip back to the older photos of her when she was younger, where she looked happy and healthier.

You then felt yourself look at the white mirror that was in front of you and you took out one the pictures of the girl and faced it in front of the mirror. You sorta... looked like her. You had the same hair color as her, same eye color, and even your face shape. Then something hit you... But your thought was interrupted.

"Sweetie?! what are you doing in here?!" You turn to see your mother behind you looking at you as if you're a ghost. You quickly put everything back in the box and turn to face her. "I-I'm sorry Mama... I know you guys told me not to come in here but I was just so curious..." You sorta did feel guilty from coming in here as you looked down sadly. Your mother then walks up to you and kneels down in front of you as if you are a small child. "Its fine sweetie... just don't come in here again okay...? The dust can make you sick..." You nod and you grab her hand and headed out of the room....

...

It was nighttime and you were laying in bed thinking. Rosie... The way she looked like you somewhat and how everything you have seems to represent her in way... as if they... they were trying to make you become her, the thought of that made you feel hurt and angry. You bet the only reason they adopted you was because they wanted you to their perfect little daughter they had before... they didn't want you for you they only wanted you for their benefit to make it seem they never lost their daughter.

You sit up from the bed and went into the closet quietly trying to find your old clothes, you were sick of being treated like a little girl and wearing little girl stuff. You then found your clothes in a black bag that was probably meant to be thrown out and you change into your old clothes. Finally you felt better in something you would wear, you then go back into bed and fell asleep.

...

You come into the kitchen the next morning and sat on the table and your mother turns to smile at you but then stares at you for a bit when she realizes you aren't in your pj's you normally would wear. "O-oh good morning sweetie... how come you aren't in your pretty pajama dress of yours?" You didn't even wanna look at her and you just coldly say, "I didn't wanna wear it... I wanna wear my old clothes" and both of you went quiet and breakfast was pretty awkward after that.

Your father even noticed you were acting a bit weird when he asked you if you wanted to go play outside and he'll push you on the swing. You coldly say no and go into your room. You knew your parents noticed something was up but you didn't care you were too hurt and upset to care. During dinner, you guys were sitting on the dinner table supposedly eating your favorite dinner as your mother would tell you when calling you down for dinner. You just play with the food as your parents eat quietly but then your mother breaks the silence.

"Y/n... is everything ok? you seem a bit down..." You then put down your fork hard on the table you couldn't hold it in anymore. You look up at both of them angrily. "ok...? well I am not okay with the fact you guys only adopted me because you just want me to be some copycat of your daughter that you lost!" Both of them froze when you say that and your mother looks away from you and she starts crying a little and your father then speaks. "Thats not true... We only adopted you because we love you just the way you are..." You get up from your chair. "If you guys loved me then you guys would want to get to know me! You guys don't even know my favorite color!" Your mother sniffles and says, "We do... its pink" You then snapped. "No its not! its her favorite color not mine! My favorite color is f/c!" You then storm off ignoring your mother cries and your father pleading you to come back to the dinner table and you slam your bedroom door.

...

You pack some stuff in your backpack and you put it on. Your so called adoptive parents didn't even bother to come tuck you in. Guess you got under their skin, you felt a bit guilty mentioning their old daughter to them but you needed to let out some steam to them but you decided its best you don't live here anymore. You were tired of being treated like some doll... You quietly open your bedroom door and you see the house is quiet and you quietly shut the bedroom door. You walk through the house quietly and make it to the front door. You then quietly open it and lock it and shut the door.

You felt the night air hit you as you walk away from the house, now you needed to figure out how to get out through the gated neighborhood since there's guards guarding the gate. You then walk down the neighborhood to go to the gate until you saw some group of boys on their bikes just hanging out and you see one of them look at you and laugh. You felt a bit embarrassed but you just walk past them until you felt something grab your backpack.

"Well well what do we have here...? The new adopted girl who gets treated like a princess" You look to see one of the biker boys grabbing you by your backpack. "Oi let me go!" You say to him angrily and you then see the rest of the boys circling around you and you start feeling nervous. "P-please... just leave me alone" You managed to speak out. Before anything could happen a gruffy voice can be heard calling to you guys. "You kids know guys shouldn't be out here this late!"

All the boys started running off and you get pushed to the ground. You look up to see a guard looking down at your disappointingly. Before you knew it, you were at your front door with the guard standing by you and he knocks. Your father and mother open the door and look at you in surprise. "Your daughter was out with those boys..." The guard says to your adoptive parents. You then were guided inside by your mother and your father thanked the guard.

You were sitting on the couch and both of your parents were... angry you never seen them angry at you before and it sorta scared you. "What were you thinking?! Being out with those kind of boys 3 in the morning?! What do you have to say for yourself?!" Your father yells to you and you slightly flinch from his yell. "I-I wasn't hanging out with those boys... I was running away..." You mumbled. All of you guys were silent for what it felt like an eternity but then your mother speaks sadly to you. "W-why would you want to run away...?" Your guilt got to you when you heard her heart broken voice and you at your father he looked hurt.

"Y-you guys just wanted me because of your sake... I am not Rosie... and I never will be..." You felt your eyes getting teary. "If you guys just want to unadopt me because of that... t-then that's fine with me..." You felt yourself cry in front of them, all you ever wanted was someone to love you... to love you just the way you are but of course they either leave you or you don't have what they want. As you cried softly you felt strong arms wrap around you and your head resting against someone's chest. You slightly look to see your father hugging you like he did the first time when you first came here

And you felt your mother hug you tightly. "y/n... we would never in a million years unadopt you... we love you so much... you are our whole world... and we are so so sorry if we ever made you feel like we only loved you because you look like Rosie... We are still grieving over her but you're right... you're not her... you're y/n... and we love you for who you are... we love you so much y/n... our baby..." Your mother says softly to you and kisses you gently on your forehead. You instantly start sobbing into their arms, hugging them tightly. You felt them hugging you tightly back not wanting to let you go.

Just feeling them around you, hugging you tightly felt so comforting. Its been so long since you had a hug like this. You then were carried by your father who you were hugging so tightly to their bedroom. You then were laid down their bed snuggled between them. You felt like a little kid laying on their bed with them but you didn't care. You just wanted to feel their love as you heard your mother hum to you and your father rub your head softly. You then fell asleep.

...

