#but it's changed a lot and i like it much better than the first version

[midnightshaze13]

I must say something because since I attended the Eras shows I feel this and I need to say it.

I've been a fan since crazier came out and she appeared on the cover of a disney magazine that my mom got me because I liked the song and wanted to know more about her, around 2010. Since then I've respected her and her work and came more and more in love with her writing and music.

Lately, I've seen on social media and at the shows of the eras that many people who attended recognized to have had hated on her in the past, but they now "adore her". Something about this feels wrong to me.

Literally, "the old taylor is dead" was made to win over the general public. She had to metaphorically kill all her previous versions that people didn't trust or tolerated; these versions of herself with which she managed to make her name in the music industry AND those are the same ones they all rejected and now they sing with their mouth full.

She was FORCED to get the approval of people like these who pointed and criticized every little nonsense*¹ about her in order to be able to do what she does now: succeed, fill stadiums with thousands of people and create a legacy which will be in the music History books.

What I want to get at is that Taylor Swift, in order to continue growing in the industry, has had to overcome and prove wrong all of you who were at hater position 2, 3, 10 years ago.

In order to be valued and respected for her job which is creating music and for her is specially writing her own songs, she was forced to learn how to dance better to beat the "she doesn't know how to dance" allegations; she had to change her dressing style and many other things like that to be what people wanted her to be so she can have the recognition she deserved previously and all.

To this day I think many don't like Taylor Swift for what she is and has been. Many people attending the Eras are people loving the results of her growing into something different to earn that respect and admiration. And most of those love the performance of a (now considered) cool girl on stage that she puts on every night on the Eras more than her for what she is and more than the music.

But to all those I must say, she's on the bleachers. That's how it was and that’s the narrative most of them rejected her for. It's not okay to me that they love her now that she's cheer captain.

If these people would have known taylor swift at that age when she wrote those and wasn't "cool" they may would've bullied her for the same things they claim to love her for now.

These are the same people who have bullied me and my other Swift's fans friends for decades just for us liking taylor's music. I had to battle and fight for tickets & a seat at The Eras Tour against people who used to bully me at school for liking her music.

In her own words: maybe you've reframed it and in your mind you never beat my spirit black and blue. But I don't think you've changed much.

I welcome those who discover her recently with open arms. But to the "haters to fans" that "now I can see how good she is" no thanks.

I've been here through a lot watching from a distance (tumblr, youtube) and I always dreamed about going to a Taylor Swift's show. I watched the videos of the speak now world tour when my parents wouldn't let me go because I was 13 years old. I watched the Red Tour while experiencing my first romantic heartbreak and the 1989 world tour when I was 16 and decided to not have boyfriends for a long period of my life. When I started uni and had the clean speech tied to my folder binder to see it every day, these people looked at me like if I was GREEN. And then at the Uni I watched the reputation stadium tour every late night before falling asleep wondering what it must felt like to be a part of it and I grew more into the desire of traveling to a show but couldn't afford it back then. The Eras Show was amazing, it absolutely blew all of my expectations, it truly is my once in a lifetime experience that I'm so grateful for. To have been able to experience all the past eras that I dreamed of in my past.

It feels wrong to see every person who once bullied me for dreaming about it out loud back in the day standing there making their own of the lyrics that for so many time were mine to scape real life and dream.

*¹nonsense: there was this time when every day we had a battle on twitter and other social media of people attacking taylor for the absurd fact that she was blonde, rich and famous and also thin. It was like that back then, they didn't had anything else to attack her for.

[verosikastrikerexcuser]

It says a ton about Vivziepop’s writing that when watching the latest episodes I was both

1) rooting for the C.H.E.R.U.B.S to win because then it would shake up the status quo and actually make it so that their screentime was justified but knew it wouldn’t happen because she hates that

2) Fully prepared for Stolas to do his full demon mode at the moment where Blitz confronted him because all signs were pointing to that (the red and black colors, Blitz fighting back for once and out of Stolas’s version of him) and in a better show where he was still the villain signify a big turning point in their relationship

Yeah there are no stakes at all. And ykw? That actually worked in season 1. Hear me out, while there were some exceptions like Striker as a threat, in S1 in the first cherubs episode the stakes were really just whether they’d be able to do the job for their client or not. Or the stakes were things like the bet in spring broken. There were episodes with danger like with DHORKS but even then, the agents were played as idiots and the serious/“omg what’s gonna happen next” type of focus never really actually was on them. Rather it was on the character drama that was sprinkled between the whacky antics, and the character drama was the actual thing that held weight, how character relationships would change etc. HB has always been a dual character drama and whacky action/comedy that mixes in silly moments with serious. This can make the tone difficult and arguably it’s always had a tone problem, like with the bullying of Moxxie being both a joke and his insecurity being something that’s supposed to be taken seriously. But I would say it mostly worked in S1.

The character drama was usually mostly resolved by the episodes end like at the end of Harvest Moon, Moxxies relationship with Millie’s parents improved. Or the character drama was shown but was deliberately left unresolved or was only half addressed in an “acceptable” way because it was such a big thing that was being shown. Blitz’s feelings towards Stolas in the drug trip for example - that’s something that would take more than 1 episode to resolve. Same I would say with Loonas feelings towards Blitz being overbearing in S1, they were shown and semi addressed but still left open to future development.

The less extreme stakes if IMP lost combined with the character drama in S1 made the stakes actually feel higher. I think it’s because losing a job to the cherubs or a bet feels more believable while you know they wouldn’t just kill off a main character. Also, the spring broken bet was related to Blitz’s past with Verosika. It was related to the character drama.

But when the characters are fighting for their very lives… you know they’re not gonna die. The violence in the DHORKS S1 ep felt fun because it was basically just a cool montage designed to look flashy and show our faves being cool and violent. And the whole plot of the episode was that they got caught by demon hunters. You still knew that they probably wouldn’t die and nothing too serious would happen but it didn’t feel like the violence was actively in the way of the drama as much. It wasn’t supposed to be that serious in the first place so you watched it more as just something fun instead of being supposed to actually take it seriously as a threat.

I think Full Moon encapsulates a lot of the serious problems with HB S2 relating to all the above. We knew that there was going to be a huge drama at the end of the episode. So all the violence and antics that exist for comedy or the sake of fun violence become just a roadblock cluttering the eventual actual point of the episode. They become an annoyance. It’s a lot harder to enjoy comedy and action when it’s actively working against and is in the way of the shows other half instead of complimenting it. In S1 before going back to antics they managed to mostly clear up the drama or we understood it was on the back burner because it was so big/would be addressed slowly over time and therefore the comedy and action felt less like it was in the way. Or the action was the character drama more - like the Striker/Blitz talk in Harvest Moon about class and the assassination. I just think the interspersing of comedy/action and drama is so bad lately. The S1 Cherubs episode knew that it was going to focus heavily on antics and so it didn’t bother with character drama. And it was so much better off for it! While Full Moon drags us through DHORKS, Cherubs, so much clutter all at once and all of it impedes and gets in the way of the St*litz shit instead of complimenting it. Why not do an episode that just focuses on those 2 and save DHORKs and the cherubs for a full relaxed comedy episode? Why can’t we have only or mostly comedy episodes anymore?

The drama also felt more precious and meaningful when it was rare. You really got on the edge of your seat because it was a scarce thing you didn’t see often and reminded you these whacky assassins were still complex characters behind the comedy. Now, a lot of the time it feels like it repeats over and over. Moxxie’s constant repeated supposed arc of feeling underestimated is especially guilty of this.

Compare Full Moon to the Ozzie’s ep as well. I feel like that episode built up the eventual drama that was going to happen and given the serious heavy drama they were addressing, they made it the entire episode’s focus and as the first half of a season finale that was fitting. It felt more like the episodes knew what they wanted to be - it’s just too bad we never got a sequel episode that actually wrapped up Ozzies. Instead we went back to the St*litz status quo, and we were supposed to ignore all that drama and go back to focusing on antics. Not addressing that conflict was so god awful and is another example of how the drama clashes so badly with the other stuff in the show since S2.

HB right now, in order to be all about St*litz, is caught in this stupid thing of desperately trying to still be a whacky violent comedy at all yet the drama is more and more serious and the show becomes more and more about only the drama. So this means whenever the antics come on they’re getting in the way of the drama instead. And it means the other drama that was set up like Loonas issues have been flushed down the toilet -_- I’m so tired.

I’ve gone on so long omg anon sorry for an insanely long response I won’t say too much about your other point but you’re absolutely right. I’ve seen people saying that a better show would have made St*las an antagonist instead and honestly… I have to agree. That scene really shows you what could have been if he was allowed to be the antagonist he acts like imo.

[lilislegacy]

The way haters just boil Annabeth's character to just insulting Percy and not seeing theres more to her really shows how much they dont get her. Honestly Percy would hate them for this...

thanks for the ask @emilia9622!

agreed completely. like if you want to dislike a character, go for it. but don’t lie to yourself. don’t base it all off of one thing or flaw and make it 100x bigger than it is.

for instance, i don’t like luke. but it’s for a multitude of reasons. he knowingly betrayed all his friends several times, fought a deadly war against them, and intentionally poisoned the camp. he was percy’s first friend at camp and was a mentor to him, but had no issues lying to him and deceiving him. he literally was fine with the idea of 12 year old little percy being dragged down to tartarus. he also let annabeth be kidnapped and forced to hold up the world. when he finally saw thalia alive, he fought her and tried to harm her. yes i know that there is very complex trauma and history that led to all his actions, and i really do feel so bad for him, but i can’t respect someone who betrays his close friends like that. no matter what. i could go on and on, and don’t get me started about him having romantic feelings for annabeth… UGH. but that said, i understand why people love his character. he’s complex and has a lot of really good history. he also has a wonderful, yet tragic, redemption at the end. he really deserved better. i don’t have love for him, but his character deserves love. i’m happy that there are people to love him so that i don’t have to, because i have personal reasons for not liking him. i think luke is an amazingly well written character and i think rick wrote him beautifully. the truth is, besides the singular part where he admitted he had feelings for annabeth, i wouldn’t change anything about him or his story. so personally, i don’t like him, but i think he’s a great character and objectively, i can see why people love him.

it’s okay to dislike a character. but don’t pick their biggest flaws, strip away all the good parts of the character, and fool yourself into believing that’s all they are. (and then continue to go on tumblr and scream about how toxic and terrible the character is 🙄)

this is what “people can’t handle complex characters” actually means. people often throw that phrase around. people say that about readers not liking jason all the time, but the truth is, people are fully entitled to not like jason. it doesn’t make sense to me, because i LOVE jason. he’s my cutie patootie. but the people who dislike him simply don’t like him. they don’t usually make him out to be someone he’s not, they just don’t like him for who he is. they often just don’t find him interesting enough to break down the more complex parts of his character. it breaks my heart, and i don’t understand, but that’s okay. they just don’t like him. there’s nothing else to it. most annabeth haters, however, make her out to be someone she’s not and then proceed to hate on that one self-generated version of her. it’s so toxic. THAT is not being able to handle a complex character

no, annabeth is not perfect. if she was, she would be unrealistic, and people would hate her for that too. yes, she has excessive pride. she tends to think herself above others, and yes that even includes percy at times. but you know what? she admitted to having that issue all the way back in book 2. she was literally 13 when she explained to percy what hubris is and how it’s her biggest downfall. she’s a self aware queen. she knows it’s an issue and she works hard to correct it in little ways and make sure the people around her, especially percy, know she values them and their opinions. anyone who read the heroes of olympus series unbiased and got to read her POV knows that annabeth holds percy in the highest regard. she respects the hell out of him. even though sometimes she says things that aren’t nice, she doesn’t truly feel that way and always corrects it in some way. she’s not selfish, she’s just tragically intelligent, and it naturally gives her a bit of a complex. it wouldn’t make sense if it didn’t.

and i love her for it. the fact that she has a real flaw that can affect relationships, but that she is self aware of and actively works on, makes her legit one of my favorite characters ever. she’s SO realistic.

but people take that one flaw and make it her whole character. they call her cold and harsh, when in reality she’s one of the most warm and sensitive people in the series. she takes care of her friends. she’s strong and she’s often the leader, but it’s because she’s so loving and kind all the time. she works hard and looks out for everyone. she makes friends fast for a reason. she’s a wonderful person. she’s so, so sweet, and it breaks my heart that people choose to take that away from her.

anyway, sorry i just word vomited so much. basically i agree 100%.

