#but at this point I don't remember which signs were on which buildings

[trillscienceofficer]

from Sci-Fi Universe magazine, October 1996

KISS ME DEADLY: In REJOINED, one of the season's finest episodes, a kiss proved to be more than just a kiss

Maybe it's another sign of format maturity, but the modern Trek era has never seen anything like the controversy that erupted over the airing of DS9's Rejoined, which takes the science fiction story opportunity made possible by Dax's Trill host/symbiont race and twists it into a social comment on sexual orientation Gene Roddenberry would have been proud to call his own.

"Last July," begins Terry Farrell, whose Dax character is at the heart of the story, "Rick Berman called and asked me if I would kiss a woman, and at that point I guess I didn't take it that seriously. I said, 'Yeah, as long as she's beautiful I don't care!'

"And then it spurred me to thinking about it before it actually happened, and I felt bad I had been so flip, because I didn't realize how serious a love story it would be—and how nervous I would be about it, really want to be sure I'm honest and I'm doing the story justice, and I really want people to talk about it and think about it afterward. It really meant a lot to me.

"I think it's really important to love people for who they are, and spiritually it was a great show for me too, because it just reinforces that all of us—whether we want to admit it or not—can really be judgmental at times. That was a really important show to say, to the smallest degree, you've got to remember that people's lives are always so much more complicated than you think they are."

"We had a lot of advance buzz, but we also sat on that show a bit,' adds producer Steve Oster, who recalled the flap in 1969 when Kirk and Uhura made history with television's interracial kiss in Plato's Stepchildren. In fact, the show didn't go looking for attention.

"Because it had a kiss in it, and because of the Roseanne hoopla a few years ago (concerning the high-profile star's on-screen lesbian kiss), our publicity people wanted to have them come over and take pictures of 'the famous kiss scene,' have a news crew like Entertainment Tonight there—and we opted not to do that for a couple of reasons.

"For one thing, because we didn't want to become the Roseanne issue where stations were deciding not to air it, and secondly, to Rick's credit, he did not want to make that what the episode was about. It was not about two characters kissing—it was not about making that a tantalizing factor of the episode."

As directed by Avery Brooks, the episode maintained a remarkably naturalistic feel through the acting of all concerned, including Farrell and guest star Susanna Thompson.

"They chose to play it as real, as we would any other scene with those emotions going on: not 'Okay, a girl is going to kiss a girl,' but it was 'This is someone you were in love with before and you still are,' and that's the arc of the scene. It was not about the kiss," says Oster.

"I think we were trying to be as realistic as possible," Farrell agrees. "Really, the only scene I remember going way out and pulling back was the last scene were I give her the ultimatum—where Avery let me basically go all out and cry my eyes out and then pull me back. So that was the only time I remember going from one extreme to the other, trying a range; otherwise it was pretty natural."

In fact, the scene with Sisko was one of the easiest to play, she revealed, because of the natural affinity she feels tor Brooks, the actor. "He was so supportive of me during the first year of DS9 when it was really difficult for me, he was the only one who reached out and really made me feel comfortable, and tried to help me build my self-confidence and self-esteem in really healthy way," she says. "So I felt like I didn't need to do a lot of homework."

Farrell reveals that, in fact, the hardest scene for her as an actress was the moment in which Dax and Lenara Kahn realize at dinner, without voicing it directly, that they are still in love. Aside from the new situation of seeing Dax giddy like that, Farrell recalled it was the first day of shooting on the episode. "I felt a little uncomfortable and was feeling nervous about the whole thing," she says, "and I remember trying to make her comfortable at the same time."

The chemistry that sparked between Farrell and Thompson—finally out from under the makeup as a Romulan and Tilonian, both on TNG [on The Next Phase and Frame of Mind respectively]—came as no accident, since the producers had taken pains to have Farrell read with those who came in during casting for the role.

"We auditioned and auditioned and auditioned," Oster reports. "We needed to find that chemistry, someone who can play that role as a human being, not as someone who's wondering about kissing another woman. And if someone has delivered for us, we'll bring them back if they've been in makeup before because that can change."

"And," agrees Farrell, "we made sure we had a meeting before we started the show—Susanna and Avery and I—to discuss the show. Usually we don't have time for those kinds of things to happen on our show, but they just made the time. And it really made a difference, I think."

Before the show aired, executive producer Rick Berman said he hoped it would be "received with some controversy."

"I think it does deal metaphorically with homosexuality in the sense of how society puts taboos on certain sexual orientation," Berman said. "It deals with it from both sides, I believe. And I'm sure there are those in the gay community who will probably feel that, again, we haven't gone far enough. But our objective in this story was very specific and very related to the big points that are exhibited in the story—it was never designed to be 'how far can we push this?' It's another step in our attempts to supposedly open stories that deal with a variety of sexual orientation [sic]."

The low-key strategy seemed to have worked: among the affiliates who knew what was coming, Oster reports, none ever dropped the show completely. All ran the episode on first airing—with a parental advisory added by the Atlanta station—and "two or three" others cut the scene out when repeated.

"The studio was very supportive of it; it was one of those things that when Roseanne became the cutting edge and it passed by, it suddenly became not much of an issue."

—Larry Nemecek

"Negative callers couldn't make the leap between seeing this kiss and the famous one between Uhura and Kirk in 1969 as both being a matter of prejudice."

—Producer Steve Oster

[hollowdeath]

professor potter

pairing: harry james potter x fem!reader AU (18+)

summary: 2 years after the war, harry accepted a position as a substitute professor at hogwarts and recognized you from his years as a student. old feelings come to the surface as you both try to remain professional to keep his position safe.

content warning: slight teacher/student dynamic (they used to be classmates, reader is 18+), mostly slow burn & angst. smut mostly doesn't happen til the end (masturbation, penetration)

word count: 12.5k

a/n: wrote this for fun between working on requests! thank you to everyone who sends them in, they're so good and i'm excited to post more soon! just another fluffy, angsty harry fic taking place in school w a hint of smut...kinda similar to my last one but thats ok ! as always not exactly book/movie/canon accurate i apologize !

it's your first day of your last year at hogwarts, and you're probably the only student here that's not completely thrilled to be back. young witches and wizards running around you in the halls with their robes dragging on the ground, completely in awe with each other at the architecture and moving portraits.

you have to admit, if hogwarts does anything right, it's the ambience. probably the only thing you'll miss after leaving this year is the magic castle itself, particularly the library and your dorm room, which have been your sanctuaries for the past 7 years. there's just no place in the world, even the wizarding world, you've found, that quite compares to hogwarts.

but no, unfortunately, not even the grandiose castle of every young wizard's dream was enough to make you want to stay here even a day longer than you had to. and trust, you were counting down the days.

there was a lot that went into your disdain for the school. after the war in your 5th year, nothing had been the same. sure, the building was restored to its original form and even had some upgrades installed, but the energy within the walls felt so…unsettling.

it had been more than 2 and half years since then, and most students who remember the war well had either graduated or moved on from it. you, however, continued to feel the effects of it every day.

you've had a lot of personal struggles since then mentally, which affects your social life. you've overheard your friends talking about how they don't feel like you're the same person and you inevitably bring them down. it wasn't long after that they stopped talking to you completely. you didn't bother to rekindle the connection; you were ready to leave this place behind anyways, what was the point in faking a friendship for another year?

even without all that, you truly just hated your classes. you actually used to be a scholar student in your day, consistently making the top of the headmaster's list every year until the war. and you still loved headmaster mcgonagall, of course, you don't think that'd ever change, it was mainly the other professors that gave you a hard time. once you showed signs of struggling and burn out, it was like they just completely gave up on you and moved on to the next eager, bright-eyed bushy-tailed 1st year to dote on.

no matter, because again, you were ready to leave for a variety of reasons. even if you had loved your professors and graduated at the top of the class, you still had no friends to celebrate with. and even if you had those so-called "friends" back in your life, you still felt completely alone with them.

and so you laid in bed, the same bed you've had for 7 years now, retracting the ornate trim on the ceiling like you have a million nights before.

you decided to look back at your schedule once more, floating the paper out of its folder in your bag and towards your open hand. you read through it slowly, but nothing had changed. pretty much the worst line up of classes you've had so far. particularly your least anticipated course, defense against the dark arts.

at this point, you'd had more than enough when it came to the dark arts. those death eaters nearly killed you in that war, and actually did manage to kill too many of your classmates and teachers in the process. you saw your second home crumble in front of you, classrooms you grew up in completely leveled and the bridge burned to the ground, so much death and destruction over nothing but power. you resented the dark magic in this world.

sighing, you set the paper down on your bedside table and roll over, attempting to fall asleep. you have plenty of early classes this year and don't look forward to having to wake up with the sun to make it to them on time.

you're wasting time in the bathroom just before your defense against the dark arts, your last class of the day, when your peace is interrupted by a group of girls who come in giggling and talking rapidly amongst each other. from inside your stall you can't help but tune into their gossip. it's the only thing you could hear and, who cares, you could use some good drama.

you tried to dissect their conversation but they were constantly talking over each other, squealing, giggling, and you couldn't understand a thing. after a few moments of craning your neck towards the door to get a better listen, one girl's voice stood out amongst the rest as she asked, "okay, but, who's going to try and flirt with potter first?" her question was followed by many desperate "me!" "me!" "me!"s, a wave of giggling following.

potter. there's no way…

the bells begin ringing, signaling your next class is starting soon, and the girls go rushing out of the bathroom together. you slowly open the stall door and walk to the closest mirror. pale, like you've seen a ghost.

they couldn't possibly be talking about harry potter, right?

just his name had become plenty famous in its own right. the boy who lived; the boy who lived twice. you hadn't heard his name mentioned in a long time, though that's not hard when you've hardly interacted with anyone here in a long time.

you remembered harry from your years before the war that you had shared with him. he was 2 years ahead of you, so it wasn't often you had the chance to speak with him, but he was pretty much as legendary as one student could be at hogwarts. however, whenever you did manage to have a conversation with him, you always thought he was cute. really cute.

okay, so maybe you had a ginormous crush on him your entire time at hogwarts. but so did pretty much every other girl. but you didn't just think he was cute, you admired his gentle nature and timid personality. despite his heroic and outright dangerous adventures, he was always so kind, so humble…

the bells begin ringing again, meaning you're now late to class. "shit." you mutter, grabbing your bag and stumbling through the bathroom door.

you're jogging to your dark arts class with a racing mind, still wondering why those girls would mention potter's name so randomly.

you turn the corner and see the classroom door is already closed. "shit." you mutter again, stomping your foot. now you have to open the heavy doors and draw everyone's attention towards you, quite literally the last thing in the world you want right now.

sighing, you push open one of the doors, making the loudest noises you've ever heard echo throughout the silent classroom. you walk in and, as expected, all eyes are on you.

you grit your teeth and close the door behind you, making your way towards an empty seat in the middle of the room. the silence lingers as your footsteps hit the ground, trying your best not to make eye contact with anyone. you hear a few snickers and whispers coming from behind, and you can already tell it's your old friend group. you roll your eyes, sighing as you drop your weight into the creaky wooden seat.

you hadn't realized, but headmaster mcgonagall was at the front of the room. you noticed once she continued talking, looking up to see her smiling at you. you returned it. you love how she's always liked you despite your grades slipping lately.

you quickly look back down at your hands as people begin to turn away from you, drawing their attention back to mcgonagall as she continues to introduce the class.

"like i was saying, class, we apologize for the change this semester and hope you'll be understanding of us as we navigate this situation carefully. i suspect you'll all be respectful and courteous to our guest as he donates his time to hogwarts and to you, our students."

you look back up, a confused look on your face. what change? what situation? what guest?

it didn't take you long to connect the dots. it's like everything was in slow motion. the girls talking in the bathroom, the guest, the reason all the front rows of seats in class were completely filled with girls…

"please, class, welcome hogwarts' very own, mr. harry james potter."

all at once, your eyes landed on harry, who had been sitting to the side, obscured from your vision by several girls and a pillar. as he walks towards mcgonagall, eager applause erupt from the girls and the boys offer mediocre claps. you're too stunned to react, watching harry intently as he shakes mcgonagall's hand with that same timid smile.

you can hardly believe your eyes. what is going on? why is he here? and how the hell does he look even better now than he did 2 years ago?

"thank you, headmaster mcgonagall," harry says shyly, turning to the students. his eyes immediately fall on you. you try to convince yourself he's looking just in front of you or even past you, but you can feel his stare into your eyes. its the only thing that breaks you out of your shock.

you blink a few times and slump into your seat, feeling your blood run cold at harry's eye contact. he looks down at the desk he's standing at and shuffles a few papers. you sink even lower into your chair. this can't be good.

"uh, well, hello…everyone," harry says awkwardly, earning some flirtatious giggles from the girls just ahead of you. "it's a pleasure to be here, really, despite the circumstances. uh, i'm sure as some of you know…i've been very close with the weasley family for years and feel devastated for bill– uh, professor weasley, that is," harry corrects himself nervously, clearing his throat and glancing at his papers again.

"and when he reached out to me personally, specifically me out of anyone, to teach in his place for this semester, i couldn't say no to him. so, while it's a real honor to be here with you all, please know it's just for this semester and then professor weasley will be back to continue with the lesson plan in the spring," harry explains, looking around the room yet always letting his eyes land on you specifically with a lingering gaze.

harry goes into the schedule for the semester, the skills you'll be learning, and, well, you can't really focus on what else because you're just completely lost in your own head.

harry potter, the harry potter, is your professor for an entire semester.

you were completely dumbfounded. he couldn't hardly be older than 20 years old at this point. he had only left hogwarts just 2 years prior, yet he looked so different. though the glasses and hair stayed relatively the same, he had matured in the face. a slight beard, defined smile lines, and he'd definitely spent some time in the gym…

seeing him in a button up with his old gryffindor tie on drove you mad. is he really getting you worked up in the middle of class by just standing there? you feel like you're 14 again, staring him down in the courtyard from behind a tree.

it doesn't help that you swear he keeps looking at you. specifically you. his gaze is unmistakable at this point, it can't be a coincidence.

you try to stop yourself from having these thoughts and physical reactions. if he's going to be your professor for an entire semester you have to get over this silly crush that was never going to work out anyway. though you're soon turning 19, it makes no difference if he's working with the school, it would never be allowed…

what are you even saying? as if anything would ever happen except in your dreams. all you're going to do is lust for him until christmas and then he'll be gone again, his name nothing but a spoken legend again.

before you can process all he's said, harry announces that everyone's free to leave once you grab a textbook from him. girls are immediately standing up and running to get in line, and the boys are rolling their eyes as they sluggishly follow behind.

you're inevitably the last one, getting a headache as you listen to girls try to ask harry all kinds of questions for a bit of his attention. he mostly just gives simple answers or laughs them off, referring back to the class or the textbook he was handing them in some way to change the subject.

mcgonagall eventually shoos the girls away, which harry thanks her for in a low tone. he hands a book to each of the boys in front of you before it comes down to you. as the boy in front of you is being escorted away by mcgonagall, you briefly catch harry putting the library card of your book inside the front cover before he closes it.

your eyes connect as he hands the book to you, but he doesn't let go. your heart instantly flutters.

"it's nice to see you again, [y/n]," he says softly, letting the weight of the book fall in your hands.

the way he says your name has you frozen in place. his pretty blue eyes have stayed just as mesmerizing. it takes a moment before you're able to wrap the book in your arms, offering him a friendly smile as you softly reply, "you too, harry…"

you're quickly making your way back to your room with the biggest, cheesiest smile plastered on your face. he remembered you. you had barely ever interacted with harry, only a handful of times as far as you could remember, and you were sure he had completely forgotten about you, or at least forgotten your name. you tried to chalk it up to him having access to the attendance records of the class and reading over your name, but you still felt like a giddy school girl skipping along day dreaming about her crush.

when you got back to your dorm, you set the class textbook down on your desk and went to turn around before looking back at it longingly. harry had just put the library card back in the book before handing it off to you. you were most likely crazy, but something inside you was insanely curious to see if he had done something to the card.

you slowly opened the book and took the card out, a blank piece of cardstock except for a fresh label printed at the top. you sigh, almost putting it back before seeing something on the card catch the shimmer of the light.

you give the card a curious look. you turn it in your hands towards the light, trying to see what's on it. before giving up in frustration, a thought comes into your brain.

no…

you dig into your luggage, still unpacked from the day prior, looking for your old ink and quill. once you find them you come back to the card, setting it on your desk as you open the ink pot. you dip your quill in the ink and touch it to the spot you noticed earlier.

as you watched, the ink collected into letters and numbers, forming a message across the dotted lines of the check out columns. you were stunned. harry actually wrote to you in disappearing ink? you thought you were delusional thinking it was a possibility, but here was the proof plain as day:

[y/n],

hagrid's, 8:30pm

harry

you kept rereading the lines over and over before they slowly disappeared, fading away into the paper. you stood back in pure disbelief. what does this mean? obviously it means he wants to meet with you, but for the life of you you just can't figure out why. you two barely knew one another personally, it had been two years since you'd seen or heard of each other again, and now he's secretly inviting you to hagrid's after hours using disappearing ink? as your substitute professor, too…

from 5-8 pm you mainly paced around your room in both lingering disbelief and unbridled excitement. though you had no idea why harry had invited you out in secret, you were anxious just to be in his presence at his request.

you spent forever deciding on your outfit, feeling a bit silly for putting so much effort into this suspicious rendezvous that you were still clueless about.

sneaking out had become somewhat natural to you over the years. you knew all the blind spots of the castle and could hear a prefect coming from a mile away. you were out of your room and walking down to hagrid's completely unnoticed in less than 10 minutes.

on your way down the hill, your mind is racing with possibilities of what this meeting could entail.

arriving at hagrid's hut, you admire the warm glow of the windows and intoxicating smell coming from the smoking chimney – a mix of wood and garlic. hagrid's pumpkins are just beginning to plump up, his yard scattered with overgrown vines.

as you walk up to the door, a wave of anxiety hits you. knocking seems like the most impossible task in the world all of a sudden.

you steady your breathing, let your heart rate slow, and knock before you have the chance to stop yourself.

a few seconds of some rustling can be heard behind the door before it swings open. harry greets you with a warm smile. no longer dressed for class, harry looks quite adorable in a comfy sweater and baggy jeans standing before you in the hut.

"[y/n], you got my message," he says, clearly impressed. you couldn't believe this was real. he really did leave you that note on purpose. just hearing him acknowledge it made your heart race all over again.

"i-i did," you say in shock, searching his expression for an answer to all your questions. why are you here?

harry gestures for you to come in. "well, join me, please," he insists. you politely smile and enter the hut, the smell of food making your mouth water immediately. "smells amazing in here," you comment under your breath.

harry closes the door, looking back at you with a shy smile. "oh, thank you. it's for us, actually." he tells you, nodding his head towards the dining table.

completely set up with a tablecloth, harry has food plated for the two of you on the tiny table, along with tea still steaming on the stove.

"if you don't mind, of course," he checks with you, his voice soft and unsure. you look back at harry, barely able to grasp what's happening before you reply, "of course,"

he suppresses a grin as he gestures to the table once more. "please," he prompts you. you hand him your bag and jacket before taking your seat at the table, admiring the food he prepared for you. you're still lost in thought when harry asks, "tea?" holding the kettle from the stove.

"please, thank you," you reply. he pours you both cups of tea before bringing them to the table with a smile on his face.

as you're eating you notice a record playing in the corner you hadn't heard earlier. it fills the space nicely as you both take your first bites of dinner. "hope you like it, i wasn't sure what to make," he says nervously.

wiping your lips with a napkin, you simply tell him, "it's lovely,"

after another moment or so, harry sits back in his chair. "so…[y/n]..." he sighs. hearing him say your name like that makes your brain fuzzy for just a second before he speaks again. "you're probably, um, wondering why…"

you stifle a laugh at his stalling, getting a hint of confidence as you interrupt him. "wondering why professor potter secretly invited me to have a home cooked dinner with him?"

harry goes still, his eyes searching your expression as a blush grows over his cheeks. he swallows nervously, blinking and shaking his head before attempting to respond. "u-um, yeah, that,"

smirking, enjoying his nerves, you wait for his explanation with your arms crossed and a raised brow. he clears his throat and diverts his eyes from your gaze. he takes a sip of tea before smacking his lips and looking back at you.

"i just, i haven't seen you…" he starts, eyes softening at you. "i-i know we didn't talk much, but…i always cared for you." the last part was hard for harry to get out, a weight lifting off his shoulders in the process.

you were blushing, but more than that you were sweating. this is like something you would dream about as a kid. hell, even just earlier today…

"when i saw you today…in class…" he seemed uncomfortable referencing that. "i just…a lot of memories came back to me," his hands move with him nervously as he speaks.

he sighs and stands up, his body language clearly stressed. you haven't said a word, you simply can't. what could you possibly say?

harry's facing the fireplace, his head in his hands. "look, i just, now that i'm your professor this semester i just think…" he takes a moment to find the words before turning to you. "i had a crush on you. okay? there. god damn it," harry huffs angrily, rolling his head back as he throws his hands down.

"i had a crush on you for like 3 years, it was stupid, and i don't want it to affect my teaching with you. so…i guess i practically set up a fucking date to tell you this, sent hagrid away for the evening for nothing…" he gestures to the table, sighing in defeat.

you're stunned into silence, to say the least. there aren't words to describe what's going on in your head at this moment.

after a moment harry looks back at you, his gaze softening once again. "[y/n]...please understand i wouldn't be telling you any of this unless i thought there was another way i could deal with it. when i saw you today…it was like i was 16 again," a small smile creeps onto his face before he wipes it away.

"and if i didn't tell you now, it's all i would've thought about when i saw you, so…yeah. there." harry says with a huff, avoiding eye contact with you.

before you can even process what's going on, your body reacts for you. you stand up, walking over to harry, getting his attention off the floor. he looks at you almost with fear in his eyes at how close you are. you sigh shakily before speaking.

"harry…u-um, professor potter…" you correct yourself. "please, just, harry…for now at least," harry insisted, his eyes apologetic.

"harry…" you say, suppressing a grin. "you don't have to worry. really…um, it was definitely mutual, to put it lightly…"

harry gives you a surprised look. "really?"

you roll your eyes, taking a step away from him and towards the fire, enjoying the warmth. "harry, you forget who you are sometimes. essentially every girl i knew had a crush on you at one point."

harry's a little flustered at this statement, also taking a step closer to the fire, and towards you. "i-i wouldn't say that, i was definitely not that lucky back in the day," he jokes.