Things were a bit better after that. They didn't make you wear pink dresses anymore and they asked what YOU wanted. They truly gotten to know you but every since you tried to run away they been a bit overbearing like always being around you and constantly checking on you even when you're in the bathroom you hear your mother or father knocking on the door to check how you are doing. You started to feel annoyed but you thought things would tone down a bit after awhile but it doesn't.

You realized that they got security cameras ALL over the house except your room (hopefully), there's an alarm by the door so if you would try to run away again the alarm would go off, and all the windows have locks on them. You thought this was too much and you tried talking to them about it but they said its for the best and its for your safety. What even got you pissed more was when they decided it was best that you didn't go outside by yourself anymore and that one of them needs to watch you. Meaning you couldn't go out by yourself.

"Please you can take my freedom away! I promise I won't do anything that I shouldn't!" You begged to them when they were tucking you in bed. "Like we said y/n this is for your safety... we don't know what we would do if anything were to happen to you.. just trust us ok..?" Your mother says softly. You don't say anything back to them and turned away from them. You felt your mother and father kiss you on the cheek and your father says "Get some rest y/n... We love you..." You then hear the door shut and even heard a lock click indicating they added a lock to your door.

[kisakis-boyfriend]

Autistic Headcanons for Kinich & Ororon

As a disclaimer I am autistic and I tend to HC my favorite characters as autistic also, whether there's any canon evidence or not. However, I do think there's a LOT of evidence pointing towards these two being autistic. These are a mix of canon and my own personal opinion. So, here we go 👉

Kinich

• Logic and reasoning > emotions

• Doesn't understand social cues or rules, but tries to play along

• Kinich is great at noticing social cues though. The kind of person who doesn't say much but hears a lot

• He will occasionally use a script, but for the most part, Kinich can wing it during a conversation

• "Too Much" Eye Contact 👁️👁️

• Mainly because his father berated him for not making eye contact as a child. So, he overcompensates now by never breaking eye contact

• Strangers claim that Kinich has a resting bitch face, and there are plenty of people who will either avoid him or act rude because they think he's rude by default

• Kinich doesn't stim a lot, and especially not around other people, but he will tap his foot when he's bored or anxious

• One of his happy stims is raising his shoulders. Sort of similar to shrugging, or stretching the muscles?

• If he were to use modern day fidget toys, I think he'd like tactile ones. Like a fidget cube, pop-its, or something. Lots of textures and things to run his fingers over, scratch at, or press and click

• Fidget toys that have lights or make lots of noise are no-gos. Get that shit out of here

• Special interests are Saurians and, to an extent, physical exercise

Ororon

• What the hell are social cues? Or norms? What do you mean there are rules? Huh????

• Ororon isn't dumb by any means, but he can appear naive or easily suggestible to strangers

• Obviously, his special interests are vegetables/gardening and aphids

• Constantly compares situations or things to his special interests so that he can better understand them

• He stims with his fingers or his head a lot. Like tilting his head to the side, bobbing along like there's music playing (there probably is in his head), cracking his joints, and flexing his fingers

• Not super picky with textures, but when he does discover a Wrong Texture™ he will yeet it far, far away 😐

• If he were to use modern fidget toys, I think he'd enjoy softer, squishy ones. Stress balls/other shapes, bean bags, firm stuffed animals that hold their shape but are still soft enough to squish

• I feel like Ororon would also appreciate picture books? He likes having visuals while he reads

• He has a somewhat low social battery. Ororon will socialize just fine, but if he can't go back to the peace and quiet of his vegetables for an extended period of time then he may act grumpy or tired

• Unfortunately, the kind of guy that people will infantilize

• Ororon is routinely treated as a weird helpless child that people need to watch over, despite the fact that he's a grown adult man. They never say that out loud though. It's mainly shown through actions

[pineconepie]

yandere english prof?

Sorry this took so long, its been sitting in my drafts forever LOL. Here you go! I actually really like this one haha.

TW: Violence, blood (not detailed), injuries, bullying, light forced infantilization, parental yandere, manipulative yandere, implied extortion

Everyone hated your English professor, Ellis, but you never understood the hate he received. Practically day one, everyone was complaining about how mean he could be or how unfair or harsh his grading was.

At first, you believed them, not really knowing the professor well enough to come to his defense. He seemed to have a no-nonsense attitude with you just as much as everyone else.

It wasn't really until one day, when some guys of a nasty fraternity came in and began harassing you.

You had always ignored it, but it became more impossible to ignore when one of them tripped you on your way into the class.

"Jerk," you grumble under your breath, watching him saunter off with a laugh. You feel blood dripping down your nose.

You grab your phone to see if it looks bad, and sure enough, it does. If the pain in your face weren't indicating you landed straight on it, then the blood trailing down your nose and forming bruise on your eye were.

After wiping your face clean as best as you can, you continue your trek back to class.

Sure, it'd probably be a better idea to email your professor and explain to him what happened, but knowing how harshly he can treat students, you'd rather get the attendance than email him about something he might not even believe is true.

And so, you stumble through the halls with blood dried at the corners of your nostrils, one eye looking swollen with the other's vision blurred from crying earlier.

A black eye must already be forming. A few people give you odd looks, but almost everyone else minds their own business. Soon enough, you finally enter your classroom.

"You're three minutes late," Ellis coldly says as soon as you step through the door.

He isn't even looking at you, probably just figures its you, because his eyes are on a few papers.

"I-I'm sorry." Your voice cracks. You wince from the sound of it.

Ellis's gaze immediately shoots up at you. He looks baffled and furious at first. "What on earth happened to you?"

He makes a hand gesture for you not to answer that, and looks back at the several rows of students, some of which are paying attention to the situation, but most are talking to their friends or on their phones. He puts his head down and begins writing something on a small piece of paper, then walks to you and hands it to you.

As you grab the note, his hand squeezes over yours. He lets go after you look at him. "Take it. Go. Come back when you get something for that."

You nod quickly, then glance down at the paper to see that there's a pass.

 Medical office, Room 305

He even went as far as to write the room number in case you forgot.

Thankful for that and everything else, you smile a little and make your way out the door, making sure not to get harassed again by some bully on your way.

Now that you really think about it, he's been having more of a soft spot for you recently, though maybe that's all in your head, too.

Like when you offered to help him clean up the room, and once you even stayed after class to ask him for help regarding what he was teaching.

Even though he could be intimidating sometimes, and downright frightening at others, you didn't find yourself scared around him. Only when he raises his voice, which he never does towards you.

Once you make it to the medical office and have the nurse inspect the damage, she determines that nothing is broken, just badly bruised.