[lover-of-mine]

Personally, I like Tommy as a character, and I’m okay with BT for the time being, though I don’t really ship it. The biggest feature Tommy brought to the table this season was to make Buck realize he’s bi. But you could have replaced him with any random guy and I would have been just as happy about it.

My biggest issue is the toxicity from the BT stans. As in, I don’t appreciate being called a homophobe for thinking that the daddy-kink comment was out of place at the dinner date.

Look, we’re all part of the same fandom and if it makes you happy, go smash your Barbie doll’s faces together. Have fun with it. I support you 100%.

But the fact of the matter is that up until now, most of the things relating to Tommy come from head canons and Lou’s cameos. There isn’t much in the source material to go by. Mostly because he didn’t get a lot of screentime, and the writing of the scenes he’s been in, has been questionable. It’s not a very realistic show so why couldn’t they dress Tommy up for the bachelor party? It would have meant the world to Buck. (Oh, but guess who suggested matching outfits because he cares a whole lot about him?)

Yet, people are out here celebrating these two like it’s the most romantic thing since sliced bread. It’s jarring to see, how many people - especially former Buddie stans - jumped ships at the first opportunity they got. I don’t know if it’s a thing of instant gratification of having Buck in a queer relationship canonically or something else, but I don’t like it. The whole thing makes me worry, the show runners will change course to cater to the BT supporters and push for BT endgame. That would be the least satisfying ending to both Buck’s and Eddie’s story.

I will be honest with you, I think most of my dislike of Tommy comes from the way I am being called names because of him all season, it kinda kills a character's chances when the following of them gets so aggressive, he aggravates me more because of the way fandom treats him than because of anything he did this season because he was barely there this season beyond showing Buck he's bi, like you said. The fandom created this version of him and his relationship with Buck that's not backed by canon, because his scenes lack depth and the writers are not helping him at all and the way people flipped is actually disconcerting. Especially with how willing they are to attack everyone who doesn't agree they are the best thing to ever grace their television. But honestly, considering the way that buddie was still very much present and very much displaying the partnership and love they always had, I still think Tommy is a stepping stone that they are dragging out because it gave them better publicity that they were expecting. Buddie was the only thing that was handled carefully in both Buck and Eddie's storylines the whole season, they know the potential they have there, so I will keep the hope that they'll let this story unfold in a satisfying way. And yeah, it would be extremely unsatisfying to see Buck end up with Tommy with the way Buck was constructed and I like to believe they were way too careful with the construction of Buck in the love interest archetype to fumble the pass in the 2 yard line (I know that's not a saying but my brain is in football mode for some reason bear with me) and not give Buck the conclusion of that when they have been building Eddie in the way to fight that archetype by giving Buck someone who just loves him. And because no one they introduce for Eddie is gonna feel as satisfying as Buck with the way they kept playing up the way Buck is Eddie's life partner. And Buck is quite literally the only thing the show is allowing Eddie to keep. It would be unsatisfying to watch them end up with other people and that was very clearly exemplified by the season 6 finale and the way their ending were very 😬😬 yk? I have faith we will get there.

[mi-spark]

happy anniversary to explorers of sky!! i wanted to finally finish up this old wip to celebrate.

it’s based off a little headcanon i have where the partner remembers where they came across the relic fragment (rather than the extent of their memory being that they “happened to pick it up” somewhere they can’t recall)– it had washed up to them at the very same beach they met the hero on. the fragment/hidden land seem to have a strong connection to the ocean sooo it made sense to me. the rock that began it all

[forcedhesitation]

...just heard about the upcoming perk changes...hmm...yeah. the only good one definitely is the adrenaline nerf. I've wanted them to take away healing off hook forever.

the other perk changes are ass.

ultimate weapon is still outrageously unfair, even if you take away the screaming! to me, it feels like they just saw the uptick in people using calm spirit following the addition of ultimate weapon, and decided "hm, the way to deal with this is to remove the screaming." no! this perks needs to be reworked differently! given a longer cooldown, something! it does way too much for just one perk!

DS buff isn't going to stop tunnelling. strong killers don't care if you stun them, and weaker survivors likely won't even have DS because it's licensed...waste of a buff. just as they should do with off the record, they need to spread out these important anti-tunnel strategies to general perks. it's so unfair that something this important be gated behind a DLC. and no one perk should ever be too strong!

also, I saw otz's commentary on the changes. I could not agree more that certain killers should be nerfed directly, rather than trying to just balance perks generally. not all killers interact with different perks the same... nurse, wesker, huntress, blight, etc do not care about a stun, even if it's increased in length. you need to change them & how their powers work in relation to stuns, so survivors have a chance to get away from them, rather than buffing the perk so that old man ghostface has an even worse time in this dogshit meta lmao.

[ikyw-t]

this is a moodboard for how my brain has been feeling the past couple weeks. yes i spent like 10 minutes organizing these pictures if that tells u anything about how im feeling

[inbarfink]

When talking about the distinction between Simon Petrikov and the Ice King,  it’s important to remember that originally, the Crown wasn’t trying to turn Simon into Ice King -

It was trying to turn him into this guy.

At the time, the Ice Crown - or rather the Wishing Crown - was programmed with Gunther’s wish to become Evergreen. So everything related to making the current wearer like Evergreen is a very direct result of the Crown’s Magic. The physical changes -

And the obsession with the name ‘Gunther’ -

And maybe some of the irritability and anger issues -

That is something the Crown is very directly forcing unto its current wielder. 

But everything else?

Ice King, personality-wise, was not much like Evergreen at all, or even like Gunther's view of him. And Ice Finn of the Farmworld Universe was also pretty different from the both of them.

At the time, I remember people assumed Ice Finn’s behavior is more indicative of what the Crown is actually trying to do with its wielders. That Ice King is so different because of Simon’s subconscious resistance against the Crown - while Finn’s much younger and dumber brain is a lot susceptible to the Curse’s influence to become some sort of mad world-conquering emperor of ice and snow. 

But, with the context of the Crown’s actual backstory. That doesn’t seem very likely anymore. I think what’s actually happening there is that the Crown is just trying to make its wielder an Ice Wizard on par with Evergreen (who was the Actual Goddam Ice Elemental) and that means pumping the wielder’s brain so full of Magic, Madness and Sadness to a level that is bound to overwhelm anyone.

And Simon’s and Farmworld Finn’s very different behaviors after putting on the crown is indicative, more than anything, of how their psyche reacts to Madness and Sadness in general. You know, Finn has a very proactive and kinda aggressive personality - and you add Crown-induced-Madness-and-Sadness and a compulsion to use Ice Magic as much as possible and you get all of…. this 

Meanwhile, for Simon, the compulsions of the Crown originally filtered exclusively via the language of protection 

As his madness always manifested as romantic obsession 

And using goofy humor to try and deny the pain he’s going through 

Because that’s how Simon’s mind specifically reacts to being flooded with so much Madness and Sadness.

That’s why there’s so many parallels between Ice King and the sort of mistakes and screwed-up stuff Simon does right now! He’s even kidnapping people again!

Because the Madness and Sadness of Ice King might’ve been induced by the Crown, but now Simon has plenty of personal home-grown Madness and Sadness inside him - and it’s no surprise that Curse-Induced or not, his mind reacts to it in a sorta-similar way. (Although obviously not as intensely, again, there was a LOT of MMS in the Ice Crown).

Now as for Ice Thing, and the fact that he seems to be actually rather well-adjusted under effects of his version of the Wishing Crown. I mean... not by the time of the 1000+ Era, but that’s literally eons in the future and also maybe more Gibbon’s fault. Even if the Crown will eventually take some sort of toll on him, for now he seems to be doing pretty well considering his wish. I mean, there's still some sort of Loss of Identity stuff going on

But everything we've seen of Ice Thing (in the present day, at least) shows him as a friendly and cheerful individual that gets along well with others. A far cry from how maladjusted every single wielder of the Ice Crown acted.

At the very least, if there's any notable amount of Sadness in him, we really haven't seen it yet.

There might be several factors here:

First things first, I should acknowledge the possibility that it’s just that Orgalorg’s eldritch brain is better at intaking all that MMS juice. That could play a part, but I think it’s probably more important, at least thematically, to look at the distinction between ‘I wish to be Evergreen’ and ‘I wish to be Ice King’. 

First in the sense that while Ice King was occasionally mean to Gunter at times - he was generally much kinder than Evergreen ever was for ‘his’ Gunther. So, like, pretty much the one Personality Flaw of Ice King that you can directly link to the Ice Crown’s attempt to mimic Evergreen is the occasional anger issues.

And how they relate to Gunther’s view of Evergreen, so grumpy and controlling and constantly saying ‘NO!’

(Both Finn and Simon’s demonstrable not-crown-induced trauma responses can make them pretty short-tempered as well. So I’m not going to say this is purely the effects of the Crown. It still probably plays some sort of factor at why the wielder of the Ice Crown is Like That).

And that is not a factor in how Gunter views Ice King. For him, Ice King was a doting and loving father figure - so if the Crown was ever trying to implement any sort of specific negative personality traits, this is absolutely no longer a factor. Because the original Ice Crown was a reflection of Evergreen’s abuse, and now Ice Thing is a reflection of Ice King’s fatherly love.

Which is, itself, probably an echo or remnant of Simon’s own strong parental instincts. 

Secondly, while the Crown was trying to make the Ice King just as powerful as Evergreen…. Ice King was obviously not as powerful as Evergreen. Because he was already a second-rate copy of the Ice Elemental’s power, and because Ice King was often just too doofy to use his powers correctly and probably because some remnant of Simon’s original sensible self is subconsciously holding his powers back.