"so those girls that were practically all over you during class today…?" you tease him. "'oh, professor potter, what can i do to get a good grade?'" you mock their voices, giving him puppy dog eyes as you lean towards him before laughing and turning towards the fire. "is that not luck?" you ask with your arms crossed, a smirk hiding your slight jealousy.

harry's silent for a few moments before you look over at him. you see his eyes dark and fixated on you for just a second before he blinks and shakes his head at you, also turning to the fire. "please. they're children. they crush on any slightly older guy they see."

you roll your eyes again at his denial. "some of them were my age, well on their way to being 19. but, whatever you say."

the fire crackles in front of you two, filling the space and creating a warm glow. "besides…none of them are you." harry says. you look over at him, and he's lost staring at the fire. he feels you looking at him and quickly corrects himself. "i mean, nobody was like you, at least to me, back then…" he trails off awkwardly, wincing at his own choice of words.

you adore his nervous antics. he's just the same sweet, timid boy you remember, except he's a bit taller with a 5 o'clock shadow and looks gorgeous in the glow of a fireplace right now.

"i've really mucked this night up, haven't i? i was supposed to tell you about the crush calmly and professionally, with no inappropriate comments, and send you on your way into the night with your first reading in the textbook…" harry sighs, giving you a pathetic look.

"well…" you start. "your first mistake was probably leaving me a secret note, and cooking me a wonderful dinner," you gesture towards the table. harry lets out a pathetic laugh, shaking his head. "yeah, probably."

you don't know why you feel the need to, but you instinctively grab for harry's hand. he gives you a surprised, scared look.

you try to reassure him with a soft smile. "harry, i appreciate you telling me. i hope it can make this semester easier for you."

harry smiles in return, but it's not genuine. he looks like he's holding back from letting you know how he really feels.

regardless, he invited you two to finish up your food, laughing as you both attempted to resume casual conversation without the awkward air.

surprisingly, the two of you naturally begin to talk up a storm, reminiscing on memories and catching up on what's happened since then. harry tells you about his career as an auror and his experiences that lead him to being able to teach defense against the dark arts. when professor weasley's wife had died of sudden illness, the only person he wanted to take his place was harry.

you're hesitant to tell him about your lack of eventful news, practically hiding your face in embarrassment as you admit that your grades have been suffering since the war.

harry put a reassuring hand on your knee, his chair pushed closer to you. you had both long since finished dinner and just talked, enjoying the fire as harry continued to feed it wood every so often.

you looked up at him, melting at how adorable his tired eyes looked through his glasses. "i get it. trust me." he tells you. his voice puts you at ease, and you don't feel quite as embarrassed as before.

"maybe this semester i could help you. if you'd like, of course," harry offers. you smile. "of course."

as you're slowly making your way towards the door to leave, harry watches you search through your bag to find chapstick. as you're putting it on, he continues to watch you. you sneak a glance at him, his face soft and full of admiration.

"you know, if i may say, in the least inappropriate manner possible…" he says with a laugh, causing you to laugh with him. "you have truly only gotten more beautiful after all this time, [y/n]."

looking over at him, you can feel your face form a cheesy grin with blushing cheeks. "well, thank you, that's very kind," you say, putting your chapstick away and taking another step towards the door. "but, really, i should be saying the same about you."

harry waves you away, but you notice the smile planted on his cheeks. "please," he says sarcastically.

he reaches for the door to open it for you, and finds himself rather close to you by accident. you smile up at him, and he nervously steps back.

"u-uh, thank you for coming tonight, really, even if it was a bit weird…" harry says, an embarrassed laugh following. giggling with him, you take a step outside. "it was nice. but, no more invisible ink. just ask me from now on, okay?" you ask, still giggling at him.

harry shakes his head at himself. "will do."

you give him a warm smile before reaching in for a one-arm hug, resting your head on harry's shoulder for just a second before pulling back. "i'll see you tomorrow, professor potter." 

enjoying the shocked and flustered look on his face, you walk away still laughing, making your way up the hill and towards the castle. you heard the door shut behind you quickly after you left, but could feel harry's lingering eyes following you through the window the entire way back.

that night you're laying in bed trying to convince yourself everything that just happened wasn't a dream. if it weren't for your full stomach and muddy shoes sitting by your door you might've convinced yourself it really was all an illusion. rather than dreading the next day of classes, you're actually excited to wake up as it only means you'll see harry sooner.

though you're not sure exactly why. yes you'd had a friendly conversation with him tonight after he admitted his feelings towards you, which still hasn't quite settled in yet…but what happens now? he's still your professor for the next 5 months minimum, and you both know you used to like each other. harry might feel better getting it off his chest, but you were perfectly fine keeping that secret to yourself like you always had. if anything, now it's the only thing you're going to think about every day.

rolling over, you try to fall asleep without thinking about harry too much.

it had been a few weeks since you met with harry that night in hagrid's hut, and things were going…okay, so far.

well, to be completely honest, you had utterly fallen back into your crush on harry harder than you ever had before.

and you tried to stop yourself this time. really, you did. working with harry in class and then stopping by his office at least 3 times a week for his help in other classes was a lot of time to be spending with a professor, and you rather despised just how fast harry made your heart beat or how easily his eyes could distract you.

so you tried your best to convince yourself it was lingering feelings from your past self, even trying to have a crush on other boys in your year to distract your brain. that failed miserably. none of those boys were attractive or interesting on their own, especially in comparison to professor potter…

but you couldn't fool yourself. you still felt the same butterflies seeing harry now like you did in 5th year. when he's talking to you in the quiet of his office, reading your textbook to you, you feel like the only two people in the world. when he fixes your hands to hold the wand properly, or moves your arm for you in the correct pattern to cast a spell, you can't focus for the rest of class. if his eyes linger on you just a bit too long during one of his lectures, a knowing smile growing on his face, you melt in your seat.

there was no denying it. you liked him more now than you ever had before. maybe it's just the sheer amount of time you've spent with him this past month or so, but your feelings for him had never been this strong in the past. there were days where he was quite literally the only thing you thought about, or at least wanted to think about. though you were doing better in your other classes, it was only because of him. you spent barely any outside time putting effort into these classes because, ultimately, you were completely distracted by harry.

and not just the idea of him, but particularly the growing tension you had noticed between you two recently.

you also tried to convince yourself that this was going on in your head. but there were just too many instances of prolonged eye contact, harry sitting a bit too close to you during your tutoring sessions, and lingering hands on your skin that made you question if harry maybe wasn't entirely over his crush either…

not that you tried to make it easy for him. since the semester started, you've been taking some extra time each morning to perfect your hair/makeup, put on your favorite perfumes on days you knew you'd be close to harry, and would even change your outfit completely when going to study with him outside of your school robes to give you a boost of confidence.

not that you needed the boost. lately you could only feel confident in yourself and nothing less. something about learning your life long crush who seemed so unattainable also had feelings for you, and could possibly still, made you feel untouchable. not to mention that any girl you heard talk about him or swoon over him in class just made you laugh to yourself; they had no idea you were with him alone for hours every week goofing off together as he attempted to help you study.

this confidence made its way into other parts of your day outside of harry as well. you were talking more in class, making a few new friends, even going to parties and outings just for the fun of it. you were actually enjoying your time at hogwarts instead of dreading every day. not all because of harry, but it definitely didn't hurt to consider him a friend.

a friend. a professor. an old classmate. a crush. a temporary fixation. your relationship to harry, in your mind, seemed so complicated and sometimes incredibly frustrating. especially when he seemed to flirt with you so subtly. you couldn't stand the, 'is he, isn't he' thoughts. but, at the same time, it just made you more motivated to push the limits to see how he responded.

of course it started with looking good, enjoying his reaction seeing you each day with a small smile and blushing cheeks. then it was making flirtatious jokes and purposefully giving him innocent looks while he rambled about whatever subject to get him flustered and distracted. and, lately, you've stepped it up by wearing shorter and shorter skirts whenever you stop by his office, and have even caught him looking at your legs a number of times when he thinks you're not paying attention.

all this to say, there was definitely tension.

you had to admit you felt a bit guilty, you knew harry valued his position as a substitute professor and was enjoying his time there, and you would feel awful if anything ever happened to cost him this position. he told you about his crush specifically to alleviate it, and your only goal this semester has been to do the opposite.

but, at the same time, you wouldn't act this way if harry didn't also create tension between you two. he also made overtly flirty jokes and comments, even seeming a tad bit jealous whenever you mentioned another boy during your time together. and you weren't stupid, you could tell when he wore the cologne you complimented one time when you were around or had even changed from his school clothes before you came to see him. there was definitely something unspoken going on between the two of you, but you were both afraid of crossing that line and making things complicated. besides, if anything, you both seemed to enjoy this game you were playing of teasing each other in private and then acting normally during class as student and teacher.

honestly, you found it to be insanely erotic, and were more turned on in class than any other time you were with harry due to the secretive nature of everything. his longing gaze as you walk in, his nervous glances towards specifically you, the shift in his voice from talking to one student to talking to you, it was all so subtle yet in plain view. something about wanting what you can't have only made you want it more.

on this particular day, you had been with harry for over two hours studying for an exam for a class you had been struggling with all semester, even with harry's help. you were frustrated, laying your head in your arms with your textbook in front of you, groaning as harry chuckled at you. 

"c'mon, [y/n], you've got this. i mean, you did just fine on this last practice test, better than you have all semester really," harry comments, pulling the paper out of your folder. you lift your head up, giving him a mean look. "i got a 75. barely." you deadpan.

"yes, and that's better than what you have been getting." harry stated, trying to hide a smirk. you throw a crumpled up paper at him. "stop, that's not funny," you whine, also trying to hide your laugh.

chuckling, harry stands up and walks towards the bookshelf in his office. "look, i'm just trying to be encouraging here," he says over his shoulder as he scans the rows of books.

you try to get back to your work, but you're just so utterly confused and upset that you close the book with a huff and lean back in your seat with an exasperated expression. harry hears this and turns to you, giving you a sympathetic smile.

he walks back over, picking up the book in front of you and setting it in your bag. "here, we can be done for today. it's not good to push yourself past your limit."

you sigh as you push back the urge to tear up. "sometimes i just feel so stupid," you say in a soft, despondent voice, staring off into the window across from harry's desk.

harry's watching you intently, and nearly drops to his knees as he crouches beside your chair and catches your eyes in his. "hey, you're not stupid. quite the opposite, actually." he says with a genuine voice. you look away, still not believing him.

"really, [y/n], and i'm not saying this as your professor. back in school i was constantly listening to hermione go on and on about your intelligence and class rank. she was incredibly impressed and slightly envious that someone 2 years below her was actually providing some competition at this school." harry says with a laugh.

you can't help but blush like crazy at this confession. hermione had been your academic inspiration for all of your time at hogwarts, and even still now despite your declining lack of effort. you'd had quite a few conversations with her in the past about classes and certain books or authors you both enjoyed, but had no idea she thought that highly of you.

mulling over this information in your head, harry continued to grab your attention with a soft smile and loving eyes. "you're not stupid. different things are harder for different people. you'll get there, and i'll help you. okay?" he asks.

you smile back at him. "okay."

slowly packing up to leave, you and harry both take your time to gather your supplies as you chat about your respective plans for the weekend. you casually mention a party you were thinking of going to. harry perks up at this. "a party?" he asks, a twinge of concern laced in his voice.

you give him a look. "yeah, ever heard of it?" you ask sarcastically, laughing to yourself. "i guess it's one of the slytherin boys' birthdays, or something like that," you wave off, throwing your bag over your shoulder. "apparently it's going to be massive,"

harry continues looking at you with a hint of concern. "well, just…be safe, yeah?" harry comments, his voice uneasy. you laugh at him again, looking at him incredulously. "yes, professor potter, i'll be careful," you tease him. you know harry gets a little squirmy when you call him that outside of class, and it never fails to make you feel powerful.

"besides, i heard the theme is dress to impress, so you already know i'm gonna look so good," you joke, flipping your hair dramatically. harry's tenseness breaks, letting out a chuckle. "well, still. just…be safe." is all he manages to say as you walk with him to the door.

saying your goodbyes as you separate down the hall, you can still feel harry's eyes on you until you disappear around the corner.

the night of the party, you were still unsure if you wanted to go. when a couple girls from class saw you and asked if you were going, they ended up convincing you to come with them. so, you got changed into a flashy dress that fit you well, fixed up your hair and makeup a bit, and met them in the courtyard to walk to the slytherin common room together. they obsessively commented on your outfit, telling you just how good you looked and letting you know you'd have no problem finding a guy to snog tonight.

but, you don't want any guy tonight. if anything, you were walking slowly through the hallways hoping by some chance that harry would cross your path and see just how good you looked. but you knew you weren't that lucky.

upon arriving at the party, drinks are immediately pushed into your and your friends' hands. they were right about the party being massive, as every square foot of the slytherin common room was packed with slightly tipsy students of all ages dancing to the loud music. you had barely finished your first drink before your friends dragged you over to do shots with them, wincing at the burn it left in your throat afterwards.

as the night goes on, you're eventually separated from all the girls you came with. not on purpose, some of them were playing drinking games, some were dancing, and one had even left the party with a guy she was completely into. no hard feelings, everyone was just doing their own thing. you had a few shouting-over-the-music conversations with a couple classmates and drank another cup of the mysterious alcoholic punch being served before deciding to head back to your room. you informed one of your friends, who asked if you wanted her to come with you, but you insisted she stay.

entering the hallway is extremely sobering. the loud music and colorful lights made it easy to ignore the growing drunken sensation, but you were now nervously navigating the halls of hogwarts, slightly intoxicated, attempting to warm yourself up with your hands over your arms. you hadn't even thought to bring a jacket, of course, so you were shivering as you made your way back to your room.

not long after leaving the party, you turn the corner and come face to face with another person. a boy a year under you, though you couldn't remember his name or anything else about him. you're a bit startled, not expecting to see anyone else, but politely apologize and attempt to walk around him.

"hey. you were at the party, right?" he asks, stepping in front of you to prevent you from leaving. you're slightly annoyed by him already, but your intoxicated state makes you bite your tongue. "yeah, just on my way back to my room," you try to end the conversation there, taking another step to get around him.

but he gets in your way again, stepping even closer to you this time. "what's the rush? y'know you had every guy talkin' in there tonight? sure would be nice to take home the prize," he slurs into your face, your nose scrunching at his alcoholic breath. god, this kid's way more wasted than you.

"excuse me?" you scoff, turning your face away from him. he tries to put his hand on your waist but you slap it away as hard as you can, causing him to wince and give you an angry look. "i suggest you leave me the fuck alone," you announce firmly, stancing your feet apart as you get ready to defend yourself further.

just as this guy's about to try again, this time his hands going for your neck, a voice from down the hall echoes loudly, scaring you both. "hey!"

you both turn, and it's harry.

"i would further suggest you leave her alone, mr. williams," he announces as he swiftly walks towards you. the kid laughs him off. "mind your business, huh, potter? this doesn't involve you," he continues to slur, looking like he wants to fight as harry walks up to him, chest to chest.

"it does now. leave and you'll be lucky i don't have you expelled or rather arrested for sexually assaulting a fellow student on campus grounds after hours, while intoxicated might i add," harry spits at him, his eyes full of disgust and rage.

the kid falters a bit, but the alcohol still has him acting cocky, getting in harry's face. "yeah? or what," he asks daringly.

you get between them and put your wand, hidden in your dress, against the kid's throat, making him stiff with wide eyes. "touch him and i will gladly get expelled for hurting you in ways you couldn't even conceive of in your fucking nightmares. do you understand? get the fuck out of here!" you nearly shout at the kid, causing him to turn and run.

you sigh a breath of relief, but quickly begin to feel the anxiety return as you bring your wand down and look at harry.

you can feel your body shaking with anger and fear, and also shivering from how cold you hadn't realized you'd gotten. your cheeks were flushed, your breathing uneven, and nearly on the verge of tears. harry's eyes were still angry, but he gave you a sympathetic look. he promptly took off his jacket and wrapped it around your shivering frame, enveloping you in a hug in the process. it's hard not to let the tears flow just a bit as you rest your head in his chest. you felt so vulnerable with him in that moment.

"here, let's get you back to your room, yeah?" harry says softly, turning your shoulders and guiding you down the hall. you realize you had sobered up during the ordeal, your eyes focusing and walking straightening out as you follow the corridors. once harry begins guiding you down your hallway, you slow to look up at him with a curious expression.

"how do you know where my room is?"

harry's a bit stunned by your question, searching for an answer before you began to think more. "and, wait," you stop walking and turn to him. "how did you even find me?" you ask breathlessly. harry continues to look guilty as he searches for an answer. smirking, you pull his jacket on you closer.

"professor potter, if i didn't know better, i'd say you were watching me tonight," you tease him in a flirty voice. "surely that's not the case, is it?"

harry looks around you two nervously, clearly starting to feel anxious for his actions. all you could do was smirk. you knew he still liked you.

harry sighs, avoiding your eye contact with a completely red face. "look, i just had a bad feeling about that party, okay?" he says simply. you continue to stare at him with a knowing look. "i couldn't sleep tonight knowing something could've happened to you. something like that fucking kid…" harry gets worked up just thinking about it again before stopping himself and calming down. "i'm sorry. it was wrong of me, and completely inappropriate."

your smirk drops into a soft smile. you can't help but feel your stomach erupt into butterflies hearing him admit he was watching you tonight specifically to make sure you were safe.

you softly put your hand to his cheek, causing him to look at you. he looks apologetic, concerned, and sad, his eyes searching yours as he slightly leans into your touch.

"thank you, harry." you say just above a whisper, your voice genuine and loving.

he sighs again, a bit relieved, a bit sad. his hand goes for yours, holding it for just a moment before he gives it back to you, letting go as he looks towards your door.

"well," he starts off, his voice cracking. "i'll leave you here for the night,"

smiling, you nod and take a step towards your door. you slip his jacket off of you and hand it back to him with a grateful, warm smile. he returns the smile as you're opening your door and waving goodbye at him.

as you're getting ready for bed, you replay the events of tonight over and over. you imagine harry watching you leave your room without you having any clue, meeting up with your friends, leaving the party in a daze, attempting to escape that guy before harry decided he had to step in and protect you.

you felt a bit silly for ever thinking harry's crush on you had stopped. even his subtle clues weren't very subtle thinking back now. maybe back in year 5 you assumed you were crazy for thinking he was looking at you funny, but now, nearing 3 years later, and learning he's liked you the whole time, you couldn't deny his longing gaze.

laying in bed, you decided you had to properly thank harry in some way for tonight, and you knew exactly how.

the next day, you paid a special visit to diagon alley with a friend to buy something special for harry. when she asked why you would ever possibly buy something like that for yourself, you make up some story about needing it for a class. she doesn't believe you, but goes along with it anyway and continues to have fun with you on your sunday out shopping.

you head towards his office in the afternoon when he usually spends his time grading assignments and working on the following week's lesson plan. you practically had his schedule memorized after coming to study with him so often.

softly knocking on the door, harry lets out a, "come in,"

you enter the office and he smiles at you immediately before it falters, his eyes then landing on the wrapped box in your hands. "surprise," you say with a shy voice.

he lets out a huff, looking back at you with a disbelieving expression. "[y/n]..." he carries off.

"it's just a little something," you say as you walk towards his desk, setting it down carefully in front of him. "a thank you, for last night," you tell him.

his eyes move back and forth from the box to your eyes, not knowing what to say. a few moments pass before he stands. "[y/n], i can't accept this…" he sighs. "what i did last night, i mean…it shouldn't have happened that way," he says curtly.

you tilt your head to catch his gaze, giving him a warm smile. "you did nothing wrong," you reassure him. you gesture to the gift. "please," you insist.

harry's shoulders relax, giving you an embarrassed smile as he slides the box closer to him, admiring the wrapping. "this is gorgeous, did you do this?" he asks, pointing at the sparkly ribbon and personalized name card. you proudly smile and nod your head.

harry admires it for another moment before carefully untying the ribbon and lifting the lid off the box. he gasps at what he sees.

a signed, hardcover, gold leaf detailed first edition defense against the dark arts textbook from his favorite auror. he had talked to you about seeing it at the bookshop but not wanting to spend the money or not having the place to display it or whatever his excuse was. you had taken note of this comment and when you saw it wasn't as expensive as harry had made it seem you knew it was perfect.

"[y/n]...you didn't…" he utters, practically falling back in his chair as he continues to stare at the cover. you giggle fondly at his reaction. "go ahead, open it up," you tell him excitedly. he can hardly move, but he eventually takes the book out of the box and admires it in his hands. he flips the cover open, sees the signature, and smiles. then, he looks at the inside of the cover and his expression drops.

"i had it personalized, if that's okay with you," you ask anxiously. on the inside of the leather bound cover you had a pressing engraved that said 'harry james potter'.

harry's in shock, his fingers running across the pressing softly. "[y/n], this is…" he trails off, continuing to admire the book as he flips through it, landing back on the inside cover, admiring his name once more.

"thank you." harry says, looking at you with so much love in his eyes it makes your heart burst. it was worth every penny seeing him in awe in front of you like this.

"well, thank you," you respond, smiling, holding your arms behind your back.

harry abruptly stands up, stepping around his desk and pulling you in for a desperate hug. you're a bit surprised, your arms wrapping around his waist as he continues to pull you closer and closer.

after a minute or so of the most comforting hug you've experienced outside of last night in that hallway, harry separates from you only slightly to look down at you. your faces are close enough to feel the breath of the other person.

you just want to tell him, 'fuck it, who cares, nobody's here, just kiss me, please, release this tension', but before you can even consider it, harry breaks the silence.

"i still love you," he says so softly, his face wincing as the words fall from his lips. your breath hitches. love?

"fuck," harry mutters, almost stepping away from you until you pull him closer to you, putting your lips close enough to his they're nearly touching. "please. kiss me. just kiss me. please." you practically beg, your hand finding its way to harry's neck.