You don't want to tell her that this incident was caused by bullies, so you just awkwardly tell her you fell down some stairs. She likely doesn't get paid enough to snuff out your lie.

She hands you an ice pack. "There," she smiles. "Not so bad. Try to watch where you're going next time, okay?"

Her condescending tone makes you feel worse. "Yes, ma'am. Thank you."

You apply pressure to your black eye as instructed, then head back to your English class.

When you get back inside the room, no one is there except Ellis. You check your phone, to see barely thirty minutes has passed. Maybe he sent them home early.

"Hi. I'm here." Your voice cracks again and you can't help but cringe. It sounds horrible, even to your own ears.

He looks up at you, brows pinching together in concern as soon as his eyes meet yours. He doesn't speak; he only pats the seat nearest to him on the front row of desks, gesturing for you to take a seat beside him.

Once you do, his cold fingers brush under your bruised eye. It should hurt, but they are so gentle against your skin that you barely flinch away from them.

"Who did this?" Ellis's gaze becomes narrow behind his round glasses.

You shake your head, suddenly feeling sick at your stomach. You hate how these kinds of things happen to you, especially since everyone else thinks they're harmless pranks.

They don't feel harmless. Especially when it feels like they leave physical and mental wounds everywhere on you.

"Nobody. I'm sorry."

He tuts in disapproval. "I know someone did this. Either you tell me, or I find out myself."

"Why do you care?" It sounds much more rude than you intended, so you try to soften your tone. "I'm sorry, its just... why would it matter if someone did?"

Ellis pinches the bridge of his nose. "Because you're too sweet. Too kind. It isn't fair that people treat you this way." He gives you another look over. "I dismissed my class today because of you, you know. I wouldn't do that for any of my other students, because they don't like me. And honestly, I don't really like them. But you..." he trails off.

"...but me?" you echo.

He scrubs a hand over his face. "You're like my child, (Y/n). It's my job as a professor to treat my students fairly, equally, but when it comes to you..." he sighs deeply, "...I worry about you every day. I wonder if you ate breakfast. If you've had anything to drink recently. How you slept. If anyone hurts you. None of my other students I let help me after class. Because if you're in front of my own two eyes, it's easier to just stop worrying. And I like being around you."

The information almost overwhelms you. "I had no clue."

"Well, now you do. So could you please tell me who did this? I'll have a heart attack if you worry me any more than I need to," he jokes with a weak smile, a very rare one.

"Just some guy from Delta Psi Lambda," you answer quickly. "I think his name was Brock, or something."

"I'll take care of him. Now, how's your eye?" As soon as you pull away the ice pack, he sucks in a harsh breath. "(Y/n). Oh, honey. It must be painful."

The term of endearment almost goes right past your head.

Almost.

"I mean, yeah. A little," you chuckle, trying to play it off. Really, it feels awful. "It doesn't feel too great, but it looks worse."

"It's bruising. Poor thing," he coos, taking your chin into his long, bony fingers and turning your head left and right, analyzing all of the damage. "This is unacceptable. Does anywhere else hurt?"

"No, this is all." You try to shrug again, but it comes out weird-looking. You can tell he catches it, too. "My nose was bleeding a lot earlier, but it stopped. Other than that, I guess everything else feels okay."

Ellis grabs a tissue and wipes off the leftover drying blood. His movements are careful yet firm, as if you would shatter to pieces if he wasn't gentle enough. "What am I going to do with you?" he sighs. "Can't trust you for even a moment before you're already coming back to me hurt." He presses a soft kiss on the crown of your head. "Do you need me to drive you back home?"

"I live on campus," you murmur. "I can just walk there."

He raises a brow at you. "That means they could just get you again if I let you go alone," he chastises. "Come on, follow me." He stands up, putting the papers into his work bag, then swinging it over his shoulder. He holds his free hand out and waits patiently for you to grab onto it, then he helps hoist you up.

As he does, your backpack slides down one arm. You watch as he puts it over his shoulder with his workbag, too.

...

A week passes, and Ellis is much softer towards you. He isn't as fatherly to you in front of people, but its pretty obvious that you've become the favorite.

He keeps asking if you have any food or drinks, and when you don't, he pulls out his lunchbox and offers whatever you need. You're not complaining. Free lunches are always good to accept.

"I don't need to eat lunch in here all the time now," you mumble, chewing on your favorite fruit that he offered. Weird that he knew that, but surely a coincidence.

Ellis pauses from what he's doing, which is erasing the whiteboard, and peers at you from the corner of his eye. "Why? Do you dislike spending time with me?"

You shake your head. "No, it's not that. I just... I think the bullies will leave me alone now. I haven't even seen any of the fraternity's faces since the incident."

"That doesn't mean I still can't worry about you," Ellis replies coolly. "You even forgot your lunch several times now. It worries me. I need to make sure you eat properly." The marker squeaks against the board as he writes reminders for next class's essay. Once he finishes that task, he sets everything down and heads to sit down at his desk. "I always pack extra for you now, because you're so forgetful. And thank goodness I do."

"Okay, Professor Dad," you sarcastically laugh.

He shakes his head at you while looking amused, making your words die in your throat.

That was clearly meant to be a joke, so why is he smiling like that?

Well, you know the answer, but it's still hard to believe. Even though Ellis seems to really care about you, he hasn't known you for very long at all.

So, why would he start acting so... so dad-like towards you? What exactly happened to turn him from the stern and rigid teacher persona into an almost doting father-figure towards one of his students?

"I-I didn't really mean—"

"I know. I get it," he says softly. "Just humor me. Let me keep fussing over you." After that, he falls quiet, working on grading some papers from earlier classes that day.

...

"You didn't bring a jacket?" Ellis asks exasperatedly. He's walking you to your dorm again after class ended, since it snowed.

Normally, you would've gone yourself, but due to the cold weather and Ellis's demands for you to stay in his classroom until he finished getting ready to walk you himself, you couldn't exactly refuse.

You look over at him, finding that his brows are pinched together in concern. "Oh, uh, no. I guess I forgot."

"For Pete's sake," he mutters, tugging the scarf from his neck and wrapping it snugly around yours instead. "I swear, you'll be the death of me one day, (Y/n). Can't even remember a simple thing like bringing a jacket." Despite sounding mad, there's also a tone of fondness mixed in with it.

You decide not to mention it, feeling embarrassed just thinking about it.

"Thanks," you hum.