Either way, being ‘like Ice King’ as Gunter sees him requires less Magic than being ‘like Evergreen’ as Gunther saw him - and therefore less Madness and Sadness. Leading to the wearer or, um, the eater being a lot more well-adjusted from the get-go.

And I think that the implication that Ice Thing has fused with the Crown, so there's never going to be another poor sap who puts on the Crown and gets Ice King'd. But if there is one somehow... at least the process is going to be less mentally detrimental that time around?

Maybe one day Simon could look back and appreciate how much he (or Ice King, or both of them, or however you want to look at the situation) is responsible for basically neutralizing the Crown that ruined his life in the first place.

[jytan2018]

I read the comic in one sitting less than an hour after finishing the movie, and wow I have many Thoughts™.

- It's very obvious the two versions were meant to cater to different audiences AND tell different messages. I don't get why people are going "But the comic was better! It had more nuance!" just because Nimona was easier to root for in the movie.

- The comic was written back when ND Stevenson was still trying to process a lot of stuff, so all the characters are morally grey/straight up evil and the climactic battle is between a Ballister who regrets turning against Nimona, even if it was to save others vs. a Nimona who's too hurt to care if her lashing out was going to hurt innocent people.

- By the time Nimona got a movie adaptation, ND was a lot more secure in his sexuality, so the climactic battle was Nimona vs. the Director, the symbol of religious oppression and bigotry. It's not just about your friends turning on you because you're "too much" for them anymore, it's also about a society that would rather bring itself to the brink of ruin than coexist with you.

- (I totally get why people were upset about Ballister's surname change, though. Like come on, the media dubbing him Blackheart just to be mean was RIGHT THERE).

- Nimona's metaphor for not shifting is such a neurodivergent thing. Even in the comic, Nimona's parents insisting she's a monster who replaced their daughter is reminiscent of the changeling myth, which is what many parents thought their neurodivergent kids were—changelings who replaced their "real" children.

- Ambrosius being trained to cut off HIS BOYFRIEND'S WHOLE FUCKING ARM instead of merely disarming him is a very cop thing to do. As much as cops claim they're trained to de-escalate situations, their training still teaches them to treat everyone as a potential threat, and that level of constant vigilance can turn anyone into a trigger-happy/arm-choppy bastard. Even the Director, who can use a sword but probably hasn't actually fought someone in ages, STILL can't see Ballister reaching for the squire's phone without assuming he has a weapon.

- And on that note, the Queen getting killed simply because she was trying to reform the Institution and allow commoners to become knights? That's the best "no such thing as a good cop" metaphor I've seen. Because even if there ARE good cops and they ARE in leadership positions, the system will crush them before they make any meaningful change. It's not a good institution that turned rotten, it's an institution that only exists to spread its rot and refuses to be good.

- That's why Ballister's characterisation is so different in the movie vs. the comic. Comic Ballister had 15 years to come to terms with his trauma and the Institution's evildoing, while Movie Ballister is still freshly traumatised and hasn't found a way to define himself beyond the role he was assigned by the Institution.

- Not to mention Comic Ambrosius was not very noble to begin with and genuinely believed Ballister was better suited to villainy than heroism, while Movie Ambrosius never wanted the glory that came with his lineage in the first place and only antagonised Ballister because of indoctrination he needed to unlearn (which he did, all by himself, after witnessing the lengths the Director will go to just to kill Nimona).

- It really shows how important it is to surround yourself with loved ones who are open to change. Comic Ambrosius can love Ballister all he wants, but he'll still blast his arm off because he thinks Ballister deserved it anyway. Movie Ambrosius will stop to question what "the right thing" even means, even if he didn't love Ballister enough to defend him unconditionally.

I have so many more thoughts bubbling beneath the surface, but I'll probably address them some other day. In conclusion:

[ID: A pink-haired Nimona grinning evilly while holding up a knife.]

Watch Nimona. This is not a request.

Edit: Added more thoughts!

[welcometoteyvat]

wahoo finally “”””caught up”“““““ on fontaine leaks

[cupid-styles]

daisy (english profrry x TA!yn)

part one of english profrry is here!!!!!

word count: 6.3k

BIG content warnings: massive, glaring warning for an inappropriate relationship. y/n is a graduate student in this and of legal consenting age, but there's an age gap of four years between her and harry. she is his TA, which means there's a big power imbalance between them. bc this is fic we'll pretend it's romantic and all very consensual but if this is triggering to you in any way, DO NOT READ IT. it's not worth hurting your mental health. also, if anything remotely like this happens in your personal life, IT IS NOT OKAY.

other CWs: small smut scene at the end (m masturbation with descriptions of m receiving oral, slight cum play), y/n alludes to having seasonal depression but it's never outwardly said (just be aware since the descriptions of it could be triggering to some!), a bit of angst but nothing crazy

with all that out of the way, if you still choose to read, I hope you enjoy :) love you all lots!!

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. . .

Professor Styles is a dick. 

That’s what the entire English department said when it was announced that Y/N would be his newest teaching assistant for the spring semester.

They all sneered at her, throwing what they pretended to be caring warnings her way, claiming that he was impossible to work with and he didn’t even actually need a TA, he just liked picking students to embarrass. With their noses upturned at Y/N but not actually offering any kind of advice, she left the small English building shortly after the Dean unveiled the new schedule for TAs, anxiety bubbling in her stomach and thick, salty tears in her waterline. 

She knows Professor Styles doesn’t have the greatest reputation on campus. She actually actively avoided taking any classes with him throughout the duration of her bachelor’s degree, and even as she chose to stay on to enter her first year of graduate school, she picked any other available professors over him.

He was known for his less-than-personable demeanor and the way he picked apart students’ essays, leaving them questioning their entire life path. Y/N has never felt much insecurity about her career — she’s always wanted to go into English, maybe opting for a small but impactful job in publishing or editing — but having a professional ruin her writing sounded… well, awful. 

In reality, Y/N didn’t have much of a choice when it came to her teaching assistant preferences. She needed a job that wouldn’t take up too much of her time. Her first semester of grad school was difficult and stressful. All of her friends graduated and went on to cool jobs all over the country, while Y/N just stayed in the same apartment. She was homesick for her family and walked through a campus every day that reminded her of a better version of herself — one who had a flourishing social life and excellent grades. Just a few months of working on her masters degree had worn her down. 

Despite the slight dip in her grades from university to graduate school (an expected change, her advisor had explained), she was still recommended as a TA for the English department in the spring. She’d really been gunning after Professor Rooney, a kind, middle-aged woman who had spent years working glamorous jobs in the publishing world. She had connections everywhere and was incredibly sweet, and Y/N knew she would feel comfortable working in her sections for the semester. All winter break, she imagined how wonderful it could be; that maybe it was the huge win she needed after such a shitty fall. 

But Professor Rooney didn’t choose her. Professor Styles did.

Even with a promise of a reasonable stipend contingent on the completion of her TA position, Y/N’s world felt like it came crashing down just a little bit — but she knew better than to complain or blubber on about not getting her way. Instead, she chose to just get through it.

In the final days of winter break, Professor Styles emailed her to meet in his office the day before classes began. He didn’t ask if she was back on campus or if she had a good break. Y/N wanted to resent that, but chose to swallow it down. 

When she got to his small office in the department, she gently knocked on the open door, signaling her arrival. He peered up from whatever book he was hunched over on his deck, straightened his posture, and checked his watch. 

“You’re late.” he said flatly, shutting the paperback with a force she didn’t even know was possible. With furrowed brows, she glanced at the lockscreen on the phone she held. 

“You said 10:30, right? It’s 10:30 now.”

“On time is late,” he muttered, folding his hands on his desk, “Early is on time.”

She swallowed, her lips parting like a guppy. He rolled his eyes and motioned to the seat on the other side of her desk. Quickly, she took it, placing her tote bag at her feet and making a mental reminder to arrive at his classes five minutes early from this point on.

“Right, so you’re my TA, then?”

She nodded, “Yes, for the spring semester.”

He hummed, though she couldn’t tell if it was a sound of approval or discontent. He moved his computer mouse over the surface of the university provided mouse pad, making his computer buzz to life. With an awkward silence settling between them, the sound of the mouse clicking was the only thing that filled the dim office. 

“You just graduated from the English department last spring,” he said, eyes scanning over what she now assumed was her student file, “3.8 GPA. That’s fine.”

She blinked at that, resisting the urge to balk at him. 3.8 was .2 away from a perfect GPA. It was more than fine.

“You didn’t take any classes with me during your time as an undergrad.”

“Um, your sections were always full—”

“I don’t really care what your reasoning is,” he cut her off, continuing to scroll down the screen. A lump formed in her throat but she tried to swallow it down. Nothing sounded more embarrassing than crying in front of Professor Styles. “And now you’re getting your masters in English with a concentration in Feminist Literature. That’s an unusual one. Why?”

She’s surprised he’s bothered to ask her a question, so it takes her a moment to form a cohesive answer on her tongue. She’s flailing a bit and she knows he can tell, based on the unamused expression on his face. 

“I’ve read a lot of literature where there’s a female main character and she’s just used to state a point or some sort of backwards lesson that was considered modernized for the time,” Y/N speaks softly, picking at her nails in her lap, “I’m interested in studying that more.”

“What kind of literature?” Professor Styles instantly fires back. 

“Well, I wrote my undergraduate thesis on The Scarlet Letter, but I’ve also been thinking about basing my graduate capstone on Ophelia from Hamlet.”

He makes that annoying humming noise again, and she’s still unsure if he’s pleased or thinks she’s an idiot. She wasn’t unused to the latter — a lot of snobs in the English department thought it was stupid of her to care for critiquing older pieces of writing from an argumentative, feminist perspective, even if they acted like The Odyssey was an “absolute must-read” for everyone.

(It’s not. Y/N thinks The Odyssey is dumb and boring, but she’ll never say that, especially not to Professor Styles.)

“Right, well,” he lifts a white ceramic coffee cup to his mouth and swallows briefly. She glances down to see he’s drinking hot black coffee, and her lips furl into a quick, involuntary wince. “You’ll be with me three days a week. You are to attend the daily lectures — Mondays and Wednesdays are the shorter section and Friday is the long, three-hour one. Helping out with grading and holding office hours will be your primary tasks. If you fall ill or need to take a day off, I need at least 24 hours notice. If I receive any complaints from students, you’re out. Otherwise, it should be a fine semester. Any questions?”

She shakes her head, hoping he’ll show some inkling of delight at her quick ability to understand and process. Instead, his lips remain in a flat line and he nods, taking another sip of his coffee. 

“You can go now. See you tomorrow.”

She scrambles to leave his office as quickly as possible.

. . .

Professor Styles barely speaks to Y/N for the first few weeks. 

It’s unsettling in a way, especially because she doesn’t know if she’s doing a good job. She thrives off of reassurance, but every time she hands him a neat stack of newly graded papers or drafts, he simply waves her off with an, “alright, thanks.”