"[y/n], we can't, i can't–" "just once, please, maybe it'll stop if we just, please…" you interrupt him, hoping he understands what you're implying, your noses rubbing together.

harry takes a few moments before practically whimpering as he connects your lips to his, wrapping you in his arms tightly. you immediately melt into him, letting the kiss consume you as your hands pull harry closer to you.

it only takes a few seconds before harry has you up on his desk, his hands gripping your ass under your skirt. the cold of the wood on your exposed skin makes you gasp, and harry's tongue quickly slips past your lips.

it's everything you imagined, and the fact that this is happening in his office is just making you even more turned on. you had played this scenario in your head so many times, and it hardly felt real once it was actually happening. and on the desk you spent so many hours at, pining over him and fantasizing him taking you like he is right now.

after a few minutes of making out and needy groping through your clothes, harry pulls away breathlessly. opening your eyes you see he's completely flushed, his hair slightly messy as he nervously takes his hands off you.

you awkwardly clear your throat, your hands falling to your sides and resting back on the desk. harry takes a step away, straightening his tie and fixing his hair. you hop off his desk and adjust your skirt.

the silence between you is awkward, but there's just nothing to say. the kiss only left you wanting more, of course, it was pointless to ever hope it would quell your feelings in some way.

"well," harry begins, his voice shaky and quiet. "that didn't work."

you let out a nervous laugh, coughing to cover it up. "yeah…sorry." you mumble.

harry sighs. "no, i'm sorry. i'm technically your superior, i shouldn't be doing this to you. leading you on, flirting with you, for fuck's sake, following you around after hours…"

you shake your head. "look, i'm not kissing professor potter, okay? i like you, harry. i've liked you since i was 13. i don't want to ruin your position here either, and i'll stop if that's what you truly want…" you choke up just a bit before swallowing it back. "but, just, please, stop blaming yourself. i want this, too."

the silence returns, harry clearly thinking over what you said as his eyes stare off beside you. you're anxiously shifting your weight, watching his face get lost in his own thoughts.

"i can't risk this job," harry says finally. "i don't give a shit about the money, pay me everything in the world i would still want you…" he mumbles. you feel your stomach drop at this sentiment. you want him so, so badly. but… 

"but…" harry says.

you smile at him sadly, knowing what's coming. "i can't let down bill, or mcgonagall, or any professors or students here who may actually still like me," he says with a dry laugh. "if we ever got caught, and i just know we would, and what would happen to you…i just–" "i know, harry," you interrupt him, taking a small step towards him.

he smiles at you sadly as well. "and i agree. it's not worth it. well, you're worth it, of course…" you say shyly, diverting your gaze before continuing. "but, it's too risky. you deserve to finish out this semester without that hanging over your head, y'know?"

harry stares at you lovingly, no attempt to hide his adoration for you in this moment. "you're truly incredible. you know that?" harry comments softly.

you respond by blushing and crossing your arms. he hums softly, his smile taking over his cheeks. "thank you, really, for everything, if things were any different, i wish…" harry stumbles. you smile at him again. "i know."

harry returns to his gift, admiring the book in his hands over and over before putting it on the bookshelf next to his desk. he admires it there for a while as well before thanking you again.

as you're getting ready to leave, harry stops you for a moment. "if you don't mind, i'd still love to help you in your other classes. and, just, remain friendly in general still, if possible…"

you melt again at his soft demeanor. harry's such a sweetheart it's heartbreaking. all you want is to kiss him again. it's all you've wanted since he stopped.

"of course."

it's the end of the semester, and you have mixed feelings about it. on one hand you're dying for a break from classes. you've done the best you have in years this semester, and it's exhausted you. but you're incredibly grateful, for a lot of things. your new friends, your rediscovered love for hogwarts and magic in general, your overall improved attitude and mentality.

with special thanks to a certain substitute professor…

harry. this semester was definitely a rollercoaster for you when it came to harry. though, towards the end, things fell into place a bit more as you both accepted and embraced your odd, yet effective routine. professional student-professor relationship in public; smitten, teasingly love-sick old classmates in the comfort of his office walls. nothing further than lingering hands, loving stares, and the occasional compliment towing the line of what's inappropriate and what isn't.

though the dynamic wasn't ideal, you grew to love it for what it was. a simple, longing love that wasn't exactly unspoken anymore, but sure felt like it each passing day as you both pretended that kiss never happened.

that kiss. you swear you think about it every day. you long for harry to grab you like that again, to slip his tongue past your lips again…sometimes, late at night, it's all you can think about. sometimes just the thought of it makes you need to touch yourself, remembering how desperate he was for you, the feeling of his lips on yours, sitting on his desk in his office, just the image of it from outside of your own perspective could bring you to your orgasm alone in your room.

to say you were anxiously counting down the days until classes were over and harry technically wasn't employed with hogwarts anymore was an understatement. though you hadn't spoken about it with him, you felt it was okay to maybe consider that he would want to continue things further with you once his substitution was over. you kept your guard up as you knew he could still be uncomfortable with it while you were a student in general. but a large portion of you was practically praying that wasn't the case. you physically couldn't resist him much longer.

you were staying on campus for christmas this year, mostly just to savor your last holiday here, but also to continue seeing harry if possible.

it was the last day of classes, and you learned you passed all your exams with flying colors. you showed up to dark arts class early to inform harry excitedly, and he congratulated you with the same level of excitement.

"i knew you could do it! i told you you were smart." he beams. "i am so, so proud of you, [y/n]."

you want to hug him so badly, he's helped you so much this semester, you wouldn't have cared enough to try and get these kinds of grades without his guidance. but it's too public, and the risk is too high, so you just settle on an awkward high five and laugh emptily.

as other students walk in, you both pretend the moment never happened, and you sit in your seat without looking up from the floor.

the class is simple and rather uneventful as it's mostly everyone's last class of the semester. harry actually hands out christmas cookies hagrid made for everyone, and they're mediocre in taste, but the designs are so adorable you can't resist finishing it.

harry gives you all a speech thanking the class for trusting him to teach this semester, and for being respectful of him and professor weasley's lessons. he talks about how he's always thought about being a professor, but actually ended up despising the paperwork, and just missed his old job, which caused the class to chuckle with him.

he dismissed everyone with a happy christmas, specifically towards you, of course.

your heart aches a little as you leave the classroom and head to your room. you're going to miss harry as a professor, even if it caused complications in other aspects, it was inspiring to see him be so intelligent, helpful, and supportive in class. of course you were biased, you always found him to be amazing, but something about watching him teach a young wizard how to do a spell correctly for the first time just made you admire him so deeply.

you decided to rest for the night, knowing harry would be here for at least another day to collect all his items and clean the classroom up for professor weasley. you could talk to him then, what exactly about you weren't sure just yet, but you knew you had to tie up these loose ends before they drove you mad.

the next afternoon, you're practically one of the only students roaming the halls. most everyone leaves the first day of break to go home, and by christmas there's only a handful of students left.

arriving at harry's office door, you admire it one last time. your little sanctuary away from the world.

you knock, but to your dismay, there's no answer.

you knock again, a bit louder, but still, nothing. you decide to peak in, and notice how barren the desk looks from afar.

fuck. there's no way harry's left without speaking to you first.

you quickly walk to the dark arts classroom just down the hall, hoping he's cleaning and organizing it, but find it empty and dark. your heart sinks. he's gone.

you slowly walk back to your room, deciding you'll grab your coat and visit hagrid to see if harry's with him there. you try not to let your disappointment overcome you, there's still a chance you could talk to him…

entering your room, you immediately head for your coat rack by the window. you start to slip it on when you hear your door close, knowing you left it open on purpose to quickly leave.

you turn around, and it's harry.

you gasp, immediately dropping the coat and running to him, jumping into a hug. he laughs at your reaction, but embraces you nonetheless.

"hi, love," he says softly, resting his head on top of yours. you could hardly contain yourself at the pet name. it communicated so much to you with so little effort.

you look up at him, barely able to believe what's happening. harry looks at you knowingly. this unspoken tension. it was going to be the death of you.

as harry begins leaning in, you crash your lips together with his, immediately engulfing him into a heated, wanting, needing kiss.

harry's more than happy to give in to you. it's clear he's thought about this just as much as you have. he finished all his professor duties as soon as he could so he could officially, finally, be yours.

you guide harry to your bed, pushing him onto it as he gives you an impressed look, clearly intrigued by your repressed desperation.

you crawl onto his lap, immediately pulling him back into the kiss. harry's hands are all over you, finally, after fantasizing about it every night in this very same bed for months.

the kiss is desperate, full of moaning and getting sloppier by the minute. harry's squeezing and slapping your ass so hard you whimper in his arms, your hands gripping his button up tightly.

"fuck, [y/n], need you so bad, please," harry moans into your kiss, his hands sliding up your back. you reach to take your shirt off, left in just a bra and tiny skirt, as you start untying his tie and unbuttoning his shirt.

harry's staring at you with hunger in his eyes. "do you even understand how badly i've wanted you? you and these fucking skirts, you must think i'm stupid." he growls, pulling at the hem of your skirt. you blush and stifle a giggle, overwhelmed with how insanely hot you found this to be.

"think that's funny? you think it was funny when i had to stand in class all day and not stare at your perfect legs through your robe? anytime i gave a lecture and just looking at you turned you into a needy slut," harry grabs your hair, turning your attention to him as he unbuttons the rest of his shirt with his other hand. "was that fun for you, hm? did you enjoy teasing me all semester?"

you can't say anything. all you can do is nod. you were so turned on you could hardly think straight.

"i bet it was," he says, examining your desperate expression, his words dripping with desire.

he pulls you in for another kiss, and you help him take off his shirt. his skin was warm, soft, and his shoulders were broad. you moved your lips to his neck, leaving an obvious bite just below his collar to finally mark what was yours.

harry groans, his hands reaching behind your back to swiftly undo your bra. he helps pull it off of you, marveling at your chest. "beautiful," he tells you before attaching his lips to your skin. you hold his head against you, savoring the feeling and sight of harry leaving hickeys along the soft skin of your boobs.

his hand cups one softly as his tongue circles your nipple, watching you through his glasses as you melt into his hands. "harry…" you moan, your hand running through his soft hair.

he continues, starting to suck on your nipple softly with closed eyes, his other hand pulling up your skirt to feel your wetness through your panties.

you immediately whimper and lean into harry's touch, desperate for this for so long. "f-fuck," you stutter breathlessly.

harry smiles, taking his lips off of you to look up at your blushing face. "so wet already," he smirks.

you cover his face with your hands, embarrassed, giggling, continuing to further lean into his hand for pleasure.

he laughs and removes your hands, his eyes full of lust just looking at you in his lap.

"i need you, now," he insists, pushing you further onto his growing erection through his slacks. you let out a breathy moan feeling just how hard he is already. he's just as desperate as you've been for him.

"is that okay?" he asks carefully, watching for your reaction. you laugh a bit. "please. i've waited long enough." you joke.

you help harry take his pants and boxers off, as well as your skirt and panties, leaving you both naked in your room.

he sat back down on the bed, and invited you into his lap again. "just like this is perfect," he says, guiding your hips and admiring your body as you sit with his cock between you two, your eyes barely able to look away from it.

harry pulls you in for a kiss, his hands traveling over your body and stopping at your pussy again, his hand feeling just how wet you are. he moans into your kiss along with you and begins to slip his fingers inside of you, slowly, letting you react to him.

harry pushes further and further into you until you're practically riding his hand, your kiss barely kept together with you bouncing, desperate for more. "please," you insist, your hand gently grasping for his precum soaked cock.

harry smiles, gently pulling his fingers away before letting you guide yourself onto him. slowly at first, you enjoy the feeling of harry's cock stretching you open, whimpering as he watches you intently, his hands supporting your hips. eventually you feel yourself take him completely, your hips flush with his as you start to slowly grind your hips up and down.

harry's a mess, barely able to hold himself together just watching you adjust to his cock. your face twisting in pleasure, your soft whimpers, the tight feeling of your pussy squeezing around him, it was almost too much already.

"fuck, baby," harry's moaning, his hands gripping your hips for sanity. you can't help but giggle, you just love seeing him like this for you after dreaming about it for so long. he's so lost in pleasure already, his jaw slack and eyes dropping.

"i-i'm already, fuck [y/n], you're just so," harry can barely get the words out. hearing him moan your name so filthily motivated you to move your hips quicker, letting your tits bounce in his face as you continued to pick up speed.

"fuck, fuck, fuck," harry's panicking, you can tell he's already trying to hold back his orgasm. you find it extremely hot just how quickly you can bring him to this point. so hot it brings you closer to your orgasm with him, putting your hands on his face to look up at you.

"you feel so fucking good, harry," you tell him, your head rolling back in pleasure. he's in awe of you, his eyes memorizing every single inch of you as you continue to ride him.

"please, please, can you, um…" he takes a second between his words to moan. "please, can you call me professor potter…" he asks, clearly embarrassed by the request.

you rub his blushing cheeks between your hands, his question only making you more turned on. you loved knowing he was just as into the teacher/student dynamic as you had been.

"your cock feels so…so fucking good inside of me, professor potter," you moan, resting your forehead against harry's as you slow your pace, thoroughly enjoying the feeling of him.

harry's eyes roll back, sinful moans escaping his lips as his head falls forward, watching you ride him slowly as he begins slightly thrusting up into you. he looks back up at your eyes, exasperated. "i'm gonna cum if you don't stop," he quietly warns you, clearly feeling a bit guilty at his eagerness.

you smile. "please, please cum for me professor. i've been such a good girl for you this semester, haven't i?" you tease him. 

harry groans pathetically. "so, so good," his eyes are closed, his face twisting with each thrust. "then cum for me, please, give it to me," you beg him, your hands gripping his shoulders as you feel your stomach tensing from your own orgasm.

harry's eyes pop open, his gaze on you softening as his hands find your waist, gripping onto you desperately. "[y/n]..." he moans your name again, and you can feel yourself tipping over the edge. your pace becomes a bit slower as your legs start shaking.

harry moans as he starts to spill inside of you, the warm sensation fueling your orgasm as you both hold onto each other tightly, riding out your highs together.

after a few moments of slow grinding and weak kissing, you carefully stand up from your position on harry's lap. you guide him to your bathroom, where you help each other clean up, with a few more inevitable kisses and longing hugs along the way.

you get dressed into different clothes, and offer harry some as well. he declines, instead putting his clothes back on as he tells you he has to bring all his supplies back to his house.

you help him button his shirt back up and tie his tie before pushing yourself to ask the dreaded question you didn't want to know the answer to.

"so," you say softly. "what now?"

harry looks down at you lovingly, but he isn't quite smiling. "well, i'm no longer employed here," he states. you nod your head slowly, allowing him to continue.

"so, while it's not technically wrong, i'd still like to try and take this off campus, if possible," harry chuckles.

you give him a surprised look. "you want to see me again?" you ask quietly. harry can't help but laugh at you, kissing your forehead as he holds your cheek.

"you have no idea," is all he says before he leans in for another kiss, holding you close, knowing you're finally his.

[kayleighwinchester]

Praise

(( Another Jensen-a-Thon drabble for @artyandink's lovely event! This one is separate from the previous two - more coming for those later! This is based loosely off of real events - no, Graay, I still haven't forgiven you for not telling me I did a good job healing Trial of the Crusader that night. ))

You're a grown adult.

You're a grown adult, and a damn good hunter. You shouldn't need validation to remind you of that. You don't need validation. 

At least, you don't think you do.

It had started off innocently enough. You’d hunted with the Winchesters for years - practically every job they took, unless Dean royally pissed you off, which happened, at most, once or twice a year – and after every job, without fail, Dean would loop you in a one-armed hug, pull you close to his side, and press a kiss to your temple, offering a quick, but utterly genuine, ‘good job’ – or, if he was feeling particularly proud (or particularly frisky), ‘good girl’. It didn’t matter how well the job actually went - hell, he’d said it a few times when everything had gone completely off the rails. He'd said it when you were all bruised and bloody and hurting and half-dead and nothing felt okay, much less good.

When it came down to it, though, you don’t need his praise to know that you were doing your job well.

It wasn’t on purpose, you knew that much. That last job - a nest of vamps down in Tucson - had gone entirely sideways, and you were sure that giving you any sort of praise was the farthest thing from Dean's mind. Sam had almost died, you were pretty sure Dean had at least three or four broken ribs… Still, you didn't feel right, getting into the car in the silence that followed, broken only by occasional grumbles, groans, and hisses of pain.

You couldn't place why, exactly, the silence bothered you, but it was grating on your nerves, making you feel more irritable than you could remember being in a long time. Even Sam could feel the tension in the car building on the way back to the motel, and it wasn’t long before Dean picked up on it as well. The eldest Winchester cleared his throat, glancing your way. “Wanna go get a few drinks once we get cleaned up? I could really use a beer.” He offered, eyes darting from you to Sam, as if begging his brother to back him up. You offered a shrug in response. “Or we could stop at that diner ‘cross the street from the motel. Got a sign sayin’ they make their pie fresh every day.” He tried again, simply earning himself another shrug from you, and a confused glance from Sam.

It finally made sense when Sam spoke up – clearly trying to smooth things over, trying to put you in a better mood, offering, “You did a great job back there, Y/N.” It worked, at least a little – you could at least force yourself to smile at him, even if it didn’t feel entirely genuine. 

Dean’s eyes cut to you, and as he caught your smile, the gears started turning – you saw several expressions cross his face in quick succession: confusion; realization; annoyance; exasperation. “That's what this is about?” He demanded. “You're throwin' a whole fit ‘cause I didn't tell you that you did good today?”

“I’m not throwing a fit.” You offered halfheartedly.

You weren’t expecting Dean to pull the car over on the gravel shoulder, casting Sam a stare – the younger Winchester stared back for a moment, before Dean raised his eyebrows. “Backseat.” He ordered, pointing. Sam looked baffled – and you were sure you did as well.

Dean was barely fighting a smile, even despite his clear exhaustion. “C’mon, Sweetheart.” He waved toward the front seat, motioning for you to switch with Sam. You hesitated a moment, looking to Sam – he still looked just as confused as you were – before you obediently left the backseat, trading places with Sam. Dean was already leaning forward to pull his box of cassettes up onto the seat between you. 

You settled into the passenger seat, your backpack between your feet, taking in the amused grin that lit up Dean’s face, growing with every passing moment, looking out of place among the blood, dirt, and bruises there.

He glanced up at you, taking in the confusion still painted onto your face. “Since ‘m apparently breakin’ rules,” He drawled out, his stare a bit more pointed at the words – it had never been a rule, and you all knew it – “what’s one more, huh?” There, shoved between two cassettes - Metallica and Mötley Crüe – was the iPod adapter Sam had bought (the one you were quite sure Dean had thrown out the window the moment he’d seen it). “Just try not to make my ears bleed too bad, huh?” 

As you dug through your backpack for your iPod, Dean leaned down, his face close to yours, his lips against your ear, his voice low enough that Sam wouldn’t hear.

“‘N when we get back to the motel, I’ll tell Sammy to take a hike, ‘n I’ll tell you what a good girl you are as many times as you want.”

[multi-fandom-imagine]

Alone || Simon “Ghost” Riley ||

A/n: Takes place during the mission Alone, though Ghost took a bullet for you, so you decide to patch him up where both of your feelings slip out.

Prompts Used:

“come on… wake up. please… please wake up”

“ hey, hey… look at me, okay? you gotta get up now. you think you might be able to walk? ‘cause they sent for back-up, and if they find us… we cannot let them find us. understand?”

“i’ll get blood on your shirt…”

[ BANDAGE ]:the sender sits down across from the receiver and begins to bandage their wounds.

" don't you touch her”

" i love you. i... i know this isn't the best time or place but... i do. i love you. "

It had all happened so fast, the gun in your face was something you weren’t expecting from someone who you were working with, someone you tursted.

“Step forward Y/n.”

You tried not to flinch from Graves voice though you were suddenly pulled back, Ghost broad back blocking your view. "don't you touch her” the man snarled.

“You do not want to do this, hand the medic over Ghost.”

Then the situation got worse, Alejandro got captured. You were pushed to the ground as Ghost started to take men out then the next thing you knew you were being carried off.

You were panting from how fast you ran though it finally dawned on you that Ghost was the one by your side. Panicking you watched as the man start to slump forward, you did your best to steady him against the wall of one of the buildings. “Shit! Ghost.” Seeing his eyes closed you started to rationalize what to do. Hand shaking, you slowly reached up pulling his mask off. You did your best to fight the warmth creeping up your face not expecting the man to be so handsome.

“Don’t think about that! He needs you.” Placing your fingers against his neck you felt relief flood through you feeling a pulse. “Thank god.”

Standing up, you glanced around spotting a Military van a few feet away. Once you were sure no one was near by you slowly crept towards the van. Luck being on your side when you found a medic bag. Taking a breath to calm yourself you snatched the bag rushing off to the unconscious man. Kneeling down in front of him, you started to slowly peel off the vest he wore. Blinking back the tears you started to patch the bullet wound, the bullet he took for you. Sniffling you wiped his blood off of your hands. “come on… wake up. please… please wake up”

Hearing a groan, you sat up wanting to hug the man but refrained from doing so. “Ghost?”

“Shit…Y/n.You’re alive? Where the hell.” Placing his hands on his cheek he was surprised not to feel his mask.

“I’m sorry, I had to take it off. I had to make sure you were alive.”

Simon tensed, part of him wanted to yell at you, scream at you asking why you would do such a thing. But then he remembered Graves pointing a gun at you, that he wanted you for something. He hated that feeling, that gut wrenching feeling about the thought of losing you. How could he blame you when you save his life. “It’s fine Y/n. You don’t have to cry on me. Not when you did what you had to do.”

Watching him, you frowned seeing how he was struggling to stand. “hey, hey… look at me, okay? you gotta get up now. you think you might be able to walk? ‘cause they sent for back-up, and if they find us… we cannot let them find us. understand?” The cars were everywhere meaning they were looking for you, for Ghost, for Soap. God you hoped he made it out alive.

Snorting, Simon grabbed an adrenaline shot. Stabbing it in his chest, he shivered quickly standing up. “i’ll get blood on your shirt…”

“I’m more worried about you dying than the blood on my shirt. Now let’s get going alright.”

“Ya! Ya, we gotta head to the church.” Ghost did his best not to slur though it was becoming a problem.

•+•

It felt like hours getting to the church but you were happy knowing that Soap was alive and Ghost seemed to be doing better which helped your anxiety. Nibbling your lip you stepped closer to the man, his eyes were trained on the window for any signs of Soap.

“I….I never thanked you. For saving me Simon…Ghost.” You quickly corrected yourself though you were surprised to hear the man chuckle.

“You do not need to thank me Y/n. I had my reasons, I wasn’t about it let that bastard get his hands on someone I.” Stopping himself, he could feel your gaze on his back.

“Someone you what?”