"I don't mind doing things for you, you know," he adds after a moment. "I wanted to have kids of my own, but found out romance wasn't really my thing. And adoption costs way more money than what I have." He lets out a huff through his nostrils. "But it seems like you require the same doting as a toddler."

It doesn't even sound like its meant to be a jab at you; if anything, his voice takes on an affectionate edge.

"Is that bad?" you ask sheepishly.

"Not to me." He squeezes your hand, pulling you along beside him to cross the street. As soon as you reach your dorm and go inside, he dusts snowflakes off the top of your head. "That's better." You try to unwrap the scarf, but he stops you. "Keep it. I have several others like it. Besides, I don't want you catching a cold from being under-dressed."

You smile awkwardly. "Oh, okay. Thank you."

...

A month passes, and your friends had begun to avoid you. Even the bullies act scared to show their faces around you.

You wonder if its just Ellis's mere presence, but it's hard to tell. You decide a few days avoiding Ellis and trying to spend time with your friends again wouldn't hurt. You figure Ellis won't even notice too much, busy with papers and classes.

You notice Ellis giving you strange looks during class, but other than that, he acts normal. It's nice to feel like things are going back to the way they used to be again.

Barely a week after avoiding him, you hear someone yell your name.

But it isn't Ellis. It's Brock, and three of his other friends.

"Haven't forgotten what you did to me yet, did you? Because of you, I was nearly expelled!" he screams. Then, Brock runs towards you, fist flying directly towards your stomach and hitting you hard. You groan, then fall forward when one of his friends pushes you. "Hope you had fun trying to get rid of me, because you're gonna regret it!"

They get a few more punches in, and you can't even do anything about it because there's so many of them. You desperately look for anyone to be around, but there's no one.

"Stop!" someone yells.

You open your eyes from their previous screwed shut state, peering over at the man in glasses running towards you. Its Ellis.

He helps pull you away from all the frat guys, glaring down at each of them.

They must have some common sense, because they all freeze at the sight of Ellis. He barks something at them, but you can't pay attention over the ringing in your ears.

As soon as they begin sprinting off in the other direction, Ellis scoops you up bridal style and carries you somewhere.

You try opening your eyes to see where, but as soon as you manage to pry one open, he brushes his fingertips over your forehead.

"Don't stress yourself, love. Just rest." You close your eyes, and fade out from exhaustion.

...

You wake up in Ellis's apartment. It smells so clean, like it's never been lived in. Everything is so neatly organized, and nothing is out of place.

Not even a speck of dust lays on the windowsills or countertops. It seems like something straight out of a catalog.

You push yourself up into a sitting position, wincing from the pain in your arms and abdomen. Your lower back aches and twinges, too.

"Oh! Kiddo, please be careful!" You turn your head slowly towards Ellis's voice. He's holding some ice packs, water bottles, and bandages. His sweater vest has been changed for a plain gray shirt. "I'm glad you're finally awake. Let me take a look at you."

"What happened? Why am I here?"

He gives you a strange look. "You got beat up. Again," he emphasizes, clearly frustrated. "And you were so banged up that I brought you back to my place. I thought maybe I shouldn't take you back to your dorm, because you have no one who could take care of you." He clicks his tongue. "And besides that, you haven't come to me lately, and you're avoiding me. Now, you just got attacked again because I wasn't around to protect you."

You sniffle and in a sudden motion, wrap your arms around his neck. It surprises both you and him, but he's quick to embrace you twice as tightly.

His fingers curl into your hair, his other hand rubbing your back comfortingly.

"Hey, hey, shh..." He squeezes you. "Sweetie, calm down for me. You're going to hyperventilate if you breathe any quicker."

"I-I'm sorry... I d-didn't think th-they'd ever b-bother me again...!"

"Shh, breathe for me. Follow my rhythm." He takes deep breaths, waiting each time for you to follow. "That's right. You're such a good listener." Ellis cups your cheek and rubs away a few stray tears from it. He notices your breathing returned back to normal, so he smiles, placing a tender kiss to the crown of your head. "I've missed having you around."

"I'm sorry."

"That's alright. Now that I have you again, you're safe." He gets up, then walks to the kitchen. "Let me fix you something warm. You need it after today, poor baby."

As he cooks, you drift in and out of consciousness yet again. He chuckles when he notices you're basically passed out once again.

His phone rings. He scoffs, but answers it.

"What do you want? Yes, yes... you'll no longer need to worry about getting expelled for what you did... no, I'm not thanking you. Now please delete this number and never talk to them again. If I catch you even looking at them, I really will make sure you're suspended."

[demonslayerunhinged]

SaneGiyuu Argument 3 - 'They hate each other!'

@roseameilatempest made an amazing and thorough analysis of Sanemi's complicated feelings about Giyuu.

I'll make my analysis from Giyuu's point of view. Giyuu doesn't hate Sanemi and I have no idea where antis got that vibe from when everything about his interactions with Sanemi shows that he desires a connection with him.

So let's start from the beginning.

Season 1 Episode 22

Giyuu ignores the hounding of the other Hashiras about Tanjiro and Nezuko.

Looks off to the side, not saying anything, just ignoring them for the most part.

Until that is, he hears the sexy voice of his boo.

Then we see him respond by sneaking a glance, hmmmmmm. He wouldn't do that if it was the voice of someone he hated. You might say that he sensed that Sanemi was carrying Nezuko's box but no, Giyuu doesn't have super hearing or smell like Zenitsu or Tanjiro. It was Sanemi's voice he responded to.

During the Taisho secret segment, the only time he talks is to tease Sanemi, he wouldn't do that if he hated him.

Light Novel 2 - One-Winged Butterfly, Chapter 5

The Master expressed his worry that Giyuu doesn't smile and requested for the Hashiras to make him do so in hopes that Giyuu will bond with the rest of the group. The hashiras try various methods to make Giyuu laugh and fail including Mitsuri who TICKLES Giyuu! I wish I could see that scene get animated 😂

Shinobu then gets the idea to ask Sanemi to ask Giyuu ou- I mean, ask him to eat his favorite food salmon stewed with daikon with him. It's funny how shinobu went to Sanemi when she would have easily gone to Rengoku, Mitsuri or even Uzui who love to go out and eat but no she asks Sanemi. My theory is that she knows Giyuu likes Sanemi and eating his favorite food with his crush will definitely make him happy.

But of course, it doesn't go well.