If she’s being honest, it makes her want to try even harder, though she’s not entirely sure why. She has the urge to claw her way to the very top of Professor Styles’ repertoire of students and assistants — a need for perfectionism that can only be quelled by the person least likely to give it to her. 

And it’s driving her absolutely insane.

She wants to ask, straight out, “am I doing an alright job? Do you need anything more from me?”, but she’s positive that will only make her glow with insecurity. He’d probably laugh in her face and call her a baby for needing his acceptance.

It eats her alive as she sits at the front of the lecture hall, watching his female students stare at him with hearts in their eyes as he discusses the politics of Ursula Le Guin. It bugs her only more than he's one of the most attractive people she's ever seen, always impeccably dressed with long, ring-clad fingers.

Grumbling, she realizes that she probably looks just as pathetic, so she quickly straightens her posture and runs her fingertips over the mousepad of her laptop so it glows back to life. She’s supposed to be going over the grades of the students’ first essays — her and Professor Styles were meeting after class to discuss them in the event that anyone needed additional assistance for the upcoming paper.

She busies herself with that until he ends class, creating a list of a few names that would potentially need to be met with one-on-one. He doesn’t say anything as he gathers his own materials from the lecture, and she follows him out of the hall and to his office just as silently, carrying her laptop in one hand and her tote bag on her shoulder. 

Professor Styles’ office is always cold and dark, never failing to send a shiver down her spine when he unlocks the door. Today, her shoulders shudder involuntarily and she pushes her sweater sleeves down to cover her hands. With a rumple in his eyebrows, he sits down. 

“What’s the matter?” he asks. 

Y/N snaps her head up in surprise. She doesn’t mean to look shocked, so she quickly revises her facial features in an attempt to look collected. 

“Oh, it’s just cold,” she says, waving him off nonchalantly, “I’m fine.”

“Yeah. I think this winter has been especially brutal.” 

His reply especially dazes her — she’s unsure if that’s an attempt at making small talk, something Professor Styles has never done with her before, but she instantly nods her head, as if she’s speaking with a toddler who’s expressing their emotions for the first time. 

“Yeah, I think so,” she says softly, “The snow is awful to walk through.”

“Do you live far from campus?”

She shakes her head and sets her laptop and planner on her side of the desk, across from Professor Styles and his things. 

“No, just a 10 minute walk or so, but I don’t have a car.”

He hums at that — that stupid, unassuming hum that contributes absolutely nothing to the conversation. She wonders if she’s in her head about it, but she feels his eyes linger just a beat longer on her face before tearing them away. He licks over his teeth as he taps on his laptop to wake it back up. 

“Right, then. Did you go over their grades?”

As she pulls her things out from her bag, she tries to ignore the small pit of disappointment in her tummy from Professor Styles shifting their conversation back over to class. 

. . .

That weekend, Y/N thinks she’s hallucinating as she meanders up and down the aisles at Target. 

She’s not really looking for anything in particular. Sometimes she just comes here for something to do. Her bank account isn't exactly flowing in a way that permits her to buy all the cute home decor she gazes at, which is why her basket currently consists of the following: pads, a new pack of her favorite gel pens, cookie dough, and a lip balm that she’ll probably put back before she checks out. 

It’s another harsh, cold day out, the freezing temperatures refusing to let up as the days of the month flit by. This is Y/N’s least favorite time of year — when winter sticks around despite the holidays being long gone. All that’s left between now and spring is pesky snow and fake Hallmark holidays, and she yearns for the days where she can walk to campus and admire the tulips peeking out from the damp soil. By then, she’ll be closer to returning to her hometown for the summer, where she’ll likely get a job for a few months working in the local library or bookstore.

It’ll be good — she’ll get to see her friends and spend time with family and save up some money, and maybe the hopefulness of life warming up in a few months will be enough to get her through this semester.

And as she’s daydreaming of brighter days, that’s when it happens — when she thinks she must be fully hallucinating, because as she strolls down one aisle in particular, Professor Styles is standing there, his bottom lip pinched between his fingers as he stares at space heaters. 

She’s never seen him off campus. Sometimes that happens since a lot of professors live close by, so it’s not unheard of to pass by an advisor or faculty member at the supermarket or through the park. But seeing Professor Styles here feels… illegal, somehow, especially given his casual, dressed down attire. He’s wearing what looks to be a cozy sweatshirt and a pair of athletic shorts, despite the temperature nearing the 20s today. (Y/N is bundled up in three sweaters, a jacket, a scarf, gloves, and leggings beneath her jeans.) White socks go just above his ankles, and the running shoes on his feet make her wonder if he’s insane enough to actually be working out in this weather. 

She must be analyzing his form for a beat too long — maybe it’s the shock from it that still hasn’t worn off — because he feels her gaze, eyes veering to his peripheral, realizing that his teaching assistant is standing there as if she’s waiting for permission to enter the aisle. 

“Hey,” she blurts out when she realizes she’s been caught. 

Confused by her frank, laidback greeting, he lifts his head to face her. “Hey.” he echoes awkwardly.

“Um, sorry.”

He quirks an eyebrow and Y/N’s body heats with embarrassment. “Sorry?”

“Sorry… I-I should’ve just walked away when I saw you,” Y/N quickly attempts to revise, but she realizes it’s just making her sound stupider, “I was just surprised to see you here.”

“In a public store?”

“Right,” she nods curtly, turning on her heel, “Have a good rest of your weekend—”

“Wait, did you need something down here?” he rushes out, almost as if he’s fearful she’ll leave. She pushes the thought down but parts her lips nervously, eyes scanning over the contents on the shelves. She doesn’t need anything, she was just putting off having to brave the cold weather on her walk home.

“Yes,” she says slowly because, once again, she’s suddenly stupefied and enamored by the prospect of small talk with Professor Styles, “I needed… lighters. For my candles.”

He nods, a quiet “ah,” sounding from his lips, and they stand there like they’re doing some sort of parallel play; Y/N pretending to look at the long, safety lighters while Professor Styles continues to look at space heaters. She wonders if he for some reason is pretending, too, but then he’ll squat down to look at the features on one box, making a tsk-ing noise with his mouth, and straighten back up to analyze a different model.

When he finally decides on an option that’s best fit, he grabs the box and places it in his cart. Quickly, Y/N plucks a random display of lighters and throws them in her basket.

“Hope you found a good one,” she mutters out dumbly, feeling the need to interject one last sentence into their silence. He glances down at his cart, then at her basket, and then, finally, at her. 

“It’s for the office,” he says. “You said it was cold.”

“Oh. Yeah.”

“This should help with that.”

“Sure, yeah. I have one at home, it helps a lot with the draftiness.”

“That’s what I’m hoping for.”

“Maybe you can get an extra lamp in there, too. Spruce it up a bit.”

A wrinkle forms between his brows, “What do you mean?”

Y/N wishes the ground would swallow her up whole.

“Nothing! I just meant— like, sometimes it’s a bit cold, and with the weather, it can get dark, too. The winter’s tough, don’t you think? That’s all I meant, I’m sorry—”

“No, you’re right,” he says with a decisive nod. “You’re the only other person that really spends time there besides students. Do you want to help pick one out?”

“Sure, okay.”

They walk in silence to the lighting display, which is filled with a myriad of different options. Professor Styles looks semi-overwhelmed by it all and Y/N has to bite her lip so she doesn’t smile too widely at his confused expression. She points to a simple, inexpensive standing lamp.

“I think something like this would be good, in the corner or something. Just for some extra brightness.”

“Is that the one you like?”

Y/N doesn’t have strong lamp preferences, especially when it comes to a space that she’s not even living in, but for some reason, it seems important that she says yes. So she nods her head, flashing him a small smile. He returns it, and she realizes that’s the first time he’s ever smiled at her. 

“Okay. I’ll have this stuff set up for when you come in on Monday.”

She swallows, feeling the mountain of adoration in her stomach grow. She shoves it down. 

“Thank you, that’s really kind of you,” she says.

“Sure. I’ll see you then. Have a good rest of your weekend.”

She hides in the lamp aisle for another 15 minutes, until she’s positive he’s left the store. 

. . .

Professor Styles and Y/N are working in their typical silence when he says something that makes her jaw nearly drop to the floor.

She thought that after their short but personable interaction at the store, things would change a bit. Maybe he would feel more comfortable talking to her outside of monotone grunts or the occasional “are they failing my class?”, but things remained the same. When she came in that Monday, the space heater and lamp were both on and running as he promised, but it was as if nothing happened. 

It irks Y/N to no end.

She assumes that he sincerely doesn’t care for her, which she supposes is fine considering kindness or approval aren’t part of the job description. That’s why she’s shocked when he says it a few weeks after the weekend they saw one another in public. 

“I think you should ask to change your advisor to me.”

Y/N chokes on her spit, hurriedly coughing into her hand so she doesn’t spray saliva all over his desk. Once she recovers, he’s staring at her expectedly, as if what he said was completely and utterly sane. 

“Sorry?” she asks, “Why would I do that?”

She doesn’t mean it to sound rude, but it’s a genuine question. Typically, there’s some type of rapport between a grad student and their advisor, and she and Professor Styles have absolutely none of that. 

Professor Styles clears his throat and folds his hands on his desk. “Because I got my masters degree in the same thing, so I spent four years studying exactly what you’re studying. I think you’ve been doing very well as my TA and I would like to advise you.”

“Why would you ask me why I was studying that, then?” she blurts out, confusion apparent on her face. “The first day we met, you told me it was unusual.”

“It is.”

“But you studied it.”

“I did.”

“So why would you say that?”

Professor Styles sighs as if this is the most boring and obvious conversation he’s had all day. 

“I wanted to hear you defend it. See why you’re interested and make sure it’s not all bullshit.”

Y/N shakes her head, “So you were playing some kind of mind game with me? For fun?”

“It wasn’t a mind game, Y/N. I just wanted to know why you’re interested in it.”

She bites her lip and looks down at her laptop screen, which has since gone dim since they began talking. If she’s being truthful, she’s grown tired of Professor Styles. Up until now, she was positive she was doing things wrong and he just didn’t care enough to correct her — only to find out that he wanted to work with her even more. It made zero sense.

“Are you going to do it, then?” he asks, tearing her from her thoughts. Her expression pinches as she rolls her lips into a thin line. 

“I don’t know.” she answers in a watery voice. “I like my advisor, and I assumed you didn’t like me very much.”

His eyebrows furrow. “Why wouldn’t I like you?”

“You barely utter three words to me on a daily basis and never tell me if you’re happy with my work.”

Professor Styles scoffs, leaning back against his leather computer chair. 

“You need regular approval from me to know whether or not I like you?”

“Yes,” she admits, anger building in her chest until she can’t help but blurt out what she’s thinking, “It’s how I work. If you were a good professor, you would’ve asked how I best function at the beginning of the semester. Instead, you ignore me for fun.”

“You don’t think I’m a good professor.”