Sighing, Simon grabbed his mask then lifted it off his face. If he was going to confess his feelings to you he at least wanted to look you in the eyes and do it, to not be Ghost for once. “Y/n.” Working his jaw he did his best to get the words out, he never experienced anything like this so he was unsure on how to act. "I love you. i... i know this isn't the best time or place but... i do. i love you.”

Blinking, you wanted to make sure that you heard him right. You thought you were hearing things, you thought they this had to be a dream. Simon Riley…Ghost. One of the best agents must admitted that he loved you.

“You…love me?”

“Yes! I rather not repeat myself and I -.” Though he was quickly cut off from your lips pressing against his own.

Breaking the kiss, you grabbed his hand still careful, not wanting to hurt him. “I love you to Simon.”

Sighing, a small smile formed on his face as he pressed his head against your own. “Stay close to my side. Ya….I don’t want to lose ya.”

Smiling, you opened your mouth to reply until you heard Soaps voice on the line. “Let’s get the fuck out of here. We need to play Graves a little visit.”

Letting out a playful growl, Simon pulled you in for another kiss then placed his mask back on his face. “I do love it when you get angry.”

Tagging:

@redpool

[t-r99]

Obsessed

Oliver loves you so much, why can't you see that?

Oliver Aiku x fem reader

College au

Aiku is lowkey a lunatic (completey delusional & unhinged)

warnings: stalking, mental torture, manipulation, deception, gaslightning, coercion || anxiety, paranoia, brief panic attack || dub con bordering on non con (blink and you miss it brief and tame smut at the end *whispers* spooning)

This was supposed to be pure porn but I changed my mind. It did not turn out the way I wanted.

Quick background: mc is being stalked by someone who keeps texting and sending pictures and has been for weeks.

Given that this is a blue lock fic, all of readers friends are guys heh.

wc: 10k

God, why did I stay so long? You think. You usually don't stay at the library for this long, preferring to quickly find the books you need in the moment then leave.

Staying this long means you'll walk home well after sunset. Hours after sunset means it's dark. Darkness means it's easier to follow people. Following someone walking alone means-

I'm overthinking again. You sigh.

This is torture.

It's been a few days since the last text you received. You can't help but to open your phone several times a day and read all the shit the person has sent in the past few weeks, hoping to figure out who they are.

It feels like you're being watched.

You take in every last little detail of your surroundings.

A few people are out and walking who knows where, some of them familiar. You've seen them at school.

Almost home, You tell yourself. The apartment building you call home is less than a minute away.

You turn to look behind you, but no one is following you like you thought . . . and it feels like you're going crazy.

At this point, you expect a text from another unknown ID welcoming you home. The guy on the other side does it sometimes. It's bad enough that he knows which building you live in, you just hope he doesn't know which apartment is yours. You may as well dig your own grave if he does.

The elevator feels suffocating when you step in. You're alone but you keep expecting it to stop before it reaches your floor and that someone else will step in.

What if he steps in? What if you end up alone in this tiny little box with your worst nightmare and-

Ding.

You gasp at the sound, only staying still for a half a second before stepping out.

Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God. What if he's is behind you? What if he's waiting for you to open the door so he can push you in and trap you?

You turn around, heart pounding.

There's no one there.

Just as you unlock your door, another opens a few steps away and you hear familiar voices. Out of the other apartment steps Aiku, and then you see Otoya, they're saying bye for tonight. It's the latter's apartment, you remember.

Aiku spots you but you look away and ignore him. You know them both, not that you particularly like them or enjoy their company, it's just that you share the same friends. You almost wish you were actually being followed for a second so Otoya and Aiku could beat the guy senseless.

Otoya pops his head out the doorframe and asks if you're okay when he sees that you're stressed.

Ignoring them both, you step inside and close the door behind you.

Home.

You're home.

I'm home, You tell yourself, repeating it iver and over for a few seconds.

There's a knock on the door and your heart almost leaps out of your chest.

It's him, it's him, it's him, it's hi-

You hear a familiar voice call your name, followed by, "Everything okay?" It's Aiku.

You gulp and take a deep breath before cracking the door just enough to see his face. Otoya is standing behind him and asks, "Something happen?"

"I'm fine, I," You gulp again, feeling lightheaded. "I just need some rest."

"Sure?" Aiku asks. "You look a bit pale."

"I'm fine, I promise." You insist. "I'm going to bed."

"'kaaay," Otoya gives a peace sign. "night."

You close the door and take a moment to try to calm yourself.

*

Outside, Otoya strains to not laugh out loud. He can't help it, though, forced to slap a hand against his mouth to muffle the sound of his amused giggling.

Aiku hushes him and smirks. "Shut up, you'll ruin everything." He says.

"Seriously, dude, why do you even bother at this point?"

Who knows? Maybe Oliver has gotten a bit obsessed. He won't give up until he gets what he wants, and he wants you.

Aiku doesn't just want sex. He wants you.

"It'll be worth it." He says.

Sure, you don't want him yet, but you will soon.

*

You feel a bit better after a long and warm shower, not a lot, but at least it's something.

You haven't eaten. Honestly, you can't find it in you to eat these days. Sometimes two or even three days pass before you realize you're starving. You've been losing weight for weeks, and looking in the mirror now you see just how much it has affected you.

Aiku was right, you're pale.

Look at me. You feel disgusted by the sight.

It takes you a few moments to force yourself to look away and leave the bathroom to go get dressed. Despite living several floors above the ground, with no buildings facing your bedroom window, you still feel the need to pull the curtain to hide.

What if he is watching? It's impossible to know.

You quickly get dressed, not comfortable with being naked even in your own bedroom with the windows covered, and then it happens again.

Two quick vibrations, the sound of a text, make your heart stop for a second.

Again, two vibrations.

Another two . . .

That's three texts.

Your hand shakes as you reach out for the phone that you honestly just want to smash up. You want to throw away all your electronics and find a cave out in the wilderness to hide in so no one will ever be able to contact you again.

The first one says exactly what you expect, Welcome home.

He was watching you walk home.

You shouldn't be out alone in the dark, it's dangerous. The second text is almost funny.

The third makes your blood run cold, Don't worry. I'll protect you.

When will this end?

While you're holding the phone, he sends a picture. This is the fourth time he's done this exact thing, having written, I don't know where you live. Maybe I should come in and knock on every door until I find yours.

It's a picture of the entrance to the building.

There's a knock on your apartment door.

. . . No.

You dare not move.

Should you look through the peephole? What if it's him and you finally get to see who it is? It could be someone you know, or maybe a complete stranger.

Another knock.

Go away. You want to scream. You want to yell at him to leave you alone.

No more knocks follow.

You don't know how long you stand frozen in your spot, taking slow breaths and standing as still and as quietly as you can.

Only when your feet hurt from standing there for so long do you finally snap out of it. You take your phone and set it to airplane mode, and you lock yourself in the bathroom.

There you remain until morning.

Of course you don't sleep.

You think about calling a friend to come over so you won't have to walk to school alone, or maybe you should just skip today and stay home.

Please . . . You curl up in the corner and sob. I can't take it anymore.

It feels like an eternity has passed when you leave the bathroom.

Staying home felt like the best thing to do. At least he doesn't know which apartment is yours so you can just stay in and not go out where he can spot and follow you again.

Your phone is still on airplane mode and you contemplate turning the function off. Will you only find texts from your friends asking why you didn't show up today or will you get more messages from him?

I'm hungry. You didn't eat last night.

There's very little in your kitchen and your heart sinks when you realize you have to go get some groceries soon.

There's a knock . . .

You gasp at the sound and turn to look at the door. It's the middle of the day so there's no way it's him. He only fucks with you after dark so-

Another knock.

You faintly hear someone call your name. "It's Otoya, you okay in there?"

That's a relief.

The front door cracks open and you look up at him. Otoya rarely shows much emotion on his face but you actually see some worry in his eyes. "Everything okay? You didn't show up at school."

You gulp. "I don't . . . feel very well." Your voice is hoarse and your throat feels rough, itching as you speak.

"I noticed last night. I just wanted to make sure you were all right so I knocked but you didn't answer."

Oh, it was him? It was just Otoya, not the guy on the other end of the phone. "Sorry," You say quietly. "I must've fallen asleep." You lie.

"No worries. Just come over if you ever need anything, yeah?"

"Yeah." You murmur. "Thanks."

You wonder just how messed up you look if it's enough to make Otoya of all people worry.

I'm going crazy. You close the door and sniffle, eyes welling with tears.

A few quiet days pass and it is actually nerve wracking. Normally you would be happy, no texts, no paranoia and the feeling of being watched, but after those texts and the picture of the building entrance you just can't relax.

It feels like the calm before the storm.

You can't shake off the feeling that you're being watched everywhere you go, on campus, on the road, sometimes even when you're at home, feeling the need to check every inch of the apartment multiple times a day to make sure you're actually alone.

"You okay? You've been staring at the textbook forever." Chigiri's voice pulls you from your thoughts.

"Hm?"

He looks worried. Everyone has been worried about you lately, it makes you feel hopeless and pathetic. "More stalker texts?"

You shake your head. "Not for a few days." Your voice is small, heavy with sleep deprivation. "But everytime someone calls or texts or," Just talking about this makes you nauseous. "whenever someone knocks on my door I don't know what to think."

Before Chigiri can say anything else, a few of the other guys show up. Isagi comes and reminds him that they have training soon.

Why does it feel like all eyes are on you?

You're uncomfortable.

"I think I'll go home." You say. Before it gets dark.

"Sure you'll be okay on your own?" Chigiri asks.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, it's fine." You clear your throat and close your textbook. "I'm fine." You insist.

Keeping your gaze down, you ignore everyone and mutter a quick bye, missing the way a pair of dual coloured eyes watch you walk away.

Thank goodness that the sun is still high in the sky as you walk home.

Is this to be your new normal? Are you supposed to live the rest of your life in a constant state of panic?

Still no texts. No creepy pictures of your building. No knocking on the door. To be fair, it was Otoya, not some creepy lunatic of a stalker.

You sit down on your bed with a defeated bed then fall back.

"I hate this." You whisper.

It's been a week since the night you spent terrified in the bathroom. He has still not sent anything, and for once you're actually in a better mood. Maybe he got bored of me, You think, and you truly hope that that's the case.

The days are growing shorter and colder. Winter is right around the corner and you wonder how you'll feel once it starts getting dark outside earlier. Your mind drifts back to the text that said, You shouldn't be out alone in the dark, it's dangerous.

Yeah, it can be dangerous alright. You haven't felt safe in a long time thanks to the bastard.

You're getting ready to eat, reaching up to the cabinet to grab a plate when there's a knock on the door.

Is it him?

Fuck, what if it is?

No, nothing has happened lately, You tell yourself.

More knocking . . .

You set the plate down on the counter and go to the door, wondering if it's one of your friends. Quite a few of them live in the same building, cheap and close to campus.

Upon opening the door, you find that there's no one there.

Oh, God . . .

Fuck. Shit, shit, fuck.

Your phone vibrates and the sound makes you jump.

You don't want to check it.

No.

Damn it.

When will this stop?

*

It's kind of funny. Otoya peers over Aiku's shoulder and cracks up. "Dude, you'll end up giving the chick a heart attack one day."

What Oliver wants is to be there when you need someone and be the one you lean on for emotional support. He'll have you depending on him in no time. "Hey, you told her to come over if she needs help, right?"

"Uh huh."

Aiku hopes you'll do it now. He's going at this pretty hard and doubts you'll stay alone in your apartment when you think your stalker is in the building. Everyone you know in the building live on other floors while Otoya's apartment is the only one close to yours. Come on, doll, don't disappoint me now.

Oliver wants to jump and pump his fist in success when he hears a knock on Otoya's door. He stays on the couch while his friend goes to open, hearing him say, "Hey, you okay?"

Aiku gets off the couch and goes to the hall where you're standing right outside. You're trying to keep yourself calm but he can see panic in your eyes, those beautiful eyes that should be on him and only him. "Have, uhm . . ." You close your eyes and take a deep breath. "Have you heard anyone outside?"

"No, why?" Otoya feigns ignorance. "Are you sure you're okay? You're shaking."

Oliver almost feels bad, but he just needs to make sure his plan works. If everything ends up working out then he's only a few days away from being able to call you his and hold and comfort you. "Stalker again?" He asks.

Aiku doesn't like using that word. It makes him feel like a creep. He's not a creep, he just wants you to be his but you're not making it easy for him.

Your only reply is a small nod.

Otoya steps aside. "Okay, come on. Come in." He urges you to step inside and you're more than happy to. "What happened this time? Did he text again?"

"I- I think he . . . I think he's i- in the building."

Oh, you poor thing.

Oliver tells you to sit down on the couch. You're holding your phone, clutching it tightly.

He doesn't need to give Otoya a look that silently asks him to help out. His friend already knows what to do while Oliver talks to you and tries to calm you down.

Your mind is racing with a million questions, but it goes blank when your phone vibrates in your hand and you look down at it in terror, too scared to check the text.

Oliver looks down at it. "Here, let me." He offers. Your hand is shaking when he takes it from you. "It's okay, I got you." He takes your hand in his and rubs soothing circles on the back. What did Otoya text, he wonders.

Aiku wants to laugh when he reads it. It includes the number of Otoya's apartment, followed by, Is this your place? I can hear your pretty voice coming from inside.

Damn, he really couldn't have asked for a better bro.

"What . . . What does . . ."

Oliver hushes you gently and locks the phone instead of showing you. "It's okay, we'll deal with the guy."

Otoya steps behind the couch. "What's up?"

"You want to check if there's anyone in the hall?" Oliver asks. He's still holding your hand.

"I got it." Otoya gives a thumbs up and heads out. You want to tell him to stay inside, scared that the stalker might be dangerous, but your voice gets caught in your throat.

"Hey, it's okay." Oliver says softly. "Everything will be okay." He lets go of your hand and puts his arm around you instead when you exhale shakily and sob hopelessly.

You're just tired at this point. The past several weeks have left you so paranoid and terrified that you can't sleep. You don't eat, barely drink, you struggle to take care of yourself. It's beyond tiring. "I'm scared . . ." You whisper.

Oliver holds you close. He feels all warm inside like this, loving the feeling of your smaller body in his embrace like he's wanted for so long. He looks down at where your cheek is pressed against his chest and put his other arm around you comfortingly.

You're his.

You don't know it yet but you are his.

*

I fell asleep . . . Your eyes flutter partially open. You wonder when you did, and how you even managed to given how scared you were. How scared you still are.

A pair of arms are around you. You open your eyes further and see that you're in an apartment you don't recognize, then you look up and see that you're being held by a sleeping Aiku, and you remember that you're in Otoya's apartment.

You don't exactly dislike the two, it's just that you don't like their womanizing and their attitudes. Who would have ever thought that you would go to Otoya's place in a panic and be comforted by Aiku of all people?

Oliver wakes up when you move in his arms. "Hey," He clears his throat and blinks. "Hey, you feel any better?"

A tiny bit maybe. "I guess." You say in a small voice. You still don't want to go back to your own apartment where you'll just end up hiding in the bathroom at the sound of your phone receiving a text or a knock on your door.

Aiku can easily see that you're still shaken up and he hopes you'll let him hold you like this even longer.

You exhale shakily. "I don't want to be alone . . ."

"You're not alone, I got you." He rubs your back gently.

It feels nice . . . "Thank you." You whisper, relaxing further against him.

Oliver bites his bottom lip and smiles. You're starting to warm up to him, it's perfect.

It's been a few days and you can't stop thinking about that night. Otoya didn't find anyone in the hallway so you still have no idea who he is, but the one thing you can't stop thinking about is how comforting it was to be held by Aiku.

You feel ridiculous for it, even more so whenever you see him and feel your cheeks heat up.

He asks how you're doing everyday now and if anything else has happened since that night.

It's embarrassing how you almost immediately relaxed so much you actually fell asleep in his arms back then and it makes you want to avoid him.

Oliver hates that. He was so happy to have finally managed to push you to him for support, but now you don't talk to him other than short answers where you tell him you're doing okay whenever he asks, and he can't stand it.

He hates having to scare you so much. Why are you being so stubborn? Why do you try to hide how much it affects you? All you're doing is forcing his hand at this point. Why won't you just let him in?

He contemplates sending a text or two or maybe a picture of your apartment building. Those don't usually do much, though. Aiku exhales heavily as he tries to think of something more effective.

The door knocking was enough to get you to go to Otoya's apartment, but no more than that.

What to do? What to do?

Oliver doesn't want to threaten you. He doesn't want to scare you like that. You're his special girl, after all.

What to do?

*

It's gotten dark, You think grimly.

Classes are done for the day and now you're forced to walk home in the dark. The boys have training in a bit so you can't walk back to the student apartments with any of them, and all your other friends live in the opposite direction. It would be rude to ask someone to accompany you home and in turn force them to walk twice as far back to their own place.

Damn bastard.

Your phone vibrates in your pocket and you pick it up.

The colour drains from your face when you unlock it and open the text you've received, a picture of you right this moment.

The picture has been taken from your left. You turn in a flash to see if you can spot the stalker, but you only see your peers. Some are standing in groups and talking to their friends, others are looking down at their phones as they're leaving for the day.

Who is it?

Who could it be?

Where is he?

"Hey,"

You spin around with a sharp gasp at the feeling of someone touching your arm.

"Shit, did something happen?" It's just Aiku. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." He steps back to give you space. "What happened?"

You're breathing too fast for comfort now, unable to speak. All you manage to do is point in the direction behind you and look down at your phone.

"Again? What the hell does the guy want now? Show me."

Hands shaking, you take a moment to unlock your phone and open your texts. Aiku takes your phone and reads the message from the No Caller ID that says, You look really good today. He open the picture and takes a sharp breath.

"Sick fuck." He spits. "Hey, don't look down at it. Look at me." He holds your shoulder. "Look at me. It's okay, I'm right here. You're not alone now, okay?"

You're not alone.

Aiku is with you right now and that brings you comfort.

"'m scared . . ."

"I know," He says softly. "I know. Everything will be okay, we'll figure out who the guy is."

You've lost any hope of that happening.

"Hey, come on, I'll walk you home, yeah?"

You gulp. "B- But . . . practice . . ."

"It's fine. I can skip this one time. You shouldn't be alone right now."

You only nod at that, grateful to not be on your own. Having Aiku walk next you makes you feel safer than you have in months, but you honestly feel guilty about all this and want to apologize for having go through all this trouble just because you're too scared to do anything on your own.

"How you holdin' up?"

You look down at the ground as you keep walking. "I'm sorry."

"Huh?" Oliver turns to you. "What for?"

"For . . . all this."

Why are you apologizing? You have nothing to be sorry for. "What, for being scared?" Aiku asks. "For needing help? I'd be surprised if you weren't scared. Everyone needs support sometimes, it's nothing to be ashamed of."

You're fighting back tears. "But I . . . I- I shouldn't need to be walked home like this."

Oliver frowns at that. Does that mean you don't want him there? You're really not making this easy for him. "It's okay, I don't mind."

You finally look up and turn to him, eyes glossy with unshed tears. Aiku wonders if you'll let him wipe them from your cheeks if they fall. He would love nothing more than to comfort you like a man and hold you close. He can't even begin to imagine how good it would feel.

When you turn away from him to look ahead again, Oliver carefully takes his phone and does his utmost to make sure you don't spot it.

He sets his caller ID to hidden and types away . . .

You're startled by the feeling of your phone vibrating. You've grown to hate it. Most of the time it signals a text from a hidden number from your nightmares.

You read the text. It sends chills down your spine. Got a boyfriend, huh? Did you forget about me, sweetheart? It says.

You freeze in your tracks and Aiku stops a step later.

"You good?"

No. No you're not.

You simply hold the screen out for him to read. Aiku puts a hand on your shoulder and pulls you closer to him. You look up at his hard face, he's looking all around you. "Damn psycho." He mutters harshly. "Come on, let's hurry."

He doesn't need to tell you twice.

Terrified out of your mind, you reach both hands out and hold his arm for safety. It's not much, but it does make you feel a bit better.

Oliver swears his heart skips a few beats at that. He has to use all his strength to restrain himself. Fuck, you're killing him with how long this is taking.

He stays by your side all the way up to your apartment, and there you find it impossible to let go of his arm. "Will you be okay from now on?"

Of course you won't. You shake your head in reply.

"You know," He feels warm. "I could stay over and make sure nothing happens until tomorrow. And Otoya will go home soon enough, I'll call for him if something does happen."

You really don't want to be alone. "I . . . You don't have to."

Sure, you might be saying that, but your body leans even closer against his and you let out a shaky breath.

"I'm staying." Oliver says. It's not a question. "I can't leave when you're this shaken up."

Maybe Aiku can finally scare the stalker away. "Okay . . ." You truly hope he can because this is getting ridiculous and you're exhausted.

Once he's inside, Oliver wants to yell out in triumph at how easy it was to get you to agree. Only a few more days and he won't have to keep at it. All you need to do is let him all the way in and he can put the whole thing to rest and enjoy you.

Your apartment is cute, just like you are. Oliver could stay here forever, and if his plan succeeds then he might just be able to.

*

Oliver decides not to send anything for now. He hates scaring you so much, and you were pretty shaken up on the walk to your apartment. It wouldn't hurt to prepare in advance, though.

You're currently taking a quick shower.

Aiku steps into your bedroom and takes a deep breath. He's never felt like this before.

He listens carefully to make sure the shower is still on.

Only a few minutes later, you step out of the bathroom with no idea of where Oliver went just minutes prior. He's still on the sofa and watching tv, just as he was when you left to shower.

Strangely enough, you don't feel uncomfortable with him there. Only a few months ago you would have rather drank acid than let him into your home, but now his presence puts you at ease.

He notices you and offers a smile. "Feel any better?"

"Yeah, a bit." You say softly.

Oliver exhales slowly when you turn around to go to the kitchen. You really are the prettiest girl he's ever seen. He can't stop thinking about what you look like under your clothes and how pretty you would luck under him.

You're his beautiful girl. He's counting the seconds to when he can finally say it outloud.

"Do you want anything to eat or drink?" You ask.

"Nah, I'm fine." Oliver shakes his head.

What he wants is you.

Earlier, he decided to give you a few days of peace, but now he wants to send only one text. If you get anxious again then he can be there and hold you and help you calm down.

You drink some water and take a moment to think about everything. You're lucky to have friends who care, even when you insist you're okay on your own. Even Aiku of all people is going out of his way to make sure you're not alone.

It's actually not as awkward as you thought it would be. He doesn't annoy or pester you with endless questions, instead talking to you about other things in an effort to get your mind off things.