Giyuu wouldn't even think of going to eat with Sanemi if he hated him.

Season 5 Episode 1

Giyuu has no problem talking back to and making fun of Sanemi, Sanemi is literally the only one he makes the effort to talk to of his own volition. It's almost like a guy teasing his crush.

Again, if he hated Sanemi he wouldn't bother talking to him.

Season 5 Episode 7

Now this is where the main shit is so let's break it down. First take a look at Giyuu's body language. Giyuu is known to be a stoic dude, even when he's not around people or around people he's comfortable with like Tanjiro(bestest boy ❤) he always has a calm and collected demeanor.

But after the encounter with Sanemi, he seems so small and unsure. This is Giyuu at his most vulnerable.

It makes sense that he allows Tanjiro to see this part of him due to them growing closer since episode 2.

In this scene look how his eyes close in sadness/pain when he talks about Sanemi being angry.

Then he comes up with the weird idea to put ohagi in his sleeve to give to Sanemi the next time he meets him. Look how his smile softened when he pictures Sanemi's smile. Yep, pure hatred. I too smile fondly when I picture my enemy's smile as I give them their favorite food.

Side note: there's this weird thing online where I see people infantilizing Giyuu in that uwu-he-just-wants-a-fwend way and just no. Like yeah, the way he was drawn in this entire exchange is cute but he's still a grown man. He's not being all cute uwu at making a friend, he is attracted to Sanemi. Tanjiro (bestest boy ❤) has the expression of someone who wants to make Sanemi his friend, Giyuu does not.

Also, food and sharing food with loved ones is a big deal in Japan and by extension Demon Slayer(I plan to make a post about it). It's a way to express love and build connections. So it makes sense that Giyuu sees the ohagi as a way to connect with Sanemi since words fail him.

So anyway that all I have as evidence - NOT!

Light Novel 2 - One-Winged Butterfly, Chapter 5(again!)

This takes place right after Tanjiro(bestest boy ❤) got punched by Sanemi. He's training with Giyuu and they decide to take a break and talk....about Sanemi.

When their conversation gears towards the training, Giyuu abruptly asks about Tanjiro's(bestest boy ❤) restraining order.

After recounting the story where the other Hashiras were trying to make him laugh, he asks

And Tanjiro(bestest boy ❤) responds

And guess what he does in the future

In Conclusion, this argument can also kiss my ass!

Edit:

The hashira trying to make Giyuu smile and Giyuu talking about Sanemi with Tanjiro(bestest boy ❤) actually happened in the second light novel One-winged Butterfly not the first Flowers of Happiness, I've made corrections. My mistake, sorrry!

[obvithe-bestsoph]

my best friend.

masterlist requests word count: 3.7k (if this flops, i'll cry)

a/n: it's 3am right now, and i have to be up at 7:30, but here, have this. no seriously, if it flops, i will cry. yes, this is in fact me asking you to like it 😭. genre: fluff, childhood best friends to lovers. warnings: they kiss? literally nothing graphic lol. safe for everyone.

Wednesday, 18th of August, 2010. 3 years old.

Your mama has been a stay-at-home mother your whole life, but recently she has decided that she wants to return to work since you’re a little older, meaning that you need somewhere to go during the day, and that place was Infantil 1-3 años, and today is your first day. You had cried quite a lot when your mama had left you this morning, not really ever having been away from her much, but when you eventually realised that she wasn’t coming back any time soon, you plonked yourself down on a small chair in a quiet corner of the colourful classroom. 

For a while, you sat there watching. The kids here are quite noisy and a bit dirty, but the toys look fun, and so does the playground outside, there’s a big patch of grass where some kids are playing with a football, and some others playing tag. Maybe this place isn’t so bad.

Your thoughts are interrupted by a small hand waving across your line of vision, trying to get your attention. Your eyes follow the hand, up their arm, over their shoulder, and to their face. It was a little boy, he had a big smile and short brown hair.

“Hola!” he says cheerfully. “On són els teus amics (where are your friends)?” 

“Sóc nou, no en tinc (i’m new, i don’t have any).” you reply.

He then sticks his hand out to you, waiting for you to hold it.

“I’m Pau Cubarsí Paredes, and we’re best friends now.” he states simply as you link your small hands together. You smile a little, and nod. “Vale (okay). My name is Y/N.”

“Alright, Y/N, let’s go out and play.” he grins, hands still holding each other’s hands as you two run outside smiling. He brings you to where the big patch of grass is, he starts to join in, when someone calls out to him,

“Qui és, Pau (who is that, pau)?”

Pau smiles proudly and calls back to the boy, “This is my best friend, Y/N.”

Thursday, 10th of September, 2011. 4 years old.

After you and Pau whining and whining at your mothers’, tonight, you’re having a sleepover. You’re going to share a bed with Pau, which you weren’t too happy with to start off with, but after Pau tells you that it’ll be alright, because then you can keep each other safe from the monsters, it doesn’t seem so bad anymore.

When you finally arrived at Pau’s house, he was already outside in the back garden, playing with the football he got for his birthday in January. You both really like football, and actually, that’s kind of the whole reason for this sleepover in the first place. Tonight, FC Barcelona is playing Real Sociedad, and you’re gonna watch it together on TV. 

Pau’s mother takes your bag of things that your mother had packed for the night, and while the two women chat in the kitchen, you run outside to see Pau. “Pau!”

“Y/N!” he runs up and gives you a quick hug. “Do you wanna play?” “Of course, I want to play. Don’t be silly.” you giggle, and steal the ball off of him, shooting it into the invisible goal at the end of the garden, and running to give him a high five in celebration. 

It only feels like 10 minutes to you guys, but hours later, Pau’s mama calls you back inside for dinner and the game starts. You run in, wash your hands as required, take your plates and sit on the floor in front of the TV, just in time to see the teams walking out of the tunnel. 

Sadly, you guys aren’t allowed to watch the whole game as it runs too late for little kids like you, despite both of your protests that you’re ‘big kids’ now. However, you get sent up to bed anyway, with the promise of his parents telling you the final score in the morning. 

It feels a bit odd going to bed without your mama’s cuddles and your papa’s special stories, but you don’t say anything and just let Gloria tuck you in next to Pau and kiss your forehead good night.

“Bona nit els meus petits amors, ens veiem al matí (good night my little loves, see you in the morning).” she says, and then quietly leaves the room and shuts the door behind her, leaving you and Pau alone.