She sighs and shakes her head. “I didn’t mean that. I think you are. I just don’t think you’re the best at managing teaching assistants.”

He shrugs, but she notices a slight wince in his features. “We can’t all be good at everything, can we?”

“Right,” she mumbles, drumming her fingers on the edge of his desk. When he doesn’t reply, she shuts her laptop and stuffs it in her bag. “I’m gonna go then. I’ll see you next week.”

He’s silent as she gets her things together and pulls her jacket on, wrapping her scarf around her neck and zipping it on top of her sweater for extra warmth. As her boots carry her across the length of his office and to the door, he stands from his seat. 

“Y/N,” he says, and she turns to look at him. “The deadline to change your advisor is next Friday. I hope you’ll still consider it.”

. . .

That evening, all Harry can think about is his sweet, quiet TA. The one who he undoubtedly offended earlier today — he cringes at the thought of it, replaying their conversation over and over in his head. He can’t stop thinking about the upset look on her face. When she asked if he was playing mind games with her, he wanted to get down on his knees and beg for her forgiveness. He never meant to hurt her, not one bit. 

He sighs as he runs his hand through his hair. He’s had reruns of some shitty sitcom on since he got home from work a few hours ago. He didn’t want to be alone with his thoughts, but even a laugh track and ‘90s era merriment couldn’t distract him from thinking about her. 

He considers the things she said about wanting his approval. He’s never been well-liked in the English department, likely because of his rough exterior. He’s not immune to the things he hears from students and faculty, about how he’s grumpy and someone to be feared, even if he didn’t even intend to come off that way. In all honesty, he never wanted to be perceived in that matter — but once his reputation began to precede him a year or two ago, he figured there was no use in trying to convince people otherwise. 

That's how it had always gone, anyway — in high school, when he started experimenting with different styles of clothing, everyone assumed he was gay. He'd desperately tried to refute those claims, even if he wasn't completely sure of his sexuality himself. But no one cared — they'd already made up their minds, and it seemed useless to attempt to change their ways of thinking.

And when people spoke here, mumbling about how mean and terrible he was... well, what was the point?

Y/N was the only person he cared to win over, and it was eating him alive.

So much so that he made the blind decision to maybe, possibly cross a very clear boundary between professor and TA. Despite Y/N being of legal, consenting age (after looking at her student file, he found that he’s only four years older), he still attempted to prioritize maintaining a professional relationship with every one of his students and TAs. 

He couldn’t help himself with her, though. He knew it was bad — he could feel his heart thumping quickly in his chest, the logical part of his brain telling him to stop while he’s ahead, but he couldn’t. Not as he grabbed his laptop, logged into his work email, and composed a message to her student address. Not when his fingers danced over the keyboard and resisted the urge to implore her to start fresh with him. Not when he clicked ‘send’ without even proofreading to make sure it sounded appropriate, not creepy or weird.

He pushed his laptop away and got up to pour himself some wine, attempting to rid himself of any lingering guilt.

. . .

From: hstyles@university.edu

To: ynyln@university.edu

Subject: Today

Time: 9:57 p.m.

Hi Y/N, 

I wanted to apologize for how I acted today. It wasn’t kind of me and you deserve far better than that. I understand if you have no interest in changing your advisor. Please know that whatever you decide, your TA position will not be in danger, should you choose to continue working with me.

Thank you for all of your hard work. You’ve been doing an excellent job and I’ve very much enjoyed having you this semester. Have a good weekend.

x Harry Styles

. . .

On Monday, Y/N’s mind is whirring. 

It’s not because the semester is nearing midterm season, although that’s part of it. It’s because Professor Styles emailed her an apology at almost 10 pm on Friday evening, and she’s repeatedly read it over at least 50 times since receiving it. 

She didn’t reply because she wasn’t sure what to say — and, most shockingly, he didn’t sign it as Professor Styles. Instead, he ended the message with a kiss, for crying out loud, followed by his name. His name! 

It’s all she’s been able to focus on for days, to the point where she contemplates not showing up to his lecture on Monday. But she’s better than that — she’s stronger, and she’s smarter, and she doesn’t want to hide. 

She avoids Professor Styles’ gaze all throughout his lecture, instead focusing on grading first drafts for the class’ midterm paper. She knows she’ll have to sit with him in his office afterwards, and her stomach churns at the thought. In some way, she feels ashamed that she said anything to begin with. Her comments about him not managing TAs properly have made her shrivel into a mortified version of herself, and she’s shocked he didn’t fire her on the spot. 

Worst of all, she hates the way her heart jumped into her throat when his name popped up on her screen on Friday night. She craved the feeling, hoping he would, for some reason, do it again, even though she never responded. She wasn’t playing hard to get by any means, but the fact that her brain even veered in that direction proved one thing to be true: she has a big, fat crush on Professor Styles.

The knowledge sits like a rock in her stomach, especially as they walk in silence to his office after class. The air between them feels awkward, but she’s not sure that there’s ever been a time where it hasn’t felt odd between them. When he unlocks the door, she quietly steps inside, her heart skipping a beat at the space heater and lamp already turned on. 

Usually, he keeps the door open while they work. Today, he shuts it, the soft click of the lock making her jump. 

“Can we talk?”

Y/N’s throat dries but she nods, gripping the strap of her tote bag close to her arm. She turns to face him, and for the first time ever, she notices that he looks… nervous.

“About last week. I’m sorry, but I’m even more sorry for emailing you that on Friday,” he rushes the words out like he wrote a script out and was waiting to perform them, “It was completely inappropriate, and I got the hint when you didn’t reply.”

“The hint?” she peeps out, her voice squeaky and embarrassing. 

“Yeah,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest, “About not wanting me to advise you and… you probably found my email to be weird, right?”

Quickly, she shakes her head. “No, no. I.. I actually haven’t given much thought to the advisor thing, but I didn’t think it was weird. I just didn’t know how to respond.”

His eyebrows furrow, “Why’s that?”

“Because I felt guilty about what I said to begin with! A-and you could’ve fired me if you wanted to, but instead you apologized and said that I’m doing a good job—”

“You are.”

“Exactly!” she exclaims frustratedly. “I didn’t know how to respond to that.”

“To me being… kind?”

“Yes.”

He blinks at her, the crinkle between his brows deepening. 

“I’m just not used to it, Professor Styles.” she says with a sigh.

“Harry,” he corrects.

“What?”

“My name is Harry. I don’t want you to call me Professor Styles.”

Y/N ignores the quickening of her heartbeat and shifts her stance from foot to foot. 

“Why are you doing this?” she eventually blurts as she crosses her arms over her sweater-clad form. She’s not sure if she detects an inkling of pity in his face, but if she does, she wants nothing more than to run for the hills and never return. For some reason, the thought of Professor— Harry feeling bad for her makes her shoulders shudder, a prickly sensation tip-toeing down her spine, as if shame is completely and utterly eating her alive. 

His lips part in a quiet sigh. “I just… I spent the weekend thinking of you and feeling awful for the way I’ve treated you.”

Thinking of you.

I spent the weekend thinking of you.

Her stomach turns as his words echo throughout the chambers of her brain. But then there’s a click — like the second part of the sentence just ekes its way through, planting a seed of self-doubt and insecurity. And she backs away like he may explode at any moment. 

“You shouldn’t— no, that’s alright,” she shakes her head, gaze set low on the carpeted floors of his tiny office. 

“Y/N—”

Again, she cuts him off with a shake of her head, raising her eyes to look at him. His expression is pained and she wonders if hers is any better, though she assumes for different reasons: He doesn’t want to get fired for torturing another grad student. She has an inappropriate crush on the professor she works for.

“It’s all good. Call it even?” she rushes out, leaning over to grab her things from her chair, “Fresh start on Wednesday. Don’t mention it again, alright?”

She’s gone before he can stop her. 

. . .

Harry accidentally falls asleep in his office that evening. 

It’s half because he’s absolutely swamped with work, too fearful to email Y/N and add things to her grading pile after the way she all but ran away earlier today. He’s terrified he made her uncomfortable. 

He doesn’t want to return to the quiet loneliness of his apartment, where he’s constantly faced to force the reality of his life: A man in his early 30s with a job that he likes, but no one actually likes him at it. His entire family resides in London and with the exception of a few friends from his schooling years, he’s alone. Especially in the romance department.

His heart aches for Y/N. He realizes it’s a bit dramatic, even slightly taboo given the nature of their professional relationship, but he likes her. He likes her so much that he doesn’t want to go home and think about how badly he messed things up, so he falls asleep face-down on his desk, his cranium wedged between piles of pens and a Post-It list of to-do’s. 

When he wakes up, he doesn’t know how long he’s been asleep for. The soft, golden light from the lamp is still just barely bathing the circumference of the room, but as he blinks his eyes open, he realizes that it’s silent. He can see through the small frosted window that the hallways are dim, which means it’s most definitely sometime in the evening. 

He feels… somewhat guilty but charged as he wakes from the fog of his sleep, eyebrows furrowing as he stretches his arms out. His neck already aches from the discomfort of his sleeping position and he groans, lifting a palm to sort the knot out. 

And that’s when he realizes it — why he feels as if his body is buzzing, his hands sweaty and his throat dry. He’d woken up in the middle of a sex dream and, like a pathetic teenager, the star of it had been his crush. Y/N. 

He scoffs to himself as he glances down at his crotch where, sure enough, his length is painfully hard beneath the constriction of his trousers and underwear. He swallows, eyes flickering closed. He can remember the exact details of his dream, even if they send a bead of guilt dripping down his chest — they’d been in his office, just like this. She was between his legs, knees pressing into the carpet of the floor, her eyes rounded and expectant as he toyed with her, pretending to guide his cock between her lips only to take it away at the last minute. She pouted every time, a plushy lipped-frown punctuating the words he hadn’t even realized he’d been dying to hear: “Please Professor Styles, stop teasing me.”

At the realization, he’s sent into a frenzy. He doesn’t even think to check whether the door is locked (or maybe if he’s locked in the building, no less), before he’s clawing at his belt and zipper, yanking the fabrics down to reveal a pair of swollen balls. His length stands hard, his eyes nearly rolling back just from the feeling of looping his fingers around the base. He can’t remember the last time he was this pent up just from his own imagination, but it’s not a difficult place to return — not as his head leans back against his office chair, allowing his dream to pick up and take form in full consciousness. 

So much pre-cum is bubbling at the tip that he doesn’t need much of his own spit to lubricate himself. He bites his lip hard to prevent himself from groaning out too loudly, envisioning the way she’d finally suckle around the tip of his cock, looking up at him with proud eyes. He’d gradually help her go deeper, but she’d be excited, willing to bruise her throat for him. She was so good — in his dreams, in real life, she was always so, so good.

“So good, Professor,” she’d pant out, popping off to lick a stripe up the side of his cock. With spit-swollen lips, she’d venture down to his balls, rolling them in the palm of her hands before taking each one into her mouth. In reality, he gasps at that, tugging them in his own hand. 