It works, for some time.

"Are you sure about staying? I feel like I'm just inconveniencing you."

Once again, Oliver thinks you don't want him there and he feels like he's been punched in the gut. "If it helps you feel any safer, I'm more than happy to." He says. Oliver won't let you push him away now that he's so close to getting what he wants.

It's getting late.

You've brought a pillow and covers for him sleep on the sofa, and for the third time today your phone receives a text from a hidden caller ID.

It's a short text that reads, Good night, pretty girl. Sweet dreams.

Oliver frowns next to you when you tense up. "What is it? Show me."

When will it end?

He takes your phone from you and set it down on the table in front of the sofa. "The guy better pray I never find him." He mutters quietly. "Okay, c'mere, I got you." He puts an arm around your shoulders and pulls you close.

You're even more grateful to have him there now. If you were alone you would probably lock yourself in the bathroom and cry your eyes out again. "I can't take it anymore . . ." You whimper into his chest.

Oliver hushes you softly and puts his hand on the back of your head. He leans back against the sofa and pulls you with him, now rubbing your back soothingly. It feels so good to hold you like this, he can't get enough of it.

This feels oddly calming.

Like this, all you hear is the sound of his steady heartbeat. It's soothing, helping you relax with each soft thump.

You finally manage to slow your breathing down and sigh, going limp against him. "Thank you . . ."

Oliver smiles down at you and combs his fingers through your soft hair. "Close your eyes," He says softly. "I got you."

You wake up the next morning and find that you're still in Oliver's arms. He has pulled the covers over you and is awake, running his fingers through your hair.

When he notices that you've woken up, he smiles softly. "Hey there, how do you feel?"

You want to die.

Death would be preferable to being constantly watched by some lunatic out there.

You close your eyes again. "I'm tired." You whisper. Tired of being scared, tired of constantly looking over your shoulder, tired of feeling helpless.

"Sleep well?"

The feeling of him playing with your hair is a nice one. It's weird to see such a soft side of Aiku when you've known him for a while and seen his goofier side with your shared friends. "Yeah," You mumble. "thank you."

Oliver is loving this.

Strangely enough, the following several days are quiet.

Neither of you actually agreed to it outloud, but Aiku now accompanies you on your walk home from campus everyday and it becomes a routine. If he's busy with practice or has classes after yours have all ended then you wait, and it feels nice to have him walk by your side.

You get suspicious when you don't receive any texts from the stalker, wondering when he'll send you something again and what the text will say. Ever since Oliver stayed over that night it's been radio silence.

Your friends are just as confused by the lack of texts and a few are hopeful that it means the stalker just grew tired of tormenting you, the rest are worried about what he'll send in the future.

"Bitch ass." You mumble to yourself. You hate the guy more than anything and you wish the worst for him.

It's the weekend and you've been studying ever since you came home from school.

Your phone vibrates next to you but it's not from the stalker, it's Oliver calling you.

Never in a million years would you have ever thought that seeing Aiku's contact calling you would make you feel all warm inside.

He's asking how you're doing and if everything's okay.

"Everything's fine," You say. "I try not to think about all that now that it's quiet."

"Fucking finally. Let's just hope nothing happens."

"Yeah." You sigh. "I think I'll go to bed, I'm getting tired. Thank you for being there."

"You don't need to thank me, doll, I'm happy to help." Oliver says. "I didn't want to bother by coming over, but I'm at Sendou's and getting ready to leave. He lives two floors below you."

While he talks, your phone quickly vibrates in your hand and you quickly set it on speaker to check the text you've received. It makes you jump in your seat and quickly turn around to look around in the room.

Oliver hears you shuffling around as you stand up and storm out of your bedroom to turn all the lights in your apartment. He asks if you're okay but you don't hear his voice in this state.

He is there.

He's there, he's in there, he's in your apartment.

He's watching you, you can feel it.

It feels like he'll pop out and grab you any second now.

I can't breathe. Your head feels light, like everything is spinning. I can't breathe. I can't breathe.

You drop your phone and try to reach the door instead. You can't stay in there, not when he is in the apartment and watching you.

Suddenly there's loud knocking on your door and you almost scream when the sound startles you.

Is he outside or inside right now? Is he in the apartment or knocking on the door to get in?

Where is he? Where?

You hear your name being called.

The voice is familiar.

It takes you a few seconds to find the strength to stand up and reach the door, your hands shaking as you try to unlock it.

A few seconds pass and you look behind you, vision blurry and cheeks wet with tears.

There's no one behind you.

Where is he?

Finally unlocking the door, you fling it open and find Aiku and Sendou standing outside and looking worried. Oliver reaches out to hold your shoulders but you step forward instead and cling to him as your legs go weak and give out.

"Hey, hey, what happened? What's going on?" Oliver quickly asks. "What's wrong?"

"H- Here . . . Here . . . He- He's here . . ." You can't breathe. You can't breathe.

Oliver hold you close and hushes you by your ear.

You hear Sendou walking down the hall and knock on a door. It opens, Otoya, and Sendou tells him to follow. They enter your apartment while Oliver sits down on the hallway floor with you in his arms. "Easy now, I got you. I got you, you're safe, I'm right here." Oliver says softly.

You sob into his chest, terrified.

"There's no one in there." You hear Sendou's voice. "Here. Look." He shows Oliver the text on your phone that's still unlocked.

You've got a nice apartment. I really like your bedroom. It's cute.

Sendou doesn't know what Oliver has been up to these past few months. No one except for Otoya does.

"Hear that?" Oliver looks down at where you're still sobbing into his chest. "There's no one in there."

That doesn't make you feel any better. You don't want to go back inside your apartment, you don't want to stay and sleep there. You shake your head and whimper, fisting his shirt at the mere thought of going back inside. Oliver hushes you again and puts a hand on the back of your head.

Sendou says, "I don't think it's a good idea for her to stay here right now." Oliver knows that Sendou genuinely worried about you, but he has no idea just how long Aiku has waited for this.

"How about staying at my place tonight?" Oliver ask in a gentle voice. "How's that sound?"

You only nod in response.

*

It still feels like you're being watched, you can't shake the feeling. It has you holding Oliver's hand while you walk and clinging to him desperately for safety. You're outside his apartment and feel the need to look behind you to check the hallway while he unlocks the door. "It's okay, I won't let anything happen to you." He squeezes your hand and leads you in. He closes the door and immediately turns to you, pulling you in for a hug. "You're safe here. Nothing will happen to you."

You haven't said a word since leaving your building.

"Come on, doll, let's get you to bed." He pulls back and cups your flushed cheeks where fresh tears have started running, brushing his thumbs over your cheeks gently to wipe them.

Being able to finally call you his is just within arm's reach.

"Oliver . . ."

Fuck, you're killing him.

He leans his forehead against yours, still caressing your cheeks. "I'm right here." Oliver whispers. He pulls you into another hug and waits for you to lean further against him. You even put your arms around his neck which is more than he could have asked for in the moment. "C'mere," He doesn't waste any time, moving an arm down to pick you up and hold you close. "I got you."

You keep your arms around him and your face hidden in the crook of his neck as he carries you through his apartment, only looking up when you feel something soft beneath you.

It's his bed, but you don't want to be alone right now.

Just as Oliver goes to lean back from you, you tighten your arms around him, whimpering out a desperate, "Please don't leave me."

Shit, shit, shit. Oliver is sure he's going to die now.

"You sure?" He asks, voice low.

"Please . . ." You whisper.

Oh, this is fucking perfect. This is much better than Aiku expected.

Oliver lets you lie down on his bed, and he doesn't know how to handle the view of you down there, then gets down next to you. He lets you rest your head on his arm, putting the other around your smaller frame and pulling you into his chest where you instantly close your eyes and sigh in relief. "Try to get some sleep now. You're safe here." He whispers.

"Thank you, Oliver."

He's so close to finally getting what he wants in life. What he needs.

You're my beautiful girl, Oliver thinks and smiles down at you. You look so pretty like this, eyes closed and features soft and relaxed. Aiku has finally managed to turn himself into your safe space.

"Oliver . . ."

He moves his hand up to brush away the hair that covers your beautiful face. "Yeah?"

You open your eyes to look at his, dual coloured and mesmerizing. "I'm . . . I'm so scared these days."

For a moment, Oliver feels conflicted. He just wanted this, to be the one you will always seek out and rely on, but he also wonders if he's taken things too far. Seeing your pretty eyes all teary like this is breaking his heart, but he's more than happy to help you heal from this and build you back up again.

Oliver has all the time in the world now. You trust him, he knows that, and he'll never let you leave his side. "I'm sorry this is happening," He caresses your cheek, touch soft. "I'll help in any way I can."

Please, please just let him do this.

Aiku needs only you in life, why does he have to do so much to get what he wants?

Please don't push him away.

Oliver leans closer to you, eyes still locked with yours. It's a wordless plea. He's asking you if it's okay.

Please don't say no.

If you push him away now he won't know how to handle it. He doesn't want to keep scaring you.

"Oliver . . ."

He's so close.

When you don't push him away, Oliver closes the space between you and finally presses his lips to yours.

Maybe he should've waited a bit longer and given you some more time to calm down, but he can't take it anymore.

He needs you.

Oliver doesn't push for more. He breaks the kiss after only a few seconds, but it's enough for now. "That okay?" He whispers, heart pounding against his chest.

You gulp, feeling dazed. "'s okay."

Perfect.

*

You wake up the next morning with Oliver's arms wrapped around you. This is the third time it has happened, and by now you've grown to enjoy the feeling.

He's still asleep.

You can't help it, but you end up laying there and just watching him.

Oliver is a handsome guy, yes, but you've never looked at him like that before. You don't know when that changed during the chaos of the past few weeks, but it's not the worst thing ever.

You reach out absentmindedly and brush his bangs from his eyes. His hair is softer than you imagined, you want to run your fingers through it forever.

He stirs a bit and takes a deep breath as he wakes up, eyes fluttering open and softening as soon as they meet yours.

"Morning." You say softly, hand on his cheek.

He smiles tiredly and closes his eyes again. "Morning, doll." Oliver puts his hand over yours and traces small circles on the back of your hand. "Sleep well?"

"Yeah." Much better than you have in months.

Oliver loves that he's the reason why you feel safe enough to have a good night's sleep now. "Stay here for a few days," He opens his eyes. "I don't want you to feel like that again."

"You sure?"

"Mhm." How could he ever want anything else? "How would you feel about it?"

"I don't want to be a burden."

"You could never be." Oliver is confused by that. How could you ever think that you would be a burden to him? He leans closer to you, pressing a gentle kiss on your forehead that makes you feel all warm and fuzzy. "Stay here until you feel better."

Staying with Oliver? You wouldn't exactly hate that.

Oliver has never felt happier.

You've been staying with him for a few days now, showing no signs of wanting to leave. He knows it's because he makes you feel safe, something no one else manages to do.

He does his best to make you feel comfortable in his apartment, never pushing things too far and being careful not to say the wrong thing. The last thing Aiku wants is to scare you away.

You can't leave him.

You cannot.

Oliver wouldn't know what to do without you now that he's gotten a taste of life with you by his side. He would never forgive himself if he ruined this.

"You okay?" Your soft voice pulls him from his thoughts. "You look stressed out."

That's right. He stresses himself out every time he thinks about losing you, but he will not lose you so he should stop tormenting himself. "Just a bit tired." Oliver says. He's sitting on the couch and you're standing right next to him.

Oliver wants to hold you.

He takes your hand and pulls gently, bringing you down to hin. Aiku puts his hands on your waist, like he's been doing every now and then these past few days, and leans forward to nuzzle into your shoulder.

He always feels overjoyed when you let him do this. The first time he did he was scared you would push him away.

Oliver swears he's in heaven when he feels your fingers comb through his hair.

"Thank you for letting me stay." You thank him once again.

Oliver hums softly against your shoulder then turns towards you to place a kiss on the side of your neck.

He wants you so fucking badly.

"No need to thank me." He wraps his arms around your waist. "I'm just happy you're feeling better."

Oliver doesn't need to send you any more texts as long as you're with him. Everything is perfect this way and will stay as such so long as you don't leave.

He needs to make sure you'll stay.

Oliver waits until you decide to go to sleep. You did feel bad after your first night at his place, but all he needed to do was wait for you to start overthinking again and then he could hold you in his arms all night long.

Maybe he can finally try to take it a step further.

He'll never get tired of seeing you in his bed.

Oliver loves holding you like this more than anything. Your body fits in his arms perfectly because you were made for him and him alone. My beautiful girl. Oliver caresses your cheek.

He can't get enough of you.

When he first started doing this a few days you would blush and avoid his gaze. Now, it makes you smile up at him with those gorgeous eyes of yours.

"It feels like all I'm doing these days is just thank you over and over." You say. "I don't know what I would've done if you hadn't been there."

Oh, if only you knew just why he was always there every time you needed someone.

Oliver feels bolder than he did days ago now. He leans down and slots his lips against yours, and it's the best thing he has ever felt.

He's careful to not push for too much and make you uncomfortable, but fuck, it's hard to restrain himself.

Oliver hopes you won't say no next.

He pushes gently on your shoulder to get you to move onto your back, and when you comply he moves on top of you. You don't seem uncomfortable or even shocked, thank fuck for that, and it spurs Aiku on.

He breaks the kiss and pulls back to look down at your flushed face. You look so pretty like this, Oliver has never felt like this before.

No one can compare to you. He regrets wasting his time on other girls when he could've focused all his attention on you instead.

"'s this okay?" He whispers.

You feel hot. Oliver makes you feel things you've never experienced. "Uh huh . . ."

He's so close to getting what he's waited for since the day he met you.

Oliver kisses you again and you welcome it eagerly, pulling him closer by putting your arms around his neck.

You're so perfect.

You're perfect.

Oliver needs you more than he needs air. He can't live without you, he loves you so much

Oliver loves you. He loves you. He loves you.

*

Oliver wakes up to the sound of his phone vibrating softly on the nightstand. He sighs, annoyed, reaching out to pick it up.

Otoya.

Oliver gets out of bed carefully, making sure you won't wake up as he leaves and goes to open the front door where Otoya is waiting outside and smirks in amusement when he sees Oliver. "Mission accomplished?"

"Almost." Oliver yawns. "What's up?"

Otoya holds up the phone Oliver bought to text you with most of the time a few months back. "I keep forgetting to give this back at campus but I was close by and remembered it a few minutes ago."

Oliver takes the phone. "Thanks, bro."

"Well you seem happy." Otoya notes. "Score yet?"

"No, she's more than that." Oliver would never see you as just another girl to sleep with. You're his precious love and he'll never let you go. He doesn't need anyone else, only you.

Aiku doesn't know that his special girl woke up from him getting out of bed.

You're confused by what the boys are talking about, standing by the bedroom door and listening.

"Well, be careful with that thing." Otoya nods down at the phone. "I don't want to see the hell everyone will raise if they find out her creepy stalker is actually her precious Oliveeer." Otoya puts on a sweet, girly voice and makes a cute face.

Otoya's words hit you like a punch in the gut.

Oliver slaps the side of Otoya's head playfully and says, "Shut up, that won't happen."

"Here's to hoping." Otoya fistbumps him. "Later." He turns around and waves as he walks away.

Your mind goes blank.

Oliver?

What?

Otoya's words echo in your mind, "I don't want to see the hell everyone will raise if they find out her creepy stalker is actually her precious Oliveeer."

Your legs go weak.

". . . her creepy stalker is actually her precious Oliveeer."

You slide down to the floor.

The front door closes.

You gasp, eyes going wide.

Footsteps . . .

Oliver is coming back to the bedroom. His bedroom. The room you've been sleeping in for days. The bed you've laid with him in. The bed he's held you in every night.

". . . her creepy stalker is actually her precious Oliveeer."

It has to be a joke right?

Right?!

"Oh?"

Oliver's voice makes your blood freeze.

"Hey, what are you doing on the floor?"

You look up at him, eyes wide. Otoya's words fill your mind again, ". . . her creepy stalker is actually her precious Oliveeer."

"What are . . . you . . ." Oliver realizes.

You heard.

You stare up at him in terror.

It's him.

What kind of a cruel, sadistic joke is this?

It all suddenly makes sense, how could you be so stupid? Every time something happened either Oliver or Otoya would be there. Otoya was in on it, too.

The texts, the pictures, the knocking . . . all those times you felt like you were being watched . . .

Just as Oliver moves, about to walk up to you, you shake your head. "Please don't hurt me."

"No, no, no, I would never hurt you." Oliver kneels down in front of you but you back into the wall. "I'd never hurt you, doll."

The room suddenly feels too small.

You can't stay in there, the room where you've been sleeping in Oliver's arms on his bed when he's been playing you like a damn fiddle all along.

You push yourself off the floor and try to leave the room but he stops you by grabbing your arms. "No! Let go!"

Oliver can't let you leave. You'll never come back if you run away now. "Please just listen to me for a minute," He pleads. "let me explain-"

"No!" You cry. "No, no!"

Oliver lets go of your arms to hold your face in his large hands instead. "Please, doll, listen to me." He forces you back against the wall and cages you in, wide frame preventing you from running away. You can't leave, you can't.

If he could torment you over the course of months so easily, what else is he capable of? The thought terrifies you and you can't stop the tears from running. "I trusted you . . ."

Oliver's heart breaks at the sight of your tears. Maybe he did take some things too far, but it's okay. All he needs to do is show how much he loves you. "You can still trust me, baby girl, I'd never hurt you, you know that."

"Oliver, please . . ." You whimper. "I'm scared . . ."

Scared of what? Of him? "You don't need to be scared, doll." Oliver says softly. He wipes the tears from your cheeks. "Please don't cry."

"O- Oliver . . ."

He's the one who turned you into a shell of your former self who spends every moment terrified for your safety.

Why would he do this?

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Oliver whispers over and over again. "I'm sorry for scaring you, doll, I'll never do anything to hurt you again." He promised. "You're the most important person in my life, I can't live without you."

How can you trust him after learning all this?

"Please don't hate me." Oliver begs desperately. He is beyond terrified now. He can't let you leave, it would kill him. "Please don't hate me, I love you so much. I love you, I love you, I love you."

If he loves you so much . . . why would he put you through all this? "Y- You . . ."

"I love you." Oliver breathes. He prays you won't push him away, then leans down to kiss you desperately. "I love you," He whispers against your lips. "I love you and only you, I love you so much."

If you were in your right mind right now you would condemn him for him actions and demand answers, but you're not. You look up at Oliver, in a daze from the kiss. "Y'love . . ."

"I love you." Oliver kisses you again. "You know that I do, don't you? You know how much I love you, doll, yeah?"

You see nothing but panic and desperation in his mismatched eyes, the same ones that have only looked at you with pure adoration for weeks now. "Y- You love m- me . . ." You murmur.

"Yeah, that's right. That's right, I love you. You're the only one I've ever loved." Oliver captures your lips in a heated kiss.

There is still a tiny voice inside you that is telling you to get a grip, yelling at you to push him away. Aiku is the one who put you through so much shit that you nearly lost your sanity, the one who scared you so much you broke down.

Oliver kisses you like his life depends on it. He needs too show you just how much he loves you, he needs you to know.

"Oli- Oliver-"

He's scared that you will tell him to let you go and he can't take it. Oliver will never let you leave, not when you're finally his.

You're still crying and he hates himself for being the cause of your tears. Oliver brushes the fresh tears from your cheeks and whispers against your lips, "You'll let me love you, won't you, doll? You'll let me show you how much you mean to me, right?" He moves his hands down your body.

He loves you . . . Oliver loves you, you can see it in his eyes.

"You'll let me, won't you, baby?"

A small nod is all you manage to give as a reply.

You gasp when you feel his warm hands on your skin. He pushes your tank top up to finally feel your soft skin. Oliver has waited for this for so long, he'll be damned if it ends before it even begins. "Let me show you."

"Oliver . . ."

He steps back from the wall and pulls you with him, guiding you to the bed and pushing you down. You're overwhelmed and want to tell Oliver to wait, but he doesn't let you say anything and kisses you again.

You push on his shoulders lightly. "W- Wait . . ."

"What's wrong, doll?" Oliver coos down at you, cupping your cheek. "Just let me take care of you, I'll make you feel better."

He leans back enough to sit on his knees for a second, pulling his t shirt off and throwing it away. The sight makes you feel hot and he can see the effect it has on you. It swells Oliver's ego to know you like what you see, even if you don't say it outloud.

There's a part of you that wants to push him away but . . .

Oliver can see the doubt in your eyes.

He leans back down and brushes his lips against yours. "You want me to make you feel good, don't you?" Aiku pushes your top up. It tingles where his skin meets yours and you exhale shakily. "I'll make it all better, doll. That's what you want, ain't it?"

You gulp, and you nod.

"Yeah?" Oliver smiles and presses a quick peck to your now swollen lips. "Want me to make it better?"

"Uh huh . . ."

He has you now.

Oliver has you and he will never let you go.

*

Everything feels so hot . . .

You can't breathe.

You can't think.

All you feel is Oliver Aiku.

Your discovery is long forgotten. He's doing everything he can to make sure that you will never care about it again, and it's working. Every time he feels you tensing up or sees the doubt in your pretty eyes he does something new to get your mind off it.

You're on your side with his toned chest pressed against your back as he litters your nape and shoulder with kiss, one arm under you and holding you tight while his free hand roams every inch of your burning skin.

Oliver moves his hand down between your thighs that are pressed together. "O- Oli . . ."

He can't get enough of you. He's never felt so good in his life. "All f'me," Oliver whispers by your ear. "I want you so fuck'n bad, doll."

Oliver is skilled and experienced, you know that, and you should have enough common sense to not let that bother you but it does. It means he's been with plenty of other girls before you and you hate that.

He shifts his arm under you to move his hand up to hold your face, forcing you to turn your head and look back at him. "C'mere, doll." He kisses you hungrily. Oliver actually moans when he feels how wet you are.

All for him.

"Feels so good to hold you like this." Aiku pants. "You're so good for me. My good girl."

Oliver's gaze moves down to the marks on your shoulder. There aren't enough of them. You're not covered enough. He needs to leave enough marks for the whole world to know that you belong to him.

He grabs a handful of your plush thigh. "Spread 'em."

"Oliver . . ."

"You said you'd let me, remember?" He says softly. "Remember, baby? You said you'd let me love you."

That's right . . . you did.

"Here, we'll take it slow." He's okay with waiting a few more minutes if it means he can make you more needy in the process and eventually have you beg for it. "See? Just like this."

