#edit- i thought i posted this but think i just saved the draft

[summerlycoris]

Late Night, On A Couch.

Part of ggyweek 2024- nightmare. @ggyweek2024

Early Saturday morning, Vanessa, Freddy, and Gregory will be sneaking into the Pizzaplex.

It’s eleven-fifteen on Thursday night. Vanessa can’t sleep. And, from the noises she just heard from Gregory’s room, he can’t either.

What do you do when you can't get to sleep? Well, Vanessa watches old cartoon movies. Gregory joins in, as they try to avoid the issues scaring them.

Fic also under the cut. About 3800 words iirc.

It's been a massive change.

Over the course of one bittersweet night, Vanessa had gone from living by herself practically out of her car, to living with a talking bear head, and a fourteen-going-on-fifteen year old roommate.

And it was still a little hard to deal with, if she was being honest. Because she'd never exactly been what anyone could call a… maternal woman.

Luckily, Gregory hadn't really asked that of her. If he wanted fatherly advice- he seemed to ask Freddy for it. It wasn't that he hated her or anything. (anymore?) He was just an independent boy. They'd chat and joke around sometimes. About games or movies, or whatever was going on. They could plan together, about what to do regarding… their problem under the Pizzaplex.

It was the kind of plan that takes time. Something like that… they needed to get it right the first time. Because there wouldn't be a second chance to trap it if they failed.

But their hard work would (hopefully) be paying off soon. They had a plan that should be watertight, should work perfectly.

They'd be heading back to the Pizzaplex early Saturday morning. Around one am.

It was Thursday night. Around eleven fifteen pm.

And Vanessa was totally not on edge about it. Totally not awake after struggling to sleep not long ago. Totally not watching an old cartoon movie she remembered her Mom showing her.

…

She was watching it at a low volume, in the small living room of her new apartment. All snuggled up under a blanket she’d stolen from her bed. And leaning sideways against one of the cushions that she'd bought recently, to make the secondhand sofa feel more like theirs. It wasn't a cold night, by any means. She just wanted something around her. She had the volume nearly all the way down, and subtitles on, because it was late and the walls were thin. Because Gregory was asleep for school tomorrow. Because his room was right next to the living room.

… Because the walls were thin, she could hear the sharp gasp, the creaking of springs under him, and his quiet footsteps, before she saw him open his door and stick his head out.

“Hey kiddo. Sorry, did I wake you up?” She asked. He shook his head. Looking at him, while he looked down at the ground, she could see him shaking but trying to hide it.

She hadn’t known him for long, but she did know him. He was still… hesitant around her sometimes. The best way for her to describe what she’d noticed about him was he prefers to approach on his own terms. Which she understood- after a night of being chased by her (and her evil alter ego), it made sense to want some control back.

Besides- theyd been strangers not too long ago.

Because of this, she knew that asking him about it would probably just get an ‘I’m fine’ out of him, before he’d retreat back to his room.

So she didn't say anything, and focused her gaze back on the tv. Keeping an eye out for him with her peripheral vision.