But what really gets him there is an impossible thought — one that has nothing to do with the silly wet dream his brain conjured while he slept. Her in her own bedroom, her naked form wrapped up in her sheets while he gazed over lovingly, pressing soft kisses along her shoulder and down her arm. She’d giggle breathily before flipping onto her side to face him. And she’d say it — I love you — and it’d feel like heaven. 

That’s what pushes him to finish all over his hand, cum dribbling over his fist as he pants and gasps like he’s just discovered masturbation. His orgasm encompasses his entire body, a few beautiful, peaceful moments of complete pleasure that causes all of his muscles to tighten deliciously. Of course, he envisions her taking all of his cum, licking it up eagerly over his digits, making a show of it — she’d open her mouth, pretty pink tongue out, and he’d watch as she swallows. He shudders at the thought of it, quickly snapping his eyes open and grabbing a tissue from the box on his desk to clean himself up. He’s immediately back to his grumbly state as he does, irritated that he allowed himself to lose control in such a finite way.

He tosses the dirty tissue in the garbage can and stands up to tug his briefs and pants back up. The clink of his belt buckle is the only sound throughout the small room, so he jumps when a knock sounds on the other side of his closed door. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck, someone knows, I must have said her name, I’m such a fucking freak—

His eyes widen when the person speaks: “Profess— Harry? Are you in there? It’s Y/N.”

[art]

Creator Spotlight: @jdebbiel

Deb JJ Lee is a non-binary Korean artist based in Brooklyn, NY. They have appeared in the New Yorker, New York Times, NPR, Google, Radiolab, and more. Their award-winning graphic memoir, IN LIMBO, about mental illness and difficult relationships with trauma, released in March 2023 from First Second.

Below is our interview with Deb!

Have you ever had an art block? If so, how did you overcome it?

That implies I am over my art block, but I’m still in it! I think about Kiki’s Delivery Service a lot and how she had to stop doing a thing, and that you can’t really force it, and you have to let it come back to you. It’s a pretty humbling moment, realizing there is more to life than just drawing. I’ve been trying to consume other content like reading or watching movies—anything that is not drawing-related—and to trust that it will come back to me. I think not being afraid to do the small pieces before committing to the big pieces is helpful. Because big pieces are what I am known for, I dig myself into a deeper hole, thinking that each piece has to be bigger than the last one. So yeah! Relaxing and doing the small things before overcommitting to a big piece is the best way to go about it for me.

Which 3 famous artists (dead or alive) would you invite to your dinner party?

I feel like these are all artists that I have second-degree connections with! Jillian Tamaki, Victo Ngai, and Tillie Walden would be my picks!

What are your file name conventions?

…What file name conventions? I mean, I don’t have specific file name conventions, but I actually have a public Google Drive archive! But I usually put “djjl_whatever-the-title-is_final,” and I would always know it’s the final and legit version.

What is a recent creative project that you are proud of?

I did an illustration for the whiskey brand Johnnie Walker. It’s so wild because I only had four days to finish it, and it usually takes me a week and a half if I rush. And honestly, it’s probably one of my best pieces from this year, which is funny. It was for the Mid-Autumn festival, so I made it as Korean as possible.

How has technology changed the way you approach your work?

I only use my iPad to draw everything now, and if I want to pretend that I have a steady workstation, I’ll use my Cintiq. I still am not as comfortable on the Cintiq as I am on Procreate, but it’s still pretty solid and nice. That’s the good part about technology. The bad part about technology is how AI art has been messing things up for me. I’m currently in a lawsuit about AI art as a class rep. Some of my stuff got turned into AI art late last year, so I have to give a deposition at some point. 

What is a convention experience that has stuck with you?

Honestly, they’re all good! I feel like Lightbox Expo has been really nice because it’s truly been a convention for artists. I feel like that’s where most of my audience is, and they’re all around because their purpose is to be better at art. That’s where a lot of original artists do well because they’re getting art they’re inspired by, not so much fanart. I like the Lightbox Expo because it encompasses the pure love of art very well. 

Top tips on setting up an Artist Alley booth?

Use a Y axis, not just your X axis! Take advantage of it! Branding is also something to think about. It is definitely something I’m getting better at. Having an assistant is also very important. I’ve also heard that 8.5x11 to 12x18 inches is usually a good size for prints, but I also provide postcard-sized prints because sometimes people don’t want to commit to a larger size. 

Who on Tumblr inspires you and why?

You know this is so funny. I’ve been following @alicexz for over a decade on Tumblr and other platforms. I’ve followed her work since high school, and we’ve only recently become peers. I found her, and we met for the first time in real life, and she recognized me. And then I found all my drawings from when I was in my Alice phase, back in high school, and I was like, “Yo, this is when I was trying to be you so badly!” and she was cracking up and was like “Wow, this is so good!” It was such a sweet moment. I wanted to take a picture of her holding my drawing up. It’s really nice because now we’re peers.

Thank you so much for stopping by and sharing, Deb! Be sure to check out their Tumblr blog over at @jdebbiel.

[chrysanthemumgames]

Chapter Ten and the Epilogue are out!

Hey everyone!

This announcement is basically just what it says on the tin. You can now play the last part of the game. Here's the link if you don't have it handy.

I don't think there are any particular content warnings for this one other than Zeus existing, but my brain is kind of scrambled eggs right now, so if I've forgotten something, please let me know.

I feel like I should have some thoughts here about actually being finished with the game, but either because of the brain-eggs thing or because I still have a lot of editing to do, it's hard to think of myself as done.

Just a few things I've been getting questions about clarified in one place:

FoA's first draft will remain where it is, as it is, complete and free, until I submit the edited version for publication. I estimate this will be about three months, (so until March 1, 2024), but can't say that for sure.

The second draft will bring about substantive changes both from a game design standpoint (various systems) and a character standpoint (some pacing things are going to change, particularly with the romances that probably should be a little bit faster paced than they are. A smidge.)

I may or may not be doing a closed beta test for the second draft. That's not me being coy, that's me genuinely not knowing if I will.

There will be one sequel. I will begin working on it immediately after FoA is submitted for publication.

If you want to follow the editing process, I will probably be summarizing my progress monthly here, but I will be going into much more detail and previewing the edits on my Patreon. No pressure ever; that's just an option if you'd like to see more or support me as I go.

Thank you, everyone, for your support, critiques, and suggestions. They've already made FoA a much better game than it would have been without you, and I'm looking forward to getting the chance to take more of them on board as I move through this next part of things.

I hope you enjoy.

[writersblockiskillingme]

Coriolanus snow x fem!reader

She is sejanus’s twin sister and is just as anti hunger games as he is and Coriolanus always has a crush on her but since she is his best friends sister…😏

The Plinth Prize | Coriolanus Snow

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x fem!Plinth!reader, Sejanus Plinth x twin sister!reader

Summary: You were everything he detested, perhaps that's what made him fall.

Warning/s: fluff, Coriolanus having some possessive thoughts, him actually liking Sejanus in this, possible grammar and spelling mistakes

Author's note: This one is really short, but I do believe that it's sweet enough. This for sure is not my best work, but I tried.

The Plinth family.

Truly everything had changed once Strabo, Sejanus, his twin sister (Y/N) and Mrs. Plinth who called "Ma" known as the Plinth family arrived in the Capitol. Well, more like bought your way to the Capitol.

Coriolanus Snow knew that anybody in their right mind would know that they bought their way in the Capitol because he knew that you really have to have a lot, and I mean A LOT, of money to come and live from the District 2 in the Capitol and give your two children an opportunity to attend to the Capitol's Academy of all places.

So Coriolanus must admit to himself, at first he was sceptic as hell. They were from District after all. They had no place here.

But he should've known better than to judge a book by its cover.

The Plinth twins were really something else.

The moment he met Sejanus he thought that he was annoying as hell. However, he soon realized that Sejanus kind of grew on him.

He was a kid with a kind heart, there was no denying that. He was stubborn, too. But most of all, he was so against the government's decision to hold the Hunger Games and that would annoy the hell out of Coriolanus because Sejanus had a bad tendency to speak of it out loud, with no filter, and that would often get him in a bit trouble.

The trouble that Coriolanus would often have to help him get out of. Coriolanus didn't really mind it, Sejanus was like his brother after all, but he just wished that he would stop being so reckless.

Coriolanus truly felt like he could have a heart attack, cold sweat consumed him, every single time Sejanus spoke. It honestly left him feeling anxious.

He just wished for that to stop, and once he met you it was anything but.

The moment you two shook hands after Sejanus introduced Coriolanus to his twin sister, you, he felt like the last breath was knocked out of his lungs. His chest tightened as he looked at you.

You were radiant. He thought that your beauty was unmatched. The way you carried yourself, your hair, your piercing eyes that were the exact copy of your brother, your smile, your everything, it was just perfect for him.

You were perfect for him.

From that day on he couldn't stop thinking about you and one day in class was an opportunity for him to see even more of you.

As Dr. Gaul talked about the genius of the Hunger Games, Sejanus and you snapped.

In a way he was surprised (but than again, not really) as he watched your interaction and realized that you were as much anti-games as Sejanus was.

Great.

Just great.

Now he had to look out after one more wild Plinth child. Not that he minded. He knew it shouldn't be that way, but this personality trait made you even more attractive than he thought it was possible.

As he watched you talk, his piercing blue eyes locked onto your figure watching you talk passionately, he realized that even though you're from District, that you were anti-games, and even though you were a Plinth of all people, he fell in love with you.

There was no denying that.

Perhaps, if he somehow couldn't win the Plinth Prize you would be good enough to keep, maybe even better. His, better, version of the Plinth Prize.

God, the Plinth twins are really going to ruin him.

->

->

->

TAGLIST:

@hellonheels-x @especiallythewomenandthechildren @prettyinsatiable @caroline-books @runningfrom2am @10ava01 @thecrowdedstreetin1944

[microscotch]

WISTERIA SKIN + PUPA EYES: A COMPLETE SET OF GENETICS

BOI that was an undertaking! but finally, and with lots of assistance from the wonderful @kestrelteens, this skin is completed. and it turned into an entire set of cohesive genetics, too! more info under the cut ⤵

essentially this is a mix of woohoo on the beach (aka ios those darn skins slightly edited) and various other components taken from @obscurus-sims, @lamatisse and @buglaur, (such as collarbones and ears), and some moles/freckles for the elder bodies i snuck from @episims, and @sixfootsims tongue + teeth texture. lips are a nod to maxis and a blend of so much stuff that i dont even remember it.😅 also tried to eliminate the smeared lipstick texture under the feet, and p much blended every seam i could find.

here's a swatch of the full range, which is more undertone rather than gradient based:

yay, first time doing supernaturals! 🌙 it was a lot of fun doing eye textures for them, here's the swatch:

NOTE: the zombie and vampire default come with an overlay mod! and the werewolf skins are correlated! please check out the hyperlinked instructions given by the respective creator ‼

also, i highly recommend downloading shasta's genie hair fix!

the eyes - squeas pupa eyes to be exact! come in 17 colors.