Oliver urges you to press your thighs together again. He's sure that being buried deep inside you would feel a lot better, but he doesn't mind fucking your pretty thighs for a while. They’re so soft and feel so good around his cock, everything about you feels like paradise.

You keep rubbing your thighs together to relieve some of the tension in your body. He's only making it worse by rubbing against you like this, you're desperate for release. "Oliver . . . please . . ."

Every time he moves forward he nudges your sensitive clit and it has your thighs shaking.

You spread your legs and Oliver is quick to take advantage of it. "This is okay, right?" He pants, struggling to restrain himself.

Even now, there's still that tiny voice inside that begs you to stop.

Oliver kisses your shoulder. "I can do it, right?"

You . . .

He needs to make you his.

You're scared.

Oliver feels it in the way you tense you slightly, but he's so close, it's practically almost done. "Hey, doll, how do you feel?" He kisses your shoulder again and stops for a moment. "It's okay, right?"

It's Oliver . . . Oliver loves you, you know that now . . .

You don't say anything. Instead, you reach your hand back to the back of his head and turn to kiss him again.

Oliver will take this as a yes.

You tense up and gasp when he pushes in. He's a lot bigger than you expected.

Oliver swears he's dying, he can't handle it now that it's finally happening. You're so warm and so tight, it feels so good.

"Y'feel so fuck'n good, doll." Oliver whispers against your lips. "So good for me, my good girl."

You can't think of anything other than the feeling of Oliver's cock deep inside you, filling you perfectly.

He moves at a slow pace, whispering sweet nothings and praising you for being so good for him. You're his perfect girl, so sweet and so beautiful and all his.

Oliver knows he has you now.

"How's it feel, doll? Feel good?"

You feel hot. "Oli . . ."

"Deep breaths for me, baby, easy now." He murmurs softly, hitting that perfect spot inside you.

"F- Feels good . . ."

Yes.

Oliver has never been happier. He finally has you and it was worth the wait.

You cry out his name and it makes Oliver's heart flutter and he practically melts against you. You're the only girl who can do this to him. Everything about you is addicting, he could never get enough of you. Now that Oliver finally gets to bury himself inside you he never wants to pull out. He wishes that he can stay like this forever.

Aiku moans against your nape at the feeling of your tight cunt squeezing him, as if you never him to leave.

Shit, it feels so good, he won't last.

He whispers you name breathlessly and moves at an even slower pace in favour of giving harder thrusts.

Your sweet voice bounces off the walls and in the room, the sweetest sound Aiku has ever heard.

"G'na cum f'me, yeah?" Oliver pants, so close. "Come on, doll, cum for me. Give me everything."

You belong to him, just as he belongs to you.

You're his and he is yours.

Oliver loves you so fucking much, he can hardly handle it. He needs you to live.

"I love you."

[darylbae]

Pls could you write daryl dixon x fem!reader at the kingdom? carol and ezekiel took in a worn out and struggling woman and have been helping her get back on her feet. daryl comes along and teaches her to hunt and maybe r lost some memory but got a bit back when she shot her first animal w daryl maybe she’s actually a vvv good hunter

crack shot — daryl dixon 🩰

in which you find the kingdom, and an archer who's willing to train you.

note: love this, going to make a lil drabble of this.

You'd been alone for a long time. You'd survived with your stealth and trusty knives, but it was getting harder. Your backpack of supplies were low, you hadn't found a proper place to settle down, and you'd recently injured yourself trying to hide from a horde of walkers. Until you'd been found passed out from blood loss sat on a branch in a tree. A man, who spoke as if he'd been pulled from a fantasy book, and a woman, who seemed the exact opposite of him. And yet they worked together well enough to get you back to wherever it is they call home. The Kingdom.

That was almost a month ago. You'd spent a long while recovering, getting to know the Kingdom and it's people, and helping out with your very minimal mobility. Turns out your injury had been worse than you or anyone had thought. When Carol, the woman who found you, had sat at your bedside to question you, you appeared to have lost any knowledge of what's happened. Memories muddle into one, not being clear enough to decipher. You'd forgotten a lot of your life before this, but you assumed that was because the world had changed so drastically. You remembered some long-term things, like family members you had, what was happening in the world at this point in time, and where you were born, but everything else had fallen short. It was time to start building you back up. Carol would visit you a lot, bringing you things to eat, taking you around on walks to show you how things are going, and today she had other ideas in mind. "So," Carol sighed, sitting next to your bed once again, "I think you've recovered enough to start doing something. I've asked a friend to train you in dealing with walkers. Just to make sure you can defend yourself still." You nodded, finishing lacing up your boots and getting out of bed. "Who? Jerry? Because I love Jerry." Carol laughed. "No, an old friend of mine offered to help actually. He's waiting outside."

Carol had taken you outside, and stood in front of the both of you, was God himself. Everything you'd liked in a man, he was here. But you pushed those thoughts to the back of your brain, focusing on learning. "This is Daryl," Carol introduced him, and he held the strap of his crossbow on his shoulder, giving you a quick look up and down, and a nod. "He's going to take you hunting today."

The two of you had left the Kingdom, quietly walking towards the woods. "Carol said you forgot everythin'," he mumbled, his voice gruff but it pushed a few buttons for you, "that sucks." "Yeah. It's a strange feeling. I don't really remember much except the family I had, and how the world turned out like this." You explained. "So you're a hunter?" He nodded. "I'm good at it. Been doin' it all my life." "Well I hope I catch a good deer or something for Carol and Ezekiel."

It had been a long, slow day. You'd spent a long time just walking through the woods silently, trying not to scare any wildlife away. With the occasional "come 'ere" from Daryl. But you'd finally found a deer; stood gracefully between two trees, sniffing at the ground. Daryl raised his crossbow, explaining how to use it. "Wait," you exclaimed in a whisper, "can I do it?" Daryl handed you his crossbow, and before he'd opened his mouth about how to hold it, you'd fired the arrow and it landed perfectly into the deer, killing it in the most humane way. He was in shock, analyzing your features for any signs of shock. "You done this before?" He asked, slinging his crossbow over his shoulder again before following you towards the deer. "Maybe? I don't know. It just felt natural to me." You answered, and he was still reeling from how impressed he was. "Have to take you huntin' with me all the time now, crack shot."

[schlong2]

latest fix rant time

none of my friends want to talk to me about monkey movies and then i remembered i have a whole blog dedicated to my latest fixations so. i've watched Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes two (TWICE ✌️) times in theaters. this was after watching the newer trilogy (Rise, Dawn & War) and the first 1968 original in prep.

things (SPOILERS!!!):

Kingdom's run time is 2 hours and 25 minutes. this is incredibly long for a movie. compared to 1968's 1 hour and 52 minutes, that's a half hour difference. Infinity War was 2 hours and 36 minutes for reference. that's a whole marvel cinematic convergence, but ape. the run time isn't exactly the issue i've seen talked about. it's the pacing. sitting twice through this movie was not a problem for me. i sat there engaged all the way through. on the second watch, i tried to be mindful of times in which it might have been dragging for the average person, and i like, literally couldn't find any. pretty much every scene had meaning and didn't drag imo. which is something these newer movies do extremely well. Kingdom is pretty equally split between verbal communication and sign language compared to the first three before it. the apes use both verbal and visual cues to talk. but because they don't talk every single time, it makes every moment that they do feel special. it reminds me of the Quiet Place concept, where most of the movie you only hear a human voice a few select times when it's safe to do so. Rise, Dawn, & War were kind of like this, as Caesar only really spoke when he was trying to make a point or communicating to humans, who are mostly speaking in those movies. he speaks more as he gets more fluent, and by War, he can speak very well. we see other apes like Koba, Maurice, Blue Eyes, and Bad Ape also speak English. these moments are rationed pretty well throughout Kingdom, making the dialog more select and meaningful. this makes every time these beasts talk feel like it means something and isn't just fluff to fill your ears. every other scene feels like it's building or showing a side of a character we hadn't seen before, and the scenes between those advance the plot or are like, really action-packed. i just don't see why some people say it has pacing problems. it's just long. i understand the average person's attention span is super short, but when you're sitting down to watch two and a half hours of movie, you gotta know there's gonna be downtime. moments where they're not fighting or advancing the plot. and i think that's GOOD man. but im also not one for action/adventures very much so maybe that's it? i think a lot of people maybe watch these apes for the violence and conflict rather than their introspection, genuinely thoughtful world building, and complex characters. and hey, that's completely fine to enjoy, but POTA is originally about morals and asking the audience questions and posing dilemmas to popular beliefs at the time. ok

Raka. he's great. Peter Macon has this butter smooth voice that's just perfect for the kind of character he plays. you can't help but like him. but he dies like 1/3 into the movie and is really only there to religion dump about Caesar (ape jesus) and then he's swept away. people are complaining that that's all he was really there for. to explain the real values of Caesar and provide a foil to Proximus. and i agree to some degree. i really hope he's not actually dead. his presence and death are felt throughout the movie, as both Mae and Noa (mostly Noa vocalizes it, Mae just silently shares in his loss and i think cries at one point?) seem to mourn him, saying shit like "if Raka were here..." and especially at the end when Noa gives the Caesar pendant to her. it's the shared memory of Raka and what he devoted his life to. but they never really like, actually linger on his death. there's a moment after he's swept away, and the shot stays on the rushing waters, Raka no longer visible and plays some sad tunes, but like. C'MON. he's not really dead. he isn't please tell me he isn't PLEASE

Noa isn't Caesar. i honestly do not get why you would want otherwise. of course, he isn't Caesar. we don't need another Caesar. he had a whole three movies to be the center of. i would be extremely disappointed if they just made a carbon copy of him or made Noa like a direct descendant of him or whatever. i hate that Chosen One bullshit. Caesar was just a guy that wanted peace for his people and that got him killed in the end. Noa is also a guy who wants peace for his clan. they're both leaders and have good hearts, but like. they're different characters. i LIKE that Noa has no relation to Caesar, i LIKE that he's his own character with his own ideals and purpose. Owen Teague does a wonderful job making the character his own. i mean Andy Serkis is Andy fucking Serkis. pretty big shoes to fill and i think Teague has the right foot size you know. i heard one guy say like "we've had our time to mourn Caesar" and yeah. we have. let's accept that and move on

WHERE MY APE DIVERSITY AT. we get a fuck ton of chimps, ONE orangutan, ONE gorilla, and ONE bonobo. what the hell. i mean. what is with the bonobo villian. Koba i fucks with because bonobos are some of the most playful, nonviolent apes out there. that humanity and its cruelty could twist a naturally peaceful creature into what Koba became.. i mean, that's great. but again with Proximus? maybe trying to evoke some of the same energy and nuance Koba had? ALSO. GORILLA PSA they are like so sweet. all that muscle is there to protect their families, and they're strictly vegetarians. i feel like Rise, Dawn, & War portrayed this better with most of the gorillas getting bodyguard jobs because of all their bulk. especially when Luca tucks that flower in Nova's ear. man. and Red going out like he did. gentle giants. in Kindgom we just have Sylva. gorilla henchman for Proximus. that's it. then we have Raka, the one orangutan character that i saw. wise and knowledgeable, guides and accompanies Noa and Mae then dies. at least we get one female chimp character that's more than just wife or mother. wikipedia lists Soona as Noa's love interest, which i can totally dig, like it's there. he takes her to the telescope at the end of Kingdom, which is more than what we saw romance-wise between Caesar and Cornelia. and the only other important chimp female is Dar, Noa's mom. in Rise, Dawn & War there was usually only one of each species of ape assigned a main role, but we saw much more diversity it felt like. maybe that's because there were smaller in numbers and have since spread out in the last 300 years? also like, bonobos are known for having female-female & male-male sex. dont know about the other apes. my friend mentioned that Raka said something about having a male companion and promptly searched reddit. all they had to say was: gaype?

the visuals. dear god the visuals. this movie is just visually stunning. absolutely breathtaking. they did a great job. i mean Rise, Dawn, & War are all triumphs of cgi and are excellent examples of the animation style done right. i did hear some guy say there is a loss of texture, as mostly everything in Kingdom is cgi, from the characters to the landscapes. but there's an explosion of texture in this film. there's one point where Noa is covered in the ash of his village and you can see it on his fur. there's quite a couple water scenes where the moisture clings to the apes' fur. It's all very impressive. great work

the references!! Rise especially has a ton of them (IT'S A MADHOUSE!!! & GET YOUR STINKIN PAWS OFF ME YOU DAMN DIRTY APE), and names like Nova and Cornelius, but Kingdom... i picked up on at least three main instances, but im sure there are more. there's the scene where the apes are rounding up the feral humans, and its very reminiscent of the scene from 1968 where they're doing the same thing for sport. there's the scene where Mae is running in the field, and she jumps on that log structure to get to Noa, which is nearly identical to a similar scene in 1968. the scene when Noa, Soona, and Anaya are exploring the human bunker and they come across an old classroom. one of them picks up a doll that says a distorted "Mama" which was huge in the original because that was evidence that once man did speak, why else would he make a doll that talked? superb call backs to the og. respect what was there before

SCHLONG THEORY

here me out guys. the starring ape-human relationship in Rise was between Caesar and Will. this type of love is called storge and describes the love a child has for a parent as well as the love a parent has for their child.

the starring ape-human relationship in Dawn was ultimately between Caesar and Malcolm. which i believe is truly philia towards the end, the love between friends and allies. just two dudes trying to keep peace in the world.

in War, i mean Caesar well and truly hates the Colonel. like more than he's hated any human in his life before. close to mania, obsession. anyways it's a study on this type of relationship between an ape and a human. true, all consuming hate.

SO in the newer movies we've explored familial love, platonic love, and hate, between an ape and a human.

in Kingdom the main ape-human relationship is between Noa and Mae. and their relationship is complex. not really that friendly and certainly not familial. no trust. some kind of begrudging respect maybe? i just think it would be neat if in further installments they explored a romantic love between a human and an ape. ok.

i KNOW Noa and Soona are probably going to get ape married and they're never going to touch on the subject but i just find it hard to believe that in the last 300 years or so that's NEVER been heard of. apes have the same level of intimacy between each other as humans do in this universe and can willingly consent. what are you so afraid of wes ball

after all, the whole franchise is about how apes, when given intelligence, compare to humans and begs the question: how different are we really?

is it possible for an ape and a human to fall in love?

[silence-burns]

The Death of Me //part 3

Fandom: Aquaman

Summary: (very small spoilers for the movie) Finding Orm on your doorstep was not something you expected. Having him move in was even worse. But the effect he still had on every part of your life would be the death of you.

“Try not to drown. It would be awkward.”

Orm watched you disappear into the bathroom, angry or embarrassed to the point of momentarily forgetting about your exhaustion. It was such a relief after spending hours watching your feverish, unresponsive body. He couldn’t help but smile.

He wasn't used to sitting idle, which led him to start cleaning up the house during those few hours and familiarizing himself with the rooms. Orm was now a free man, left to live his life however he wanted. And yet, when Arthur came to him with a certain proposition, he didn't even think before agreeing.

What he's said before was true—Orm did feel indebted to you for everything you'd done over the years. But it wasn't the main reason he dropped everything and allowed Arthur to bring him to the sea house.

Orm used the opportunity of having you out of bed (if it could even be called that) to clean it up and take off the bed sheets. A surprising amount of human medicine rolled out from various crevices of crumpled blankets, which he put on the table to carefully read about later. Human ingenuity managed to surprise him every now and then, and instructions printed on every surface possible were something he appreciated.

He heard the water run in the shower, which was a good sign. So far, no screams, shouts or sounds of a body hitting the floor broke the peaceful evening. Orm wouldn't mind it staying that way.

It took him a few moments to figure out the way human bed sheets were supposed to be used. Everything felt new to him, but he took pride in every step. There was a certain novelty to doing things wrong and not having a whole nation watching.

The lock opened with a mechanical click. You stood in the doorway, looking pale and wet, resembling a wet rat Orm had once seen in a canal. The loose shirt you put on had a lot of soaked spots.

“I can't take it off.”

Orm moved his eyes away from the shirt clinging to your body. “Pardon?”

Your lips formed a thin, anxious line. “The old bandage. Even after I soaked it, I can't take parts of it off.”

Orm knew he'd sooner grow old and turn to dust than hear from you words such as ‘Please, could you help me? I can't do this on my own.’ In any other person, such a trait would endlessly annoy him.

“Let me have a try.” It was a perfectly diplomatic answer that made you walk back into the bathroom.

You leaned over the sink with your back to him and pulled the shirt up. From up close, Orm realized that some of the wet patches on the shirt came from blood. Removing even part of the bandages resulted in aggravating the wounds again, and pulling on the ones that were stuck hard only made it worse.

For a moment, Orm beheld the scale of the task. “What happened to you again?”

“A building.”

It looked as if you were dragged through a few of them. Repeatedly.

“...must've been a big one.”

“Your brother has a talent of making the worst possible choices.”

“Hard to argue with that.”

His heart hurt when he started pulling on the scabbed wounds that had dried with pieces of bandage and dressing inside the wound. He was no medic, but he'd been in enough duels and fights not to overlook unhealed injuries. With lips pressed thin, he tried to be as gentle as possible, but his work was difficult.

He was impressed you didn't flinch or curse. Orm only heard quiet hisses from you and noticed your heavy breathing.

“I'm sorry it's taking so long,” he broke the silence after a while, thinking it would distract you enough. “I wish we had some of the Atlantean medicine that could speed this up.”

“I actually might still have some in the cabinet to your left from that time we fought those necros. Your healers gave me a lot, but I don't remember which is which.”

Orm froze. “And you're only telling me this now?”

“In my defense, I didn't even remember about it until you asked.”

Orm dropped the paper towels he used to wipe the blood off your back into the sink. He found a crumpled bag with a few small, familiar jars. Some of the medicine had already dried out, but the one he was searching for remained intact.

“It's a good thing you didn't throw them out. This one is a special salve; it breaks the bond between dried out wounds and cleans them.”

Orm layered it thickly, working fast and trying his best to focus only on your injuries. Your skin was hot under his fingers and smelled vaguely of soap.

“I tried to soak them under the shower, but it didn't really help.”

“There was not enough water.”

You frowned and raised your head a little to look at Orm in the mirror. He seemed to be engrossed in cleaning the scabs and fabric off. Even though the pain subsided significantly, something still bothered you.

“...I'm pretty sure there was a decent amount of water in the water that I used.”

“Not enough, apparently.”

“In what other terms may I present to you thousands of years of Atlantean technology development that went into producing this salve? Its effects are greatly enhanced.”

“Did you just say my water is too dry??”

“Ah, right. I forgot you're the water experts. Should I start calling you professor?”

Orm tightened the bandage as he caught your eyes in the mirror.

“You can call me whatever you want, as long as it keeps you alive.”

A shiver ran down your spine, and you were sure that despite the bruises and bandages, Orm could clearly see what his words did to you. You cleared your throat, breaking eye contact first.

“I'm sure you think you sound cool, but you might've overlooked the possibility of me abusing such power easily and with a smile on my face, Salve Master.”

Orm chuckled. His fingers lingered around your waist. “You'll be the death of me. But as I've said—whatever keeps you going.”

And then he suddenly turned you around and lifted you over his shoulder. Too stunned to fight back, you found yourself carried out of the bathroom.

[frnchgirls]

warnings: 18+, nsfw, long!!, dubcon, a lot of explicit and implied grossness, poly if you squint, finishing inside, early character death?

you met zombie!patrick during your compound's last looting trip. you and a few other younger, able-bodied members of your settlement went out to a pharmacy in search of medicine, and during the affair, the building was overrun by zombies. every member of the search team was presumably eaten, your best friend tashi and boyfriend art both killed in the frenzy. it devastated you. but you- you were alive; the sole survivor, having made it out with the medicine, no less, all thanks to patrick.

he spared you when he decided to smear your face and clothes with spoiled blood to mask your human scent from the horde, a strategic thought you never would have imagined the undead could even have. you're taken aback when after all is said and done, he seems to revert to a normal zombie state, communicating only with groans and grunts and an incoherent mumble every now and again. you can't lie and say that you're not at least a little afraid. he is a zombie, after all. but he's shown no signs of hostility, or signs of much of anything for that matter. and he did save your life, so why not keep him around?

the two of you are sitting in an abandoned house that's on the route from the pharmacy back to the compound, shoulder to shoulder on the bedroom floor as you crack open a can of fruit cocktail, your dinner for the night. you examine his face as you dig your fork into a syrup-soaked cherry. he's so pale, blue veins like spider webs crawling up from the base of his neck to his hollow cheeks. you can make out the faint remnants of freckles if you squint, and you can't help but wonder what he might have looked like when he was still alive. tan and healthy; handsome, even.

you have to hold your breath as you eat the bits of peach and pear from the aluminum can in your lap. patrick is filthy, and the stench of god knows what emanates off of him, filling the room. his milky, glazed over eyes stay locked on the opposite wall, bruised lips parting ever so slightly when he says, "hun- gry." you immediately swallow the food in your mouth, partly shocked and partly overjoyed at the fact that he was speaking to you; that you could understand him. now that you were thinking about it, it had been a while since he last ate. you couldn't blame him for voicing his needs.

"yeah, pat. i know. we'll find some brains for you as soon as we can. i promise." you reply, chipper tone covering up the fact that you truly have no idea how you'll be able to satiate him without hurting an innocent person. you take another bite of food, thinking of art and tashi, and his head snaps in your direction. "hun- gry." he repeats, practically throwing himself onto you, which in turn knocks the can right out of your hand, spilling the contents all over the carpeted floor. you let out a noise, a mix of a gasp and a groan erupting from the back of your throat all at once.

"that was my last ration, you stupid fuckin'- get off." you complain, using every ounce of your strength to try and shove him off of you, but it's no use. he would overpower you even if he didn't have a supernatural advantage. he paws at your tattered clothes, gripping the fabric with his fingers as he presses his cold lips to your neck. he inhales against the sensitive skin, other hand coming up to tug absentmindedly at a strand of your hair. what on earth is he doing?

"pre- tty." he hums, big nose nudging your pulse point, and your eyes widen as you thrash under his hold. you fail to hear him over the sound of your racing heart. "don't- don't kill me, please. you remember me, right? remember saving me?" you beg, but it's a shot in the dark. he hadn't seemed to understand the words you said before, so why would now be any different? you squeeze your eyes shut as he stands and lifts you to your feet in one fluid motion.