You both lay in silence for a while, which only leaves you time to think about how much you miss your parents. “Pau?” “Yeah?” your bottom lip starts to wobble.

“I miss my mama and papa.” he panics, seeing you’re about to cry.

“Hey, don’t cry amiga, it’ll be okay. You have me. Do you want a cuddle with Monkey? He’s like… magic.” Pau tries to help, offering you his special monkey stuffie, his equivalent of those security blankets kids have. 

You shake your head and the first hot, fat tear slides down your cheek. Well now this is really out of Pau’s ballpark. He quickly scoots closer to you and wraps his small arms around your body. “Està bé (it’s okay).” he pulls you a bit closer and you snuggle into him. His cuddles always make you feel better, and vice versa.

“I love you, Y/N. You’re my best friend, and I’ll give you loads and loads of hugs until you stop crying.”

Monday, 21st of September, 2013.

Today is your first day of big school. In Spain, it’s called Primero (year 2/1st grade). Or that’s what your mama said anyway. You were so glad because Pau’s going too. It would be scary by yourself. The new school is very different from Infantil, it’s big and there are lots of older kids there too. As you walk through the gates, carrying backpacks that are practically bigger than the size of your small bodies, you start to walk towards where the lady in front of you is telling you to go, not letting go of each other’s hands a single time.

The new classroom is bigger, just like everything else here, but the teacher lady up the front seems nice enough. But unlike at Infantil, you don’t just put your bag on the hook and then go off and play until you get called in to eat, you put your bag in a cubby hole and then you have to go and sit at a table and wait for the teacher to start talking. It’s weird. You both want to go outside, but she says no. Hmph. 

The first thing you have to do is sit in a circle on the floor for “Talking Time,” where you have to say your name, how old you are, and something about yourself. Both being fairly shy around people that aren’t each other, you and Pau hold hands the whole time, even when one of you is speaking. Pau goes first and nervously starts talking, “Uh, hola, my name is Pau, I’m six, and my fact is that I really like football.” 

Then it’s your turn, you panic, but a squeeze of Pau’s hand brings you back down. “M-my name is Y/N, I’m six too, and my fact is that I always watch and play football with Pau.”

You nod your head proudly, and Pau smiles at you, the little girl starts to talk next to you, but neither of you is paying attention to her. You put Pau’s hand in your lap and draw invisible little pictures on his palm with your finger.

Then you have to sit back at the tables and are given a piece of paper and a pencil. On the piece of paper is your name, which apparently today, you’re learning how to write. 

You get a bit frustrated when Pau does better at it than you, but keep practicing anyway.

“This is too hard.” you huff, trying again. Pau pats your hand and reassures you.

“It’s not ‘too’ hard, you just gotta do it again.” you huff and continue on.

After that, you have to start learning how to count. The class sits on the floor in a circle again, and in a chorus, repeats after the teacher. “Un, dos, tres, quatre, cinc (one, two, three, four, five)…” Pau decides he likes numbers more than letters, but you decide letters are better than numbers. Everyone has their strengths, right? 

After what feels like forever of counting to five, then six, then seven and so on, finally, your lunch break comes and you’re allowed outside again. You want to go and play football, but the kids here are a lot bigger and scarier, so you stay sitting close to each other in a corner of the playground. An older kid, from a few years above, in Tercero (year 4/3rd grade), calls out to you, teasingly. “Oi, is that little girl your girlfriendddddd?!” he grins. 

Pau and you frown, and hold hand a little tighter, “Girlfriend? No. This is my best friend, Y/N.”

Thursday, 24th of March, 2016. 9 years old.

“Come onnnnnn, Y/N. Si us plau (please)?” Pau whines, complaining as he just lost yet another 1v1 against you. 

“Nope. A loser’s a loser. No rematches.”

“What?! But I wasn’t ready!” he cries.

“Then why’d you say ‘Yeah, vale, go.’ when I asked if you were ready?”

“Uhhh…”

“Exactly. Now, I’m gonna go inside because it’s hot and your mama said she bought ice cream. Pau perks up at the mention of ice cream and is racing ahead of you to get there first.

“Hey! Wait for me!” you call, dashing after him. 

When you reach the kitchen, Pau is already sitting at one of the stools in front of the island, his mama scooping balls of ice cream into two bowls. She then goes into the pantry to get sprinkles but realises there’s only enough for one person. Pau is quick to call dibs but is then almost immediately scolded by his mother. “Pau, remember how we talked about being a gentleman? Let Y/N have them.” He mumbles and grumbles, but you shake your head.

“It’s okay Gloria, we can share. Right, Pau?” Pau’s face lights up again and he nods quickly. The woman laughs and puts a tiny amount of sprinkles over both bowls and pushes them across the counter so they’re in front of you. You both dig in quickly and a moments later, Pau speaks up again, mouth full,

“Thank you for sharing.” “That’s okay. I thought you might need something to cheer you up after I bet you so many times.” you tease, and he rolls his eyes at you bringing it up again.

“I told you it was because I wasn’t ready!” 

Now it’s your turn to roll your eyes, still smiling though, “Uh-huh, sure.”

Irene, Pau’s older sister walks in, being used to you two by now, she doesn’t even bat an eye at your bickering and teasing. Irene’s 4 years older than us, 13, she’s cool, but you aren’t particularly close to her as you two are quite different from each other. But she will ‘babysit’ you and Pau on occasion, so she’s chill. 

She scolds Pau for rocking on his chair, fixes his hair, gets a snack, huffs, and walks out again, as would any good older sister. 

After finishing your ice cream, it was down to the living room to mope around and complain about being hot while playing FIFA. Barcelona summers really are just too hot sometimes. Pau beats you in the first few games, but you then flip yourself so you’re not lying upside down on the couch, and you start playing better. You guys spend a few hours doing that before Pau chucks his controller down and sighs.

“I’m bored of this, and it’s too hot to go outside and play actual football. And mama says no football in the house. What do you wanna do?”

“Die? It’s too hot.” he snorts and tugs on your ponytail, “You’re so dramatic.”

“Am not. It’s, like, boiling. But seriously, I have no idea what we should do.” Pau slowly turns his head to look at you, the look in his eyes silently asking, ‘Are you thinking what I’m thinking?’ to which you nod, and you both dash up the stairs, to Irene’s room, as she is now the unfortunate target of your boredom. 

Later that afternoon, Pau came to watch your football game against the female Real Betis youth team, he cheered loudly at every goal you scored, so loudly, that the parents around him started looking at him a bit funny, but one of the fathers there just laughed and told him his sister was very talented, but Pau was quick to correct him. 