SO here are the downloads:

pupa eyes 👁 - custom / gen&town / defaults

wisteria skin 💗 - custom / gen&town / defaults / supernaturals / pngs for recolors + add ons :)

NOTE: these eyes are meant to go with the alien skin. 👽

dec 3rd update: EM chubby morph for shadowrealm has been fixed, feel free to redownload the non default version you're using!

for the database:

credit 🥰: serabiet, squea, obscurus, buglaur, themeasureofasim, sixfootsims, epi the phenomenal mod maker (and correlated werewolf skin maker!), withlovefromsimstown (plantsim textures), deedee(vamp cracks), platinumaspiration for more vamp cracks, veronavillequiltingbee (vamp overlay base), magical-girl-sandbox(bigfoot base), tvickiesims, lordcrumps, lamare & teaaddictyt for playtesting & feedback 💗

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~updates~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

dec 3rd-- EM chubby morph for shadowrealm has been fixed, feel free to redownload the non default version you're using!

january 13th-- i noticed that the s3 range for females is a little too highlighted in the chest area, to the point that clothing where the skin texture mapping is just off the *tiniest* bit makes it clip with the neck, which also applies to a lot of ea meshes. i have toned down the shine and blended the neck down further for this range so that it looks better with differently mapped clothes :)

please redownload the natural defaults and/or non defaults. make sure to keep a backup of the previous version in case you end up not liking the changes ive made to this range!

[lxkeee]

TWO SIDES OF THE SAME COIN

-PART NINE

Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Seraphim Angel! Fem! Reader

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Genre: Angst (for now)

Warnings: family trauma/lore

Notes: TSOTSC finally reached 20k words, yippee!

PART ONE | PART EIGHT | PART TEN | NAVIGATION

Azrael looked at the female angel beside him, noticing the lovestruck expression on the girl's face. He looked at her with a deadpanned expression, lips pressed together in a thin line.

Azrael's deep black eyes followed her line of sight, landing on a light blond haired short male angel with rosy spots on his cheeks, Lucifer. Azrael grimaced, watching as Lucifer talked with Michael, Lucifer's twin brother.

Azrael can hear a satisfied sigh left [Y/n]'s lips, Azrael still doesn't know why the girl is so lovestruck with the guy. Lucifer's curiosity is a looming threat, everyone in the high council of angels can feel it but they can't do anything about it as the said angel hasn't done anything yet.

Azrael sighs, grabbing the cloud pillow off the couch so he could sit beside her, the cushioned seat sinking as he sat down. He nudges her, catching her attention.

“I still don't understand what you see on that guy.” he deadpans at her and [Y/n] rolls her eyes at the taller male.

“Do you want me to take out my 50 slide presentation again on why I like him so much?” [Y/n] asked with a raised eyebrow and Azrael flinched, raising his hands in defeat.

“No, thank you.” He mumbled, shuddering as he remembers the time she presented those slides to him, which he still didn't understand why she liked the boy so much. He was zoned out during all of the presentation.

Azrael sighs, chest heavy and tight. He doesn't understand why. The thought of his best friend getting married to someone else hurt for some reason.

“Make sure you won't regret it, you're getting married to him soon.” He deadpans and [Y/n] just laughed, “I won't. He won't do anything to hurt me.” she said confidently.

Azrael rolls his eyes playfully, “You seem confident with that statement.”

[Y/n] scoffs playfully, “Because I know him.”

“Do you really know him?” Azrael retorts back, raising an eyebrow at her. [Y/n] flinches slightly, Azrael is right. She's still 25 years old and so is Lucifer, they're both very young. They still have lots to learn about each other.

It doesn't matter, Lucifer loves her and she loves him back. They have an entire eternity to know each other.

With a long exhale, she turned to look at Azrael, “Maybe I may not know him entirely but I will be able to.”

Azrael just sighs, shaking his head, “Whatever you say [n/n], but if he does something... Don't tell me I didn't tell you so.” he chuckled and [Y/n] rolls her eyes playfully at him, nudging Azrael playfully.

“Hey, I know him. He's my best friend and we've known each other the moment we existed.”

Azrael scoffs playfully at her words, “Who knows? People change.” he says, crossing his arms over his chest. [Y/n] avoided his gaze and turned to look back at Lucifer who seems to notice her.

Lucifer gave her a wink and a charming smile, sending her a kiss to her way causing for her to blush and giggle.

Azrael rolled his eyes at the scene.

“They do and I hope he changes to become a better version of himself.”

After getting married to Lucifer, life felt good. Lucifer treated her so well, bringing her flowers everyday, giving her affections in every chance he gets.

Everything was fine until God created the first ever humans, [Y/n] knows how much of a curious man Lucifer is, naturally, he went out to observe them.

It created cracks in their relationship.

Lucifer began to go home later than usual, occasionally forgetting to give her affections.

And their topics—his topics have now shifted to God's newly created creature, a woman named Lilith.

[Y/n] had to endure the pain and heartache as she listens to her husband talk so fondly about the woman, complimenting Lilith in every possible chance he gets.

But nevertheless, [Y/n] remained to have confidence in him. Choosing to trust him, he is her husband after all. They've been together for many eons, she knows him.

Does she?

No, she doesn't.

Especially on what she's currently witnessing, [Y/n] hid between a large tree in the garden of Eden. She had the urge to check up on Lucifer, her instinct was screaming for her to do so.

Her nails are buried in the bark of the tree, ichor flows out of her fingertips as she tries to prevent a sob from escaping her lips. The wooden sensation of the wood against her fingertips, the stinging pain of the scratched skin of the tips of her fingers is what she felt.

With the additional sensation of the aching feeling that came from where her heart lies.

Warmth slid down her cheeks, bringing her gold covered fingertips to feel her skin.

Tears, the tears never seem to stop running down her beautiful yet sorrowful face.

Her eyes locked on to her husband, Lucifer—who looked at Lilith with so much affection in his eyes as he held the woman's hand.

‘Why... Why is he looking at her like how he used to look at me...?’

[Y/n] asked herself repeatedly in her mind. Each word got louder and louder on her mind, and each time she did, pain became more apparent to her internal voice as she asked herself in anguish.

‘Move... I need to leave... Move [Y/n]!’ she cried to herself, her mind screaming for her to leave. To save herself from even more heartbreak.

Yet, she remained still. Eyes fixed on the two.

Her hands slapped over her mouth to prevent sobs from escaping her plump and soft lips, eyelashes fluttering and glistening with tears. Warm sunlight filtering through the strands of her eyelashes, making the redness around her eyes more prominent.

Dull [e/c] eyes blankly staring at the two—her husband and a different woman.

Despite its dullness, her eyes were filled with anguish.

Tired, dull, and swollen.

No longer bright, hopeful, and happy. It's now filled with sorrow, and unimaginable heartache. Something an angel like her shouldn't feel. Yet, Lucifer Morningstar made that possible.

[Y/n] watches as her husband caresses Lilith's face, so affectionately.

Something she didn't experience from him lately.

“You're so beautiful.”

She heard him mutter to Lilith with a voice that carried so much emotion, it was enough to shatter her heart to tiny million pieces.

Finally gathering enough strength, she finally released herself from where she stood. Finally allowing herself to move, flying away swiftly and discreetly.

A single feather was what was left of where she once stood.

She arrived at her shared home with Lucifer, quickly locking herself inside their bedroom.

Her body slouches against the door as she slowly slides down to the floor.

Painful sobs left her lips, shoulders shaking as she buried her face into her hands.

‘No, no, no, no, no... I must be seeing things... Lucifer can't just fall in love with someone that easy...’ she laughs to herself, voice cracking and trembling as she did so.

Shaking her head as she desperately tries to make herself believe her own words.

“This must be a misunderstanding, that's right... I'll ask him when... When he comes back...”

She says to herself, voice lowering to almost a whisper.

‘That is... If he comes home...’

She thought sadly, supporting her shoulder on to her knees, burying her face into her arms. Strands of her hair falling off to the side of her face,  framing the heartbreaking picture of the face that belongs to a heartbroken angel.

‘He can't just... Leave me like that... He can't just break our vows.’

She thought to herself, her hands rubbing her sides for comfort.

She only has herself to comfort herself, her husband isn't here after all.

“When he comes back, the two of us will have a proper and mature conversation... I hope.” she says to herself weakly, picking herself up from the floor. Knees tremble from the weight of her emotions, chest filled with pain and heartache. She can barely breathe, she wonders if she was still breathing.

She felt like a walking corpse.

Wiping her eyes with the sleeves of her dress, the soft material of her dress providing comfort to her swollen and aching eyes.

She dragged herself across the room, finally approaching the full length mirror just by their closet.

She can see how much of a mess she is. Eye bags underneath her eyes, tear streaks evident on her cheeks, her hair a mess. Pale skin and chapped lips from severe dehydration from how much she cried.

‘Is that me...?’ She asked herself, finally processing what she's seeing, finally coming to the realization that the figure in the mirror is her own reflection.

She can barely recognize herself, she doesn't look like that. She doesn't remember looking so tired and so... Sad and pathetic.

‘This wouldn't do, I don't want Lucifer to see me like this..’ she thought to herself sadly, the face of Lilith flashing in her mind.

Lilith, the first ever human woman. Of course, someone as beautiful as her would be someone Lucifer would fancy.

[Y/n] couldn't help but compare herself to the woman. Lilith has bright and blemish pale skin, hers were a sickly kind of pale.

Lilith has bright and hopeful eyes, hers are dull and sad.

Lilith has a beautiful and blemish free face, hers are tired and dark bags are underneath her eyes.

[Y/n] shakes her head, getting rid of the negative thoughts that filled her mind.

“Stop that, Lucifer loved you just the way you are.” she says to herself, yet doubt was evident in her voice.

‘Loved. That's right, he probably doesn't love me anymore.’

She shakes her head once more, ‘Stop that, he hasn't told us that yet... So I shouldn't say something like that...’

‘I'll just clean myself first, make myself presentable. In case he ever comes home.’

She says to herself, dragging herself to the bathroom to freshen up.

He never came home that day.

She lies on their shared bed, coming to that realization as the clock finally hit one in the morning. The bed was cold and lonely, the warmth that was usually beside her isn't present.

Closing her eyes, allowing the tears to glide down her pale cheeks, the tears staining the pillowcase of her pillow.

Past memories flash on her mind, memories of where Lucifer and her were still happy and in love.

“You are my best friend, the love of my life... I am so lucky to be called yours.” Lucifer says to her, kissing her forehead.

They were still teens in love, young and stupid but in love.

“You are so cheesy, stop saying cheesy things you're making me flustered.” she giggles as he twirls her around, bits of the clouds around them fluttering due to their movements.

Lucifer giggles, dipping her effortlessly and presses his forehead against his, “But it's my job to make you flustered, darling.”

She giggles, pink dusting her cheeks, “I love you, Lucifer.”

“I love you too, darling.”

She cried herself to sleep that night.