"need... pussy." patrick grumbles, brows furrowed in confusion. the words aren't really his. he knows that when images of you from the past flash in his mind, on your back with your hair splayed over a fluffy pillow. you giggle and blush at something he said- no, not him, someone else who was now a part of him. someone else whose memories were now his own. someone who wanted to fuck you. he wanted to fuck you.

"what?" you squeak, wondering if you heard him correctly. this had to have been some kind of sick dream fueled by your recent lack of sex, because there was no way a zombie wanted to get in your pants. it was unheard of, impossible even. the fuck was wrong with you, having deranged thoughts like this? you would be shunned by the compound if anyone found out what you were about to do. and what about art? you reach around to pinch yourself, but the movement is interrupted when patrick shoves you down onto the bed.

"feel you... now." he continues, jaw clenched as he tugs forcefully at the waistband of your jeans. the seams pop, which allows him to drag the ripped material down your legs, leaving you in nothing but your panties below the waist. "no, no, we can't- this isn't right-" you stammer, squeezing your thighs together and covering yourself with your hands. but patrick pushes them out of the way like it's nothing. his pupils seem to darken when his eyes land on the damp patch at the front of the pink fabric.

"why wet... then?" patrick teases with a fucking smirk, dimples and smile lines on full display. you shudder not only at the sight, but at the feeling of his cold fingers pressing against your clothed heat. there was something so chilling about his words and his mannerisms. they were all too intimate. he didn't feel like a zombie anymore, he felt like a man. "i'm not- it's not-" you lie through your teeth, panicking as you lean down once again to hide the space between your legs from his view.

he unbuttons the front of his jeans, shuffling them down his hairy thighs along with his boxers. you have to physically turn away when his cock springs free from its confines. fuck, it's as thicker than it is long with dark curly hair at the base. blue veins run along the shaft and his tip is as purple as his mouth. you can't do this. as horny and curious as you are, he'll split you apart. "oh- oh my god, patrick- no. no, no, no." you squeal, clamping a hand over your mouth as you clench around nothing.

patrick is unphased, gripping the backs of your thighs and hoisting your legs over his shoulders. "take... it." he groans, pushing past your panties and into your soaked folds. he throws his head back, exposing his pale neck as he bottoms out in you. you let out a guttural moan, the noise muffled by your palm. you could feel every throbbing inch of him, your wetness providing only the slightest amount of lubrication.

your back arches off the bed at the intrusion. it's so strange; the juxtaposition of his freezing hands on your skin and his sweltering cock deep in your cunt. "feel... good?" patrick asks, waiting a moment before pulling out then thrusting in again. you pout, partly because you don't know how to answer, and partly because you can't. it's hard to think about anything else other than the feeling of him dragging along your walls. you resort to an eager nod, cheeks flushing from embarrassment.

he smiles, nodding in acknowledgement before leaning over you to get a better angle. patrick folds you even harder into the mating press, your thighs trapped between both of your stomachs. his eyes cloud over again once he's adjusted, jaw slack as he thrusts in and out and in and out. "hun- gry..." he mewls, saliva pooling in his open mouth when his tip brushes against that spongy spot inside you.

patrick fights with himself, unsure where his appetite for your flesh ends and his newfound appetite for your pussy begins. having you milk his cock like this seems to appease him for now, the other voice in his head tells him so. but still, he can't help but feel a little guilty. he wonders how you'd taste, how it would feel to have your viscera sliding down his esophagus when he eats you. drool spills over his bottom lip like a waterfall, dribbling onto the sheets below you.

a few drops land on your cheek when he moves, and you recoil at the sticky feeling on your skin. you can't help but close your eyes, facing a conflict of your own. if you just think about art, it'll be okay, right? it's not wrong to get fucked by a zombie if you imagine it's your late boyfriend while you do it. god, you hope he would forgive you. if only you knew. "look... at me." patrick sputters, and when you do just that, his pupils are dark again. something about it makes you shiver. you've never seen a zombie who could do that before, and his words fill you with a strange sense of deja vu.

patrick wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, speeding up his thrusts as he presses his forehead against yours. the motion has you teetering on the edge, and your fingers reach out to clutch at his hoodie instinctively. he chuckles and questions, "you... close?" which you answer with another nod and a whimper of "yes." he seems to be in the same boat when he tells you, "me too... wanna be good for you. please- let me be useful and... breed this pussy."

you giggle.

your mouth flies open to let out a gasp, patrick's hand reaching down to rub circles against your clit. you know you've heard those words before; you've heard those words from art. there are myths that zombies can absorb thoughts and memories from brains they consume. what did he do? what the fuck did patrick do?

"oh god- you ate my boyfriend. you ate my fuckin' boyfriend! oh- oh fuck-" you sob, tears pricking your eyes as he draws out your orgasm and rides through his own, grunting monotonously while he shoots ropes of cum inside you, coating your walls with his slick. you squirm at the feeling, patrick's actions only further spurring on your tears. but then he lifts a hand to cup your face. "no, no- don't be stupid. it's me. it's your artie." he coos, wiping a stray tear with his thumb.

you blink away the bleariness in your eyes and look at patrick's face, an all too familiar cheshire grin plastered over it. "art?" you whisper, chest still heaving with emotion, and he nods, moving your hand to cup his cheek like you've always done.

how the hell are you gonna explain this to the compound?

[ladykailitha]

Sweet Home Indiana Part 3

Shit! I can't believe I forgot to post this this morning! I don't know where my head was, honestly.

I'm reaching a point where I'm running out of plot so I don't think this story is going to be longer than 10 chapters max. A lot of the second half of the movie takes place over months as the main character gets ready to marry the rich bachelor, only for her to find out that her husband signed the divorce papers and she forgot ON HER WEDDING DAY (as in she was informed on her wedding day that she forgot). Which really won't work for this story.

So yeah, I suspect to be finished with this story sooner rather than later.

Eddie does have to do a lot of grovelling but he unfortunately gets worse before he gets better. He's really REALLY dumb in this, okay?

Part 1 Part 2

****

Eddie watched Steve walk away and he gently put the brownie back into the box.

Fuck.

His stomach churned as he swallowed down the bite in his mouth. He had forgotten so much about the man he once swore to love until the end of his days. But he remembered that look of absolute betrayal before the mask dropped.

So Eddie did what he was good at when times got tough, he ran. He was supposed to have been trying to convince Steve to come with him, but he had fucked it up so badly there was no coming back from that.

The worst part is that there had been a few times in the last decade where Eddie could have healed what was between them, that he could have reached out and gotten back in touch. But Eddie had ran each time.

He wouldn’t say each time ended in a rushed marriage, but two of them definitely did.

Eddie would think about reaching out only to hear about how well Steve was doing from Dustin or Max and how happy he was and Eddie would run out a marry the first guy who would fuck him.

The other times he would think about contacting Steve and some small trouble (or not so small in the case of his band breaking up) would crop up and he be scrambling to keep his head above water.

Steve was thriving here in Hawkins and wasn’t that just a kick to the head. He had a little bakery that was doing well, Robin was here, and if all the times the kids called Eddie were any indication, Steve was still on speaking terms with all of them.

He needed a fucking drink. He didn’t care that it was only a little after noon, he needed to turn off his brain. He turned on his heel and stormed out of the bakery.

“I thought I recognized the van,” a warm voice said. “Were you gonna tell me you were in town?”

Eddie looked around before he spotted his Uncle Wayne, leaning up against the side of the building.

“Wayne!” he cried and threw his arms around his neck.

Wayne hugged him back. “It’s good to see you kid.”

“Of course I was going to tell you I was in town,” Eddie scoffed. “I was just trying to take care of something first.”

Wayne looked behind him at the bakery and raised an eyebrow. “You coming back to make an honest man out him or are you setting to break his heart?”

“Why are you on his side?” Eddie whined. “Yes, I said some pretty stupid shit, but he wasn’t blameless in all the fuckery that went down.”

Wayne’s expression softened. “I know.” He put his arm around Eddie’s shoulders. “Come on, I’ll buy you lunch and we can talk about why you’re in town.”

“Mmk,” Eddie said weakly, letting Wayne lead him down the street to the nearby diner.

****

Steve was hyperventilating. He couldn’t do this. He wasn’t strong enough. Eddie Munson was the biggest asshole in the world and he still looked like sex on legs.

That funny little lopping walk he did when he wanted to move fast but didn’t want to run.

The long hair in waves around his face. His lean body stuffed into the tightest pair of jeans Steve had ever seen and he used to wear tight jeans for fuck’s sake. The god damn eyeliner on his big doe eyes.

And peaking out of the leather jacket were even more tattoos. Which it made sense considering he was some hot shot tattoo artist up in Seattle. But still! It wasn’t fair that the man who broke his heart wasn’t fat and balding at thirty. Nooooo...he had to come back to blue his balls as well as break his heart.

“Do I need to break his balls?” Robin asked coming back from the freezer. She crossed her arms over her chest and glared. Not at Steve specifically, but glared at the situation in general.

Steve gave a kind of hiccuping laugh and his lungs filled with the air he desperately needed.

“No,” he said with a broken smile. “I handled it. I’m just going to send it to Hal to make sure he’s not trying to take me to the cleaners or some other bullshit.”

Robin nodded. Hal Peterson was their business attorney, but he’d know enough to make sure Steve wasn’t being shafted by the whole ordeal.

“So what’s got you around the twist?” she asked.

“He looks hotter now than he did before he left,” Steve whined. “He’s supposed to balding and fat and falling apart at the seams. But no...he’s leaner, still with those long ridiculous curls, and better put together than I was.” He waved a hand at himself. His hair was greasy from standing around a hot oven, his hands and apron were covered in flour, he had frosting on his nose.

Robin came over and gave him a hug. He wrapped his arms around her and he let out a little sob.

“I’m sorry, Steve,” she murmured. “Are you going to be okay?”

He let out a shuddering sigh. “Probably not until he blows out of town again.”

Robin kissed the top of his head. “Let’s go out to the Hideout tonight. The shop will be fine. We handled today, we can handle tomorrow, too.”

Steve let out a shuddering sigh and nodded into her stomach.

“Good,” she stepped back and cupped his cheeks. “I know this sucks but you are the strongest, most capable person I’ve ever met. A weaker man would crumble under all this, but that person is not you. You understand me?”

He let out another shuddering sigh. “Thanks, Robs. I needed that.”

“I know you did, dingus,” she said fondly. “So lets knock today out of the ballpark, yeah?”

“Yeah!”

****

“I was hoping,” Eddie was telling Wayne, “that I could roll into town, get him to sign the divorce papers, and spend the rest of the week with you. But no, he’s being a stubborn ass.”

Wayne snorted. “You always did aim too high.”

“I thought he’d want to be rid of me,” Eddie huffed. “I’ve done nothing but run around all over this god forsaken country just to put some distance between me and him. I’ve hurt him in every possible way. I thought he was just wanting closure you know, calling me into town like he did.”

Wayne furrowed his brow. “He called you into to town?”

Eddie nodded and placed his chin on his hands on the table. “I was a bit of an ass about it because I didn’t explain things to Chrissy, but yeah. He told me that if I wanted to divorce him so bad, I’d have to come back to Hawkins and do the job proper.”

The waitress came set Wayne’s food down and Eddie sat up so she could do the same for him.

Wayne waited until she was gone before he turned back to Eddie. “When you told me you were marrying Chrissy, I was more than a little surprised.”

Eddie rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms. “I know. I have my reasons, I just can’t tell you yet. But I promise it’s for a good reason.”

“He’s done really well for himself here,” Wayne said softly.

“And I haven’t?” Eddie spat out a tad too bitterly.

Wayne scowled. “Did I say you hadn’t, boy?” he snapped.

Eddie’s head reared back from the shock of his normally mild mannered uncle to snap at him. He shook his head, his lip beginning to quiver.

“I’m on your side,” Wayne said, to Eddie’s scoff. “I know I keep hyping up Steve, but I remember what you two were like when things were good, son. You were incandescent. But I look at you now and that sparkle has gone. I want to be happy for you, but first you’ve got to show me that you’re happy for yourself.”

“You don’t think I’m happy?” Eddie asked in confusion. “I have my own tattoo shop, I’m going to marry a great girl, and I’m still friends with most of the members of my band. What’s not to be happy about?”

Wayne shrugged. “You tell me.”

Eddie frowned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, old man.”

Wayne dug his thumbs into his belt and licked his top lip nice and slow. Eddie ignored him and just stabbed at his food.

“Kiddo,” Wayne said, shaking his head, “you’re still in love with that boy even with these ten years gone.” His chin jutted up to point to Eddie’s food.

Eddie froze with his fork half way to his mouth and then looked down at his plate. It took him a full minute to realize what Wayne was talking about.

“Oh.”

He had ordered the breakfast platter. It had hash browns, scrambled eggs, ham, bacon, and sausage with a side of chocolate chip pancakes. But Eddie didn’t like hash browns or sausage. He would give them to Steve who did.

He thought about the little box that was sat next to him on the bench and the brownie Steve had concocted for him so long ago.

Eddie swallowed thickly, his stomach turning sour as he stared at the hash browns and sausage he was never going to eat.

“Eat up,” Wayne said with a soft smile. “You don’t want it to go to waste.” He scooped up the hash browns and put them on his plate and then stabbed both sausage.

He dipped the first sausage into his over easy eggs, ignoring Eddie’s turmoil. At least for the moment.

Eddie brought the fork all the way to his mouth and chewed, not really tasting it.

He ate through most of the food that way, until it came to the pancakes. He moaned happily.

“Seattle just doesn’t make pancakes the way Benny does,” he said softly.

Wayne’s smile was no less tender this time, but infinitely more fond. “You could always come back to Hawkins. You can set up a tattoo shop anywhere, so why not here?”

Eddie shook his head. “I wouldn’t do that to Steve. Divorce his ass and then move back into town with Chrissy in tow, shoving it in his face that I moved on.”

“I can see that,” Wayne murmured. “I just miss my boy is all and would love to see you more often than I get.”

Eddie took his hand and gave it a squeeze. “I know you do. And I would like you to meet Chrissy before the wedding.”

“I’d like that too.”

****

Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

Tag List:

1- @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

2- @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie

3- @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666

4- @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

5- @justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690

6- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

7- @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt

8- @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @blackpanzy

9- @amazing-spiderkeys @oldpinghai @raisedbylibrarians @kultiras @swimmingbirdrunningrock

10- @steddie-as-they-go @captain--low @micheledawn1975 @thespaceantwhowrites @mac-attack19

[shadowfloofster]

I've seen people say you can't compare the QSMP to the DSMP because they're both completely different servers with different starts.

The thing is you can compare them. Not the stories told themselves because of course they're going to be different as they're 2 servers with different starts with 2 nearly completely different sets of people.

You can compare the treatment of the creators by the fandom, players (other cc on the server) and admins though.

Foolish for example. He made SO many amazing high quality builds to use and be shown to people. Ranboo and Tubbo had him build a giant mansion for them to live in! Yet it was entered maybe once after being finished. Foolish was able to use his builds for his own lore maybe once. Only a few people like Bad really acknowledged them by messing around in the area of them or adding something easy to get rid of to them as jokes.

Bad's treatment on the DSMP was frustrating to watch. He was the butt of the joke every time he was around. People would constantly swear on his streams because it was so funny for them! They constantly destroyed his and Skeppy's house and griefed the front of it. No one other than his friends really listened to him about things. And the egg arc was supposed to be something that was a massive danger to the server! But how does the server and fandom not directly involved treat it? Like a joke. Bad and his friends clearly worked really hard on this arc to include more than just the 'main characters' and their small circle, yet it was brushed off as if nothing by the players and fandom, treated like it was stupid.

Quackity's lore just kinda- happened. There isn't much I can say as I don't remember a lot of it tbh which isn't a great sign.

Philza and Wilbur probably got the better end of the stick for lore due to being connected to the main lorr, but it still wasn't great for them either.

A lot of CCs not on the QSMP have mentioned how the communication for the server was terrible too. At the start of lore on the DSMP, it made sense as they were purely doing improve so there wasn't really anyone to run things through. But the fact the issue was bad the entire time made the CCs on the server feel ignored and not want to play on it.

It was rare for people to interact with others outside their already established circles unless they're friends outside the server.

Now with the QSMP

Foolish has built multiple things on the server and has been acknowledged by everyone at this point. Bad might mess with them a lot still and encourage others to join him but you can tell the respect people still have for each one. Vagetta wants a version of the statue Foolish built him on other servers. People and fandom admire his builds and always make sure that if there's any damage to it, it's easily undone. Cellbit has made the castle Foolish built him his home the moment it was finished, he's been using it since. He paid him fully and made sure he was fully supplied and had company while building, staying on for hours to talk to him as he built.

Bad is respected by everyone on the server. He's taken seriously by everyone. Everyone trusts him with their kid's lives. Phil asks Bad to babysit Tallulah and Chayanne if he can't. The french trust Bad more than anyone outside their language group. Forever trusts Bad the most on the server other than Baghera. If someone needs something they'll go to him. All the eggs love him and so does the fandom. He's part of the joke instead of the butt of it. He can laugh along with the jokes made, even ones directed at him. When people swear on his streams and he languages them, they immediately apologize and switch to one of Bad's replacements (fudge being the main one) and no one makes fun of it either! They don't start swearing relentlessly at him to annoy him.

Even though Quackity doesn't show up often, when he does people are happy to interact with him and update him on what's happened if he wants it.

People can be off the server for weeks without being isolated because they're not keeping up with major lore, especially as people are happy to update anyone on anything they want to know. Hell people can be on a lot without being involved in lore but still be included as much as anyone else! As soon as there's a threat to the eggs or a new way to protect them, it spreads to everyone like wildfire and everyone's taken it on within a week.

The new arrivals are always welcomed by the islanders already there. They support them and treat with the same respect they do with everyone else. They merge with everyone else nearly immediately and become part of the community without hesitation.

The communication with the admins is clearly amazing too. Philza has pointed out how appreciated he feels compared to other servers. When an egg dies unfairly they're quick to get back to them within hours. If there's a general issues they're quick to get back to them and fix things. People are allowed to have their own stories alongside the main one. Events are planned and discussed so everyones aware before it happens. Anyone who wants to take part is welcome to if it's a big thing due to how open they usually are (rescuing Cellbit and Felps, travelling to Bobby's death site, etc). Thinfs are adapted and changed when needed and all CCs are in the loop.

Being able to watch the QSMP and not feel like any POV I watch is being mistreated or ignored is great. I couldn't watch anything but lore streams with the DSMP because Bad was my main POV and it made me so uncomfortable to watch him being made fun of constantly and be treated as a joke.

The QSMP feels like a community of people, instead of factions trying to go against each other. DSMP was my first and only smp experience and while it was great at first, it quickly soured. The QSMP treats it's CCs and fandom as if they genuinely matter, making sure everyone is welcomed and no one is isolated.

[moongothic]

You know I was wondering if Crocodile ever did have any kind of involvement with the Revolutionary Army in secret (lest the Government finds out and revokes his Shichibukai status), what kind of involvement would that even have been

And now, with both the Vegapunk/Ohara flashback and Kuma's flashback, it's being made very clear to us that the Revolutionary Army was broke as hell 22 years ago. Like the fact that this has been brought up twice now in a relatively short span of time is interesting to me, that's usually a sign it's not an unimportant plotpoint

But you know who would have had money to help fund the Army

A funny little warlord who would eventually go and build a fucking casino to run for funsies. A warlord who had to give the Government some of his Pirating Income to keep his warlord-status

Like Crocodile hated the Government anyways so why not help fund the Revolutionary Army in secret, out of spite if for no other reason

Vaguely related, but I keep on remembering this scene (post-Enies Lobby), which at first glance just seems like a basic Lore Dump

But then there's the

"Yet..."

(Or "however", she says "no ni" in Japanese and you could translate that in many ways, I would probably have gone with "however" but that wouldn't have fit into the speechbubble)

Mind you, the conversation just kind of ends there, next we see Garp realize he probably shouldn't have mentioned Dragon infront of such a massive audience, so wherever that "yet" was going to lead to we will never find out, because Oda conveniently changed the subject before we got to it

And you know. Like yes, Robin could be just expressing her shock over finding out that the leader of the Revolutionary Army had a child with someone

But also, Robin was a part of an organization that was trying to overthrow one of the founding countries of the World Government in an explicit attempt to go against said Government (compared to like, Blackbeard, who currently wants to make Fullalead into a "pirate country" that's a part OF the World Government)

Like you don't have to be a genius to look at Crocodile's ultimate goals and compare that to what Dragon is doing and find a few similarities here and there maybe

(Also like, Crocodile's equivalent in Romancing SaGa 2 is meant to be Wagnas, the queer-coded leader of the Seven Heroes (whom the OG Shichibukai are based on) who "hoped to help the world". You know, an interesting detail and all.)

Not to mention, during the time Robin spent with Baroque Works, if Crocodile was ever in contact with the Revolutionary Army at all, considdering she has the ability to easily spy on people and that she didn't trust Crocodile one bit, it wouldn't be unsurprising if she ever spied on Crocodile and/or just overheard a phone call or knew about Crocodile having secret spending habits or something

(Mind you, I'm not saying "she knew" Crocodile was involved with the Revolutionaries, more that she might've been Suspecting Things, that "yet" being about her connecting the dots while unsure if her conclusion was right or not)

Of course Crocodile's plans can't have been Dragon Approved by any means, especially considdering the Army had been looking for Robin for over 10 years (pre-timeskip)

Four years of which were with Crocodile. Like if he was FULLY allied with the Army and KNEW they were looking for Robin, surely he would've called Dragon and been like "hey I found the kid from Ohara, wanna come hang out" or something. But no, he had bigger plans and kept Robin a secret from the Revolutionaries and the Government alike

Also like, I have seen people question why the Revolutionaries weren't involved with Alabasta's rebellion at all, and "Oda hadn't come up with the Revolutionaries yet at the time of writing" (/"OP was meant to end at Alabasta at one point so there would've been no reason to introduce the subplot at that point") aside Between Baroque Works being a secret organization working undercover (thus the Army might not have been aware of the civil war being manufactured), the framing of the King making him look bad and very much the type of monarch that deserved to be overthrown in the Army's eyes, and Crocodile maybe lying through his teeth about what was happening in the country... Yeah, the Army's lack of involvement with Alabasta suddenly makes sense

EDIT Minor addition: Just realized that because Crocodile was technically working for the Government, if the Revs ever did send forces to participate in Alabasta's civil army and taking down the throne, the Government could've easily ordered Crocodile to step in to stop the rebellion and take down the Revolutionaries, right? Because he was supposed to be on the Government's side, right? And surely the Army wouldn't have wanted to fight against Crocodile if they were secretly allied (Croc's secret betrayal aside), and if Crocodile refused to fight the Revs the Government could've seen that as a reason to revoke his Shichibukai rights (which wouldn't be great if they wanted to keep Crocodile in a position where he could fund the Army?). So it could've also been a case of it being for the best for everyone's sake to let this one play out "naturally"

But my point is

I'm just deeply intriqued by these little details and wonder if I'm Actually Masterfully Connecting The Dots Like a True Genius or just seeing a pattern where there's none. Like this is far from confirming the theory, I'm just saying, the pieces do kinda fit together do they not

[gatorbites-imagines]

Jason Vorhees with Male Childhood best friend (preferably POC). They meet each other again after decades only for them to try and kill each other because they don't recognize each other. But make them have a happy ending because happy = : D

Jason Voorhees x male reader

Headcanons

I always try to keep my stories open so anyone can imagine the reader as whatever race or appearance they have, unless I state otherwise (like when I make the reader taller, etc), so I didn’t change much in this to make the reader POC, so I hope that’s okay ^^

I headcanon that Jason is nonverbal so there’s mentions of signing in this. I may have gone a little further than childhood best friends, but I hope that’s okay anyways :)

-          You and Jason met at Camp Crystal Lake when you were children. You had always been a little strange, liking to be alone and spend time reading and alike than going out and causing messes like other kids.