“No, senyor. That’s my best friend, Y/N.” Monday, 8th of October, 2018. 11 years old.

It was a shock, but not surprising, when two La Masia contracts were offered to you and Pau after a Barcelona scout had come to watch both of your games. Playing for the club you’ve always dreamed of debuting for? Hell yes. You couldn’t sign it fast enough. Well… you couldn't force your parents to sign it fast enough. And before you knew it, you were waving goodbye to your parents and siblings, and you were boarding the bus to Barcelona. 

The bus ride was about 2 and a half hours from Bescanó, but Pau fell asleep about 45 minutes in, his head lulling around to your shoulder. You don’t mind, and just watch him for a minute… noticing how cute he looked when he slept, how his hair looked nicer than usual… no. Stop. It’s Pau. Your best friend. You quickly look away again and force said thoughts out of your mind, just focusing on the excitement of finally arriving at your new home. 

After what felt like far too long, Pau wakes up again, but when he realises that you don’t know he’s awake, he just pretends, closing his eyes again and snuggling closer, acting like he’s still sound asleep. You glance down at him and smile softly, a little confused, but then go back to watching out the window.

Pau didn’t even know why he did it himself, for some reason, he just wanted to be closer to you than usual. He stays like that for the entirety of what’s left of the bus ride, thinking about how nice you smell and how warm your skin is… no. Stop. It’s Y/N. His best friend.

Thursday, 8th of November, 2018. 11 years old.

Now settled into your shared dorm at La Masia, you and Pau are having the time of your lives. Here, you can live, breathe and talk football pretty much whenever you want, your guy’s dream. Tonight, you’re both tired, having been at away games most of the day, and now you’ve eaten, you’re pretty smashed. 

(for reference, this is an actual la masia dorm, so imagine it here:)

Pau was awake on his phone, and you were reading, making the most of time before lights out, as always, when Pau spoke up from between the cabinet dividing your two beds. 

“Can I sleep in your bed tonight?” This wasn’t unusual for you two, as you both found comfort in sleeping in the same bed, ever since that first sleepover when you were four. 

“Vale. Just don’t flail around too much and snore.” you conceded, scooting closer to the wall so Pau could get in. He slips in beside you and you cuddle up to him, but continue reading. Eventually, you fall asleep, the book still in your hands. Pau gently slips it out of your grip, putting it on the shelf above you two and pulling you further into his arms, burying his face in your hair and closing his eyes. 

“She’s just my best friend. Stop.” he mentally scolds himself.

Friday, 27th of August, 2021. 14 years old.

“Pau, I swear to God if I find another one of your socks just loose in this room-” you threaten, throwing the sock at him as he lays on his bed, scrolling his phone. He rolls his eyes and laughs, chucking it back at you. 

“Fine, whatever, mama.”

“Hey, don’t hate on me for trying to not live in the filth of a teenage boy.” you chuckle, sitting down at the desk and starting on your homework. 

After about 30 minutes of comfortable silence, your phone pings, you check it passingly, but you do a double take, your eyes going wide as saucers and you jump out of your seat. Pau is immediately alert, also jumping up. “WHAT?!” 

“I GOT INVITED TO TRAIN WITH THE FEMENI FIRST TEAM!” you practically squeal, throwing your arms around him in a hug, still holding your phone in one hand.

“No way, amiga! That’s amazing!” Pau laughs, picking you up and spinning you around. You often forget how strong he actually is now, despite the, possibly unhealthy, amount of times you’ve admired his new biceps… no, not now.

A few days later, you come back in the dorm door from your first first-team training, because of the different schedules, Pau isn’t back yet, still in the recreation hall doing homework. You sigh and put your bag down, going into the small ensuite of the dorm and having a quick shower, as you’re standing at the sink brushing your teeth, you hear the digital door lock PIN code being put in, and then Pau call out,  “Hola!” “Hola!” you call back, voice a little muffled by the mouthful of toothpaste.

You come out a few minutes later, allowing Pau to use the bathroom to shower after his own day of training. He comes out to grab his pyjamas with nothing but a towel around his waist, his hair still wet, that stupid, stupid, boyish smile on his face. You quickly look away.

“So how was training with the big girls, superestrella?” he asks, sincere, but slightly teasing. At the question, you’re immediately distracted from the sight in front of you and brought back to the memories of training earlier in the day. “It was amazing. I met Alexia Putellas. Alexia Putellas! Hell, I played with her, not just met her. They all seem so nice, Pau. I hardly wanted to leave.”

He chuckles at your excitement but gives you a “Good.” and ruffles your hair, heading back towards the ensuite to hang up his towel. 

Pau flops down on his bed and holds out his arms for you. Being freshly showered and no longer smelling like a locker room, you accept and lay down next to him. 

“Who would’ve thought, my best friend, playing with the Barca Femeni first team? I’m so proud of you, Y/N. Really.” he murmurs into your hair. “T'estimo (i love you).”

April 2023. 16 years old.

Today, Pau had had his first training with the first team, and you were waiting nervously in the dorm for him to get back and tell you how it was, and sure enough when he arrived back, he did.

In fact, it’s quite hard to shut him up. But you don’t mind. His voice is actually rather soothing. He got so animated talking about one of the drills he did where he got to work with someone, that he tripped over the leg of the chair of the desk and fell forwards, on top of you, putting you from your sitting position, to pinned underneath him. 

Your breath hitches, his face inches from yours. You stare at each other's lips for a moment before he mutters a quick apology and stands up again. You go bright red and murmur back a “You’re all good.” before rolling over and burying your face in your pillow after he’s walked away again. The dorm is dead quiet, the silence is tense and heated. “She’s my best friend…” Pau thinks, having no idea what was going on on the other side of the separator between the beds. “He’s my best friend…” you think.

“I don’t care.”

“I want him.”

Neither of you said anything aloud, but it’s safe to say that ‘Shameless’ by Camilla Cabello was certainly blasting in your AirPods tonight.

Saturday, 18th of January 2024. About to turn 17.

Tonight, Pau is making his senior team debut. Barca is playing against Unionistas de Salamanca in the Copa del Rey, and Pau has never felt so excited, yet so much like he could throw up at any moment. His parents, you, and Irene were all in the stands, and he couldn’t wait.