She sat on the couch of their living room, the early sunlight filtering through the large windows of their home, giving their home some warmth. The warmth makes her forget the coldness of her skin and the numbness of her heart.

Her head whipped to the sound of the door being opened, lo and behold, her husband finally came home.

Her eyebrows furrowed, eye twitching. She was aching to snap at him but she took a deep breath and calmed herself down.

“Lucifer, where have you been?” she asked softly, voice cracking and trembling in each syllable.

Lucifer flinches, jumping slightly from surprise. He was surprised to hear his wife's voice. He didn't expect her to be awake so early in the morning.

He gave her a nervous smile, “Darling, why are you awake so early?” he asked, [Y/n] just continuously tapped her feet against the marble tiles.

“Enough of that, I know you have been spending time with that human.” she says softly and Lucifer's eyes widened, avoiding his wife's eyes because of guilt.

“It's part of my job, love—”

“Stop lying to me, Lucifer Morningstar.” she snaps, eyes glaring at him, “I didn't know telling her that she's beautiful is part of the job? Might I also include... Caressing her face? Was that part of the job? Tell me, Lucifer...”

“Are you tired of me...?” she asked softly, and Lucifer's eyes saddened.

“No, no, no... I can never be tired of you...” he says softly, he's unsure if he's lying to himself or not. But he desperately tries to believe that he's not tired of her. Yes, he still loves her... Right?

He doesn't know the answer to that.

“Then why...?! Why are you spending the majority of your time with her?!” she screamed, her voice filled with anguish as she grips her hair. She swore she ripped some strands but she's too much in pain to care.

Lucifer's eyes widened, surprised by her outburst.

“Because I'm trying to make her feel better because Adam hasn't been good to her and I hope you can find it in your heart to care for her just a little.” he says softly, remembering the things Lilith told him, how Adam was mean to her.

[Y/n]'s eye twitch, the nerve. Why would she care about her?

“Why would I care about her?!” she asked angrily, and Lucifer frowned, “Because I care about her.” he says honestly, annoyance evident in his voice.

“Morning, noon, and night I care about her, yet you cannot spare a single sympathy for her.”

[Y/n] was taken aback, the first time sensing such hostility from him. Her husband defending another woman when all she ever asked from him is his time, some time for her.

“I'm just asking why you're spending so much time with her! I am your wife, Lucifer... I need you too!” She exclaimed, her voice cracking in anguish, “You're barely home anymore and it's getting unbearably lonely in our house, I missed you so, so much... Please.. I need you.”

“For heaven's sake, [Y/n]... Lilith just existed and she's scared and confused and Adam is also not treating her right! She needs someone.” He sighs, blue eyes looking at tired [e/c] ones, he would've asked for her forgiveness for his tone, but he was blind with the sense of duty towards Lilith. He couldn't think straight. Neither of them can.

“So stop being selfish, I'll come back when you have cleared your head, okay...?” he says softly yet a tinge of sharpness in his voice, turning around to leave, his heels clicking against the marbled tiles in each step he took.

The sound of the door clicking as he closed it brought her back to reality.

Her legs gave out as she fell into the cold hard marble floor, kneeling like heaven's first ever sinner. Her sin? Falling in love with heaven's most beautiful angel.

Blinking, she tries to process what just happened.

She and Lucifer just had their very first fight, and she doesn't know how to process it.

‘Azrael was right, I really don't know him at all.’

She thought to herself sadly, wiping her tears with her wrist before a broken sob escaped her lips once more.

She was left alone crying to herself in an empty, cold, and lonely house.

Days passed by, both Lucifer and [Y/n] were ignoring each other, unsure how to approach the other.

[Y/n] remained unmoving in their bed, all alone and cold. It's been so long since she last took care of herself.

“I feel so tired and weak... Heaven's... I feel like I'm about to pass out.” she murmured weakly, turning around to look at the empty spot of her shared bed with Lucifer, to see the said man to be nowhere in sight. He hasn't been home for a few days now.

‘I am so tired... Maybe I should rest for a bit...’ she thought, her eyesight blurring from the lack of sleep, she kept waiting for Lucifer's return but the man was nowhere in sight.

She sighs sadly, her eyes drooping without notice.

She passed out.

She doesn't know how long she was asleep but the moment she woke up she was in Azrael's house, the man told her that she was asleep for days.

And also told her about the fall of both Lucifer and Lilith.

She still couldn't wrap her head around it, refusing to believe it.

Azrael sighs, taking a seat at the edge of the bed of where she was lying down.

“It's true, he and Lilith gave the apple to Eve... I'm afraid work is going to get much harder now that evil exists.” he spoke softly, eyes saddened as he looked at the downcast female.

He's wondering if this is the right time to tell her...

“And another thing... [Y/n]...?” he calls out softly to her, she looks at him with not a single light on her eyes.

“What is it...?”

“You're pregnant.” he says softly, [y/n]'s eyes widened.

“What...?”

[Y/n] gasped loudly as she sat up on the bed, her head whipping around to look at her surroundings.

She's back in her room, weren't she in hell before?

Her breathing was uneven, placing a hand over her chest to calm her fast beating heart.

‘Why now...? Why did the memory have to come back now...?’

Tears were cascading down her cheeks, pitiful sobs leaving her lips.

“Mom...?” a soft male voice calls out, the door to the room opening, the head of Xavier peeking through the small opening.

The boy's eyes widened when he saw his mother crying on her bed.

“MOM...?! ARE YOU ALRIGHT?! ARE YOU HURT SOMEWHERE?!” he asked, immediately rushing to his mother's side, kneeling beside the bed.

[Y/n] shakes her head slowly, “I'm alright, I just got a bad dream...” she admitted softly, small hiccups leaving her lips.

Xavier's [e/c] eyes softened, grabbing a clean handkerchief from his breast pocket that he hasn't used yet, using it to wipe his mother's tears away.

“Do you wanna talk about it...?” he asked softly, his hands gently dabbing the soft cloth on [y/n]'s face, making sure to dry her tear stricken face.

“A little bit...” she says softly, smiling gently towards her son. Her eyes saddened even more, Xavier really looked like Lucifer.

“That's alright, don't pressure yourself mom.” Xavier spoke softly, standing up so he could sit at the side of the bed, leaning down to give a kiss on his mother's forehead.

She nodded and took a deep breath, “I dreamt... About your father.” she says softly and avoids her son's eyes.

Xavier's eyes widened, his shoulders dropping but decided not to speak and allowed his mother to talk.

“I dreamt of the past, how happy me and him were used to and now... I don't even know anymore.” she laughs bitterly.

Xavier's hand clenched slightly before relaxing, “It's not your fault mom...”

“I know.”

Xavier sighs softly, “Mom...?” he calls out softly to her, [Y/n] hummed.

“I think we need to talk about him now, it's a long overdue topic.” he says softly to her and she flinches but sighs.

He's right, she's been avoiding this topic for so many eons. It's time to talk about it.

She sighs softly, “You're right... I think we should.” and Xavier smiled, proud of her. He always has been.

[Y/n] remained seated on her bed, thumbs playing with each other. Xavier has already left to do his usual routine around the house.

Their conversation about Lucifer has already ended, she told him everything about what happened. Told him why she loves him so much and what he did to hurt her.

She told him how she and Lucifer were together for how many years before marrying each other, she told him the things that he did that made her love him.

And she just can't let go of her feelings for someone that she loved for so many eons. It's not that easy.

Even after all these years, she can't forget.

[Y/n] sighs softly, her hair cascading down to her face, framing the shape of her face perfectly. She turned her head to the side to look at the window, she could see the large backyard forest-like garden.

Knock, knock, knock.

Her head whipped in the direction of the knock, she turned to look at the door to see Michael standing and leaning against the door frame lazily.

Her eyes widened ever so slightly, “Michael... What are you doing here??” she asked softly and Michael sighed as he entered the room and closed the door behind him.

“I came as I heard what happened, are you alright?” he asked worriedly, taking a seat at the edge of the bed. [Y/n] smiled and nodded, “Yes,I feel slightly a lot better now.”

Michael smiled though, his eyes still held a tinge of worry in them. He sighs, “[Y/n]... Do you want to stop this mission and let someone else do it?” he asked her softly and [Y/n]'s eyes widened.

“I am perfectly capable of doing this, Michael... Don't worry too much about me.” she says softly and Michael sighs once more.

“I'm just worried for you, everyone is.” he says sternly and [Y/n] frowns, “I know but I can assure you that I'm fine with doing this...”

Michael sighs once more, clearly already used to her stubbornness.

“If you say so,” he says softly before looking back at her once more, “—but if it's suddenly too much for you, don't hesitate to tell me okay?” he says sternly to her.

[Y/n] giggles softly, a small smile on her face, “Yes,I'll keep that in mind.”

Michael smiled and gave her a single nod, “You better.”

Michael's eyes widened, snapping his fingers as he seems to remember something, [Y/n] tilted her head at him, confused.

“I just remembered, Gabriel said she was gonna visit later.” he says deadpanning and [Y/n]'s lips tightened into a flat line, she gave Michael a deadpan, “Yay... I can't wait.” she says unenthusiastically.

Michael laughed softly and ruffled her hair, “I'm sure it wouldn't be too bad.”

“She's gonna lecture me again about how men are shit.” she says deadpanning at him as she remembers the times Gabriel kept on lecturing her about how Lucifer was just a man.

“That is so real, love that for her.” Michael says, nodding.

“Michael, you're a man.” [Y/n] says with a small smile while shaking her head with her eyes closed.

“Am I?”

[Y/n] turned to look at Michael... Who's now a woman now. She deadpanned at him, “Really?” She asked sarcastically with a small smile, Michael laughed out loud. His laughs reverberated around the room.

“I think I look gorgeous as one.” he says sassily, flipping his long blond hair behind his back.

[Y/n] giggled and Michael smiled, proud to make her happy.

“You're so silly, try wearing a maid dress next time.” she suggested playfully at him, giving him a wink.

“Don't push your luck.” he says deadpanning at her and she just laughs, holding her hands up in defeat, “Okay, okay... I won't.” she says in-between giggles.

He smiled and ruffled her hair, “Alright, alright... You seem to be feeling much better now,” he says standing up, giving her a small smile, “—I'll head out first, I still have some work that are needed to be finished.” he says with a long sigh.

[Y/n] giggles, “Alright then... Don't push yourself too much okay?” she says softly, her eyes looking at Michael with worry.

“I won't.” he says and she deadpans at him, “I know you're lying.”

“Shush.”

“I'll see you later, [N/n].” he says with a smile, [Y/n] smiled at him, “I'll see you later, Michael.”

“It's Michelle.” he says sassily once more, flipping his long blond hair dramatically making [Y/n] cackle, “Right... Michelle.. lmao.. I'll see you later, Michelle.” she says in-between snickers.

“Laterz girlfriend~” Michael says sassily as he left, transforming back to his male form as he did so.

[Y/n] was left alone in her room, but this time... She was laughing thanks to Michael.

© LXKE 2024; please do not steal, translate, or repost my works as your own.

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