-          This caused you to be quite isolated during camp, and you spent most of your time indoors, sitting near the cabins or up against trees, or sitting in the lunch area with Pamela Voorhees who worked at the camp to watch over her son Jason.

-          Pamela liked you because you were polite and never once made rude comments or gestures at Jason, so she tried to help build a relationship between you and her son.

-          Jason was still bullied by the other kids, which was the only time you really ever talked with the others kids as you always ran in to defend him, or push over the kids who were trying to hurt Jason.

 -          As time at camp passed you started holding Jason’s hand and you two would walk together everywhere, be it sitting together as you read out loud for him, or you going with Jason down to the lake to look at the bugs and other creatures that swam around.

-          You two got quite close and you started having a childhood crush on the other boy, who was starting to have a crush on you too because of how kind you were to him.

-          One day Jason brings you some flowers he’s picked and signed to you with the few signs you knew that he liked you, and he was very much expecting you to be disgusted because you were both boys and because of his appearance.

-          So when you blushed and told him you liked him too, he was over the moon. You were still just kids at the time so you being boyfriends didn’t really mean anything. You kept up holding hands and spending time together like before, and only Pamela knew you were “dating”.

-          She thought you two were so sweet together, so she never said anything about it.

 -          The day they threw Jason into the lake was one of your worst memories. Some of the older kids had knocked you down and were holding you down as they beat on you, others going to throw Jason into the lake.

-          When Jason didn’t come up from the water you started yelling and screaming, which finally caught the attention of the camp leaders and Pamela, the older woman coming running. When she saw you being held down, covered in bruises and beaten bloody, so yelled at the bullies and sent them off to take care of you.

-          But you were too busy sobbing about Jason, pointing at the lake and telling her what they had did and that he hadn’t come out.

-          You could never remember the noises Pamela made when she believed her son had died, and you left camp that evening as the bullying so was bad and the apparent death lead to the camps closing that year and the next few years.

-          You never looked back to the camp, and as the years passed the memories of Jason became another faint memory, though you did think of the sweet boy who had brought you flowers and who was bullied just for being himself.

 -          When you heard about the killings at Camp Crystal Lake, you couldn’t have cared much since it was just a place of your past and the home of one of your worst memories.

-          But some of your coworkers or classmates knew of your past there, having heard the story of you going there when it closed down somehow, so they pressured you to go with them to explore the area.

-          You found it idiotic to go where multiple murders had happened, but you had planned on going for a little bit and sneaking away and leaving when they weren’t looking.

-          Your coworkers or classmates acted like it was some kind of ghost hunt, too busy ooing and aahing at the buildings and the lake itself, so you could easily slip away into the woods. But as you snuck away you got far enough away to not be able to hear the sounds of your coworkers or classmates being killed.

-          You ended up getting lost in the forest, cursing softly under your breath as you stomped through the undergrowth and away from where you assumed the people you had came with were too busy acting like actual murders were just a cryptid story.

-          When you got caught in a trap you immediately cursed louder, your legs being tied together and sending you falling to the leaf covered ground. You were lucky you always carried a pocket knife so you got to work freeing your legs, too busy to notice the footsteps nearing you.

 -          You had just gotten your legs free and rolled to the side just in time for a machete to slash the ground where you had just been. Your heart leapt into your throat as you snapped your eyes up to see the large hockey masked giant, covered in blood and wielding the machete he had just tried to kill you with.

-          Instead of running like other victims, to Jasons surprise you immediately went into fight mode and somehow got the machete away from him, using your pocketknife to fight him off.

-          Your fighting continued, ending with you both on the floor with you pressed down against the wet forest floor with Jasons hulking frame above you with his large hands wrapped around your throat and squeezing, trying to choke you to death.

-          You choked and wheezed, clawing at his hands and arms to try and free yourself as you had lost your knife somewhere during the fight. How great that you would die in the exact same forest as Jason.

-          At some point you wheezed that you wouldn’t die here like Jason did, to which Jason immediately loosened his hands in confusion as you knew his name. Using his surprise you nail him right in the face, making him stumble just enough to be able to flip yourself around and struggle to your feet, still weak from almost being suffocated to death.

-          You raise shaky fists Infront of yourself as Jason slowly gets to his feet, but he doesn’t come at you again like before, instead he slowly tilts his head and looks at you more deeply, letting his eyes run all over your face and body as if trying to place you.

 -          When he suddenly twitches and straightens up you tighten your muscles and get ready to fight more, even though you feel like your okay to pass out.

-          That’s when Jason lifts his large, scarred hands and starts signing, moving faster than your way out of training brain can keep up with. That along with the horrible headache you were sporting made it impossible to understand him.

-          Seeing your struggle he slows his signing down, and uses a special sign he had made up to refer to you instead of having to sign your name. That was a sign you could recognize as only Jason used that when you were children, so you look at the killer with confusion.

-          When he signs it again and then signs his own name, you wheeze out a confused “Jason?” to which he happily nods. You are sure you must be dreaming or hallucinating, as you give a confused chuckle, the adrenaline in your body finally plummeting and making you pass out.

-          Jason lurches forwards and catches you, cradling you softly in his arms as if you are a fragile flower. He knows it’s a bad idea to bring you back to his own home, so he takes you to the tree you two always sat at as children and lays you down after checking to make sure you aren’t too banged up.

-          He quickly goes to clean himself up as much as he can with what he has, and goes out of his way to pick the same flowers he gave you as children to bring back to you.

 -          When you wake up alive and not dead, you lay in confusion for a while still feeling quite bad after almost being choked to death, and the shock that goes through your body as you notice Jason’s shape sitting in front of you immediately snaps you awake.

-          You try to back up only to hit the tree, which makes you finally realize where you are. That’s when Jason holds out the flowers to you, almost shyly, and it reminds you so much of that time he gave them to you as kids.

-          You can only stare at him in confusion for a while, the soft flicker of affection flaring up in your heart as if being revived from all those years ago.

-          When you don’t react or accept the flowers, Jason seems to curl in on himself a little, the hand holding the flowers lowering and he seems almost ashamed or regretful. So when you push yourself up and wrap your arms around you almost carefully, he makes a soft noise but soon returns the hug.

-          He hugs you very carefully, as if scared he will hurt you or break you in some way, but he holds you so dearly. He makes soft noises as if to tell you how much he’s missed you since you were the only one his age that ever treated him kindly.

-          You both just keep sitting there and holding each other, and at some point your position changes to you sitting in his lap and leaning against his chest as you arms are still around each other. You haven’t asked how he’s still alive or why he does what he does, but that doesn’t matter right now, you can always ask him that later.

-          All that matters is that he’s still alive and seems to still care about you in some way. So, you sit, watching the moonlight dance across the lake and the beautiful stars, held close to the chest of the man who was once your best friend. He was much larger and much more dangerous than before, but he still felt just like the Jason you remembered.

[asteroidzzzn]

I was replaying Ellie’s Seattle day 3 and got to the point where her and Jesse go to the one building with all the comic posters and where they decide their was a convention there and I got an idea. i was wondering if you could write mordern!ellie taking reader to a comic convention and nerding out. Sorry that was a really bad explanation😭

a/n: dwdw i understood i get u, this is so cute and ur so right bc she would totally do that

comic-con with ellie

pairing: modern!ellie x reader

word count: 0.8k

warnings: just cursing and fluff (✿◠‿◠)

you trudged through the hot crowd, shading your eyes with your hand from the radiant august sun.

you were at a convention with your girlfriend, who had begged you to go with her during summer. for the most part, you had no idea what she was getting excited over, but you happily took pictures of her with writers and cosplayers regardless.

when ellie told you she was going to the bathroom, you divided to wander around the massive space. there were a few popular comics you recognized, such as spiderman, batman, and your favorite, the flash.

you saw bright flashing signs of DC and marvel, fondly remembering the time when ellie gave you a very lengthy lecture on the difference between the two after you had said, "but, they seem the same to me...?"

a booth caught your eye where people were dressed up in intricate armor and handing each other cards. you approached them and studied the cards laid out. a woman sitting on a chair noticed you and smiled.

"hi! looking to trade or buy any cards or figurines?"

she gestured to the array of options on the table.

"um, which ones are from uh...savage starlight? it's my girlfriend's favorite so i wanna get something for her, but i don't know much about it."

"oh, that's no problem," she began shuffling around the cards and placed a figurine in front of you, "these are all savage starlight. you're lucky you came now, it's been very popular."

you pointed to a card of a woman named dr. daniela star. her hair sort of looked like ellie's, and she looked like a badass.

"how much for this one?"

she winced, "about $145, she's extremely rare, and that's the last copy we have."

"oh shit," you chuckled, "it's ok, i'll get it."

you bought the card and stepped away to look at more booths. your phone buzzed with a notification.

els 💗💫: omg babe come here rn

els 💗💫 shared their location with you

els 💗💫: im upstairs behind the x-men wall

els 💗💫: they have one of the cards here that i've been looking for since i was 14!!!!!

els 💗💫: i need to get it

you found your way upstairs eventually and found ellie, grinning widely while holding a trading card. it looked similar to the one you had just bought, with the same trimming and design on the back.

"look what i found! it's the robot one i was telling you about!"

"oh wow, that's great! doesn't that mean you only need a few more to finish the collection?"

she groaned and threw her head back. "yeah, i just need two more. one is way too expensive though, and the other is impossible to find. it's dr. star, the scientist that created the robot," she held up the robot with a disappointed look, then slipped it into her pocket.

you intertwined her hand with yours. "let's keep looking around, i'm sure you can find something else cool."

she nodded as she led you downstairs to continue strolling around the convention.

"you're so wrong! i would be mj and you're peter!" you teased ellie while you giggled as she rolled her eyes.

"fine, but i'm gwen and you're miles," she remarked, as the two of you stepped outside into the chilling air. you continued to bicker playfully as you walked to the car. as you stepped in ellie sighed.

"thanks for coming to this with me. you have fun?"

you nodded, "yeah, actually, i got a funny picture with someone that was dressed up as ronald mcdonald. i sent it to jesse and dina and they said "oh my god, you found your twin."

ellie let out a loud laugh, and you continued to talk about the experience with her, sharing cool things you saw as you wandered around alone.

"ugh about that, i'm still so upset i couldn't find the card i wanted," she said, voice laced with sadness as she shifted the car into gear to drive home. "it's all good, next year they might have it, or i could find it on ebay if i sell an organ or two," she shrugged at you and placed her hands on the wheel.

you placed your hand on top of hers to stop her.

"actually, while you were in the bathroom i found something," you reached into your purse and pulled out the dr. daniela star card, still encased in the plastic protection.

"oh my fucking god," she breathed, her jaw slack.

you bit your lip as she simply stared. a few seconds passed.

"...ellie do you like it?"

"i love you," she said, taking the card into her hands and inspecting it.

you snickered. "me or her?"

her gaze shot up to yours. "you, you. of course," she set the card down to grab your face with both hands and kiss you so hard you nearly tipped over onto the window. she pulled away for only to fall back onto you again, hugging you tightly mumbling "thankyouthankyouthankyou" into your shirt.

she sat back up and took the robot card from her pocket and compared the two of them. she looked like she was in awe. it was adorable.

"you're such a dork," you said.

"yeah, you love it though."

a/n: i hope i did ur idea justice anon 🙏

taglist: @ximtiredx @gold-dustwomxn @elliesinterlude @fireflyelllie @trulygnomed @deluluwh-0-re @toesorhoes @elliewilliamsmissingfingerss @emluvselandabs @ariianelle @jokerpokimoon @lonelyfooryouonly

[magicalrocketships]

hi! are you planning to write more of de-aged max bc he is just so cute it’s giving me a heart attack. saw a tiktok the other day w photos of baby max and all i could think about was this verse!!!!! ahhh lysm

Thank you!!! Here is a little bit more, in honour of grown up Max's adventures with colouring in.

(Hopefully this link shows the stuff I’ve already posted in chronological order. But anyway, this bit follows directly on from this part.)

It has been five full days since a seven year old Max showed up at Daniel's door in too-big clothes and holding out a little card with Daniel's name carefully printed on it in grown up Max's blocky handwriting. Baby Max shows no signs of going big again. He follows Daniel around his apartment, looks at his flag book, and plays with the Jimmy or Sassy cats — no further narrowing down of cat identity has occurred, due to Daniel having little to no interest in identifying cat penises, and grown up Max's complete fucking inability to put his fucking cat names on a fucking collar, or, indeed, to have informed Daniel of his Go Small plans at any point in the past three fucking years, but that's fine, Daniel is fine with this responsibility. Max has wet the bed every night and Daniel is just having to cross his fingers that he's not making everything worse by each and every decision he makes.

Anyway: if grown up Max doesn't show up again extremely soon, Daniel's going to have to bite the bullet and call Christian and tell him Max isn't going to be able to race. Max will hate that when he's back, if Daniel brakes too soon and makes the call, and more than that, it's going to turn baby Max into a Thing, and if there's one thing Daniel has learned in the last five days, it's that Max one hundred percent does not want to be a thing of any kind.

So, it's time for Emergency Measures. Maybe what will kickstart baby Max back into adulthood in time for his next race will be a race track, and go-karting. Daniel takes advantage of Max being distracted by his coloured pencils in the living room to google nearby karting tracks, and sends the nearest one a message to see if he could book out the whole track for a private session. The answer comes back with an immediate yes, which is probably in some part due to the figure Daniel had dropped in his message about how much he's willing to pay for the privilege.

He leans against the doorframe into the living room. Max is concentrating very closely on his colouring book, his coloured pencils all out on the coffee table. A little something in Daniel's chest shifts a bit.

"Maxy-Max," Daniel says, half way through his email response to the karting track. "Would you like to go karting tomorrow?"

There is a pause. "No, thank you, Daniel." Max does not look up from his colouring book, nor does he stop colouring.

Daniel also pauses. Max's little fingers hold onto his pencil tighter. He's pressing down hard on the picture.

"Okay," Daniel says. "Would you like to go another day, if we don't go tomorrow?"

"No, thank you, Daniel," Max says again. He still doesn't look up. His pencil might tear through the paper soon.

Daniel's been reading up on Going Small. Well, googling randomly when he can't sleep. Most people tend to think about Going Small as a way of connecting with your kid self, like… remembering who you once were in case maybe you wanted to stop being such a cunt or that you always wanted to sew clothes or build bridges and maybe your hedge fund job isn't as fulfilling as you maybe thought it was. Some people say it's as much for the people around you as it is about you, but whatever. Daniel had had a great fucking time in the pit lane six years ago, he remembers that much, although the detail has always been fuzzy. Like it happened a very long time ago. But there's another school of thought, one about the kids that don't age back up after a day or a couple of days, the kids who maybe lost a part of their childhood the first time around. Daniel's never met anyone who stayed small longer than a couple of days though, and it's so rare that the theory could be complete bollocks, and no one would ever know anyway. You can't battle data against the universe, it's not like race strategy. There's no science to it.

Max continues not to look at him. He's colouring the same line over and over again.

Daniel closes his email app, and slips his phone into his pocket. "Can I come and colour with you?"

Max nods, but doesn't look up. His fingertips are white around his pencil. He's used it down to the nub so that it's almost too blunt to colour with.

Daniel tries to sit down on Max's right side, but Max shakes his head and makes him come and sit on his left. Daniel positions himself cross-legged by the coffee table and it becomes clear just why Max wanted him this side when, a moment later, Max's little hand slips into Daniel's bigger one. Daniel does not now have a hand to colour with, but maybe it doesn't matter, because Max is colouring with enough concentration for the two of them, a big picture of a train with a cat sitting in the window next to the driver. He's being very careful. He still doesn't look up.

One of the Jimmy or Sassys wanders over to curl up by Max's little Pikachu-socked foot. The other one, the one who doesn't like being petted as much and prefers to watch you in a creepy and furry way while you're doing perfectly normal things sitting on the toilet or in the shower, perches on top of Daniel's shelves and stares at them.

Max's grip on his pencil loosens a little. Daniel leans over and kisses the top of his head. "You're very good at colouring," he tells Max. "We can cut out ones you've finished and put them up on the wall, if you'd like."

Max looks at him then, his eyes big and wide. "My pictures?"

"Your pictures," Daniel agrees. He reaches for the Pikachu pencil sharpener in the middle of the table. "Can I sharpen your pencil for you?"

Max dutifully hands him his blue pencil. His eyes are still shining, even though Daniel's had to stop holding his hand so that he can sharpen it for him. When he hands it back, all sharp, Max tucks his hand into Daniel's again.

"You've done some good colouring in of this train," Daniel says. "Have you been on a train, Maxy-Max?"

Max shakes his head.

"Would you like to go on one?"

Max's eyes widen. "A train?"

"Yeah," Daniel nods. "If you'd like, we can go and find a train to go on tomorrow. If you want to. We can take Pikachu."

"But not the Jimmy or Sassys," Max says, frowning. "They would not like the train and they might get lost."

"No," Daniel agrees. "The Jimmy or Sassy cats can stay here."

"There is a cat in my train picture but it is not our cats."

"No," Daniel says. "So, should we go on a train tomorrow?"

"Yes, please, Daniel," Max says, in satisfaction.

Daniel watches him colour even as he's avoiding texting Christian to let him know Max has gone small and isn't getting big again. He follows up on his avoidance by ordering a night light for Max's bedroom and one for the bathroom, in case his little boy is frightened of the dark and is too scared to say. He pays extra for same-day delivery.

He'll call Christian later, when Max is in bed. Instead, he googles train stations, and train timetables, and puts together a plan for the morning.

Max keeps his hand tucked into Daniel's, carries on colouring, and doesn't let go.

Thank you so much to Zoe @flawlessassholes for giving this a pre-post read through, and for consistently being interested in all baby Max lore!

[nico-esoterica]

"Nico, I wanna be a famous artist!" (A Case Study Using Manifestation and Astrology)

Lady Gaga went from no one knowing her name in a hand-made outfit at Lollapalooza in '07 to eclipsing and redefining pop culture in '09. And later headlined Lollapalooza in 2010. She told herself, "I'm going to make a Number One Record," and "The Fame is inside of Me," over and over again. This was what meteoric 'BTS-like' success looked like for millennials (which also happened in the same amount of time).

She manifested that shit like a motherfucker. She's living proof that a small indie artist who can barely move a crowd and who got INITIAL lukewarm reception after releasing her breakout album that only gained traction A YEAR LATER that YOU, IN FACT, CAN DO THIS SHIT. Gaga was performing in hole in the wall gay clubs in Europe and radios didn't care about that album until Just Dance blew up in the US. Every millennial remembers exactly where they were in life when that single became a hit song. This is also the woman who performed in an Ikea Parking Lot to promote said album.

This is a sign for all of the artists in the audience to NOT give up on your dreams. Even if things seem to be slow, delayed, or as if nothing is going on. There will always be SOMETHING behind the scenes if you commit to thinking in your favor. You're human and can have shitty days, weeks, etc, but it's important to NOT COMMIT TO BEING MISERABLE. Your engagement's gonna go up, you can find a new melody for that song, work through your writer's block and just WRITE the damn thing, and you're going to GET the right gig for you. Your dreams will be handed to you if you believe that they will. TRUST YOURSELF.

Astrologically, Gaga was in her 10H profection year when she first performed at Lollapalooza. But between 07-08+ she experienced the classic Jupiter and Saturn squares to her natal planet equivalents which occur in your early 20s that could've served as catalysts or hurdles she chose not to overcome and did the former. Contrary to what we hear about 10H profections being about finally being seen or getting promoted, etc, it's not inherently explosive. It depends on the chart and what the person does with their potential. Gaga used it as exposure and to further build her career that'd soon snowball into legendary success.

This isn't some Capitalistic tale about 'hard work paying off.' I don't believe in toil and 'hard work' in an exploitative economical sense. I believe in all-encompassing self-belief. Gaga could have easily thrown in the towel when the radios weren't gagged or the people weren't moving in the crowd. She, imo, was performing for audiences only SHE could see. Huge ones based on the scale she believed in.

Even if we could say her Mars-Neptune conjunction in Capricorn where she already had an exaltation or that her Moon-Mars or Moon-Pluto helped her, those harmonious aspects could have motivated her in the opposite direction if she wasn't seeing results. Because all of that Mars can easily wear out through exhaustion or entrap itself in the idea that it simply 'can't come easily.' Martian and Saturnian folks tend to enjoy suffering as a kink. She also could've easily been a flash-in-the-pan one hit wonder artist and faded or her era could've been very short. Maybe in hind sight it was from a musical perspective, but that 5 year run between The Fame and pre-Art Pop undeniably gave her quarter century defining success. And she'd later go on to win big accolades as a serious actress and is still going.

And speaking strictly astrologically, I see another big musical era for her coming. I saw it in Galliano's chart when his fire points got activated and will be emblazoned by Neptune in Aries transiting soon. I also see the same coming for our Mama Monster.

So, um, why are y'all giving up out there in the stands? COME GET ON STAGE AND CLAIM IT AS YOURS ALREADY.