In the 46th minute, Pau gets subbed on for Andreas Christensen, jogging out into the pitch, debuting for the first time. You couldn’t help but chuckle when he got a yellow in the 70th minute, not at all surprised. 

Later that night, after the adrenaline had worn off a bit, you and Pau walked back into the dorm quietly, the rest of La Masia being asleep by now. Once the door is shut and locked again, you collapse into your desk chair, still grinning at him. You sit for a minute before standing up and moving to be in front of him, wrapping your arms around his neck in a hug. “Estic molt orgullós de tu (i’m so proud of you).” you murmur, looking into those beautiful eyes of his. He’s over 6 feet tall now, so you definitely have to look up, and he definitely has to look down. 

“Gràcies (thank you).” he murmurs back, also looking into your eyes, it’s silent for a moment before his neck starts craning towards you, and yours up, until finally, your lips meet in the middle. 

The kiss lasts a few seconds, just lips, no tongue or teeth, but the amount that it communicates is wild. Your hand creeps up from his neck to his hair, his hand moving to your waist, pulling you closer against him. When you finally pull away, you’re both a little breathless, but you grin at each other.

Friday, 29th of November, 2024. 17 years old. 

Tonight is Barca’s 125th-anniversary gala at the Gran Teatre del Liceu, you’re here with the Femeni team, and Pau’s here with the men’s team, but after the main, “formal” part of the event, everyone is taken off to an open hall with a bar and a few tables of food, music playing, coloured lights illuminating the room. 

You gravitate to Pau, who’s standing talking to Héctor Fort, Lamine Yamal and Pablo Gavi. He looks down to see you standing there, automatically wrapping an arm around your waist.

“So you’re the famous ‘roommate’ then, huh?” Lamine smiles teasingly at you. You chuckle, Pau laughs, and Héctor smiles expectantly.

Proudly, Pau’s grin only grows as he introduces you. “Guys, this is my girlfriend, Y/N.”

[doodler16]

It's easy to call Mr Wriggles fake because he panicked at the sight of Loona's true form, but something to remember is Loona is a werewolf (NEVER gonna call her a hellhound) and lowkey the majority of people will freak out if thew person they were sitting next to suddenly transformed into a tall canine right after you turned your eyes away lmao

Also he's

- The only character both in HH and HB to not swear at all

- The only character in HB who was genuinely nice and didn't have a "true nature"

Overall, it's the most solid episode of HB by far (that's saying something), and i'm kind of sad it's pretty much filler and I am SO GLAD they didn't go to the pedo/evil guy route, rare HB W

The swears are again, extremely unnecessary and it would have been interesting if the swears got censored to kid friendly words due to been near Mr Wriggles (shit becomes bummer or something like that), and Loona flipping off the receptionist, like...ok

It might be unpopular opinion but Blitzø and Loona's relationship is...pretty shallow. I know their bond is pretty much "Loser dad and the angsty child they adopted who after a while becomes more open" trope but it's done in a bad way for me in my opinion cause

- Loona is a grown ass adult, yes i know she might have experienced trauma while she was in the shelter but the way she behaves towards Blitzø makes her look genuinely mean instead of somewhat justified with her being immature and a teenager

- When they are together, Blitzø (most of the time) infantilizes her while Loona is physically abusive towards him for no reason (which is played for laughs), they barely got moments when they actually bond and are kind of nice to each other (the ones i remember is Bee Episode when she hypes up Blitzø during the drinking contest and also the moment where Blitzø gets almost executed, maybe) and if they do it never gets developed and becomes one time moment until the next 4-6 episodes when the cycle will repeat

So yeah Loona expressing her feelings of being wanted will take a long time at least to get "developed"

Him freaking out was completely fair! I now realize that haha. Though, I’m still lowkey side eyeing the writing regarding Mr. Wrigglers not questioning Blitzø’s appearance but whatever. Yeah, you right Anon. Mr. Wrigglers doesn’t swear and he’s nice making him a refreshing character overall.

“Overall, it's the most solid episode of HB by far (that's saying something).” The recent short so has given fans, stans, critics, and antis mixed feelings so far. Some like it, others understandably found it mean-spirited, and there are plenty who flat out hate it 🤣.

The swears getting censored would be funny honestly it could’ve worked when Charlie and Vaggie were in Heaven. I agree, Loona and Blitzø’s relationship is shallow and it’s all over the place writing wise. Blitzø is a decent dad to Loona but is overbearing, infantilizes her which has backfired in his face before (more or less the aftermath when he does put his foot down), etc.

Does Loona and Blitzø have anything in common, I would love for them just talk about anything, have some middle ground for once. Loona is always giving mix feelings about Blitzø. One day, depending on who is the writer: she will go soft on Blitzø then another day she’s pissed/annoyed with his presence 💀.

[tealvenetianmask]

Hi all. Here's my take on why Stolas doesn't need a whole rebound relationship with the Better Than Blitzo guy or Vassago or anyone.

It baffles me when people frame his lack of sexual and romantic experience as a problem that needs to be solved through relationships with other people.

I get the idea that he's a sheltered, neurodivergent, and until recently, closeted, gay man going through a second adolescence- and that causes him to have expectations for relationships that are based more on fiction than reality. I really do. And I think the way out of that problem is to truly understand the person he's trying to have a relationship with. Not to learn about relationships in general by dating around in order to practice for the person he actually has feelings for.

I also find it pretty narrow-minded to assume there's some amount of experience (in terms of number of partners) that's necessary for someone to understand relationships. A lot of queer and/or neurospicy folks come to relationships late, and for some that means a lot of different partners, and for others that means falling in love with just one, and both are fine.

A certain number of partners doesn't make you more or less of an adult, and frankly I find it a little infantilizing to assume that Stolas doesn't know who he wants as a 36? year old man just because he hasn't met some threshold for what a "normal" sexual/romantic development is. He might be going through a period of self-discovery where he's overly excited and wrong about things and makes mistakes, but that doesn't mean he's an actual teenager.

Shit, I've had some shorter relationships that I would skip if I could go back in time. Did I learn from them? Sure. Could I have learned those same lessons without them and saved myself some time and frustration? Absolutely.

I don't mind that he made out with some guy at a party. I don't mind that he might hook up with that person. A little experimenting likely won't hurt. It doesn't mean that he needs to go through a whole other relationship in order to discover that he actually loves the person who he knows he loves.

Never mind that Blitz actually does hold the key to Stolas discovering a lot of his shortcomings. And figuring those out is Stolas's whole character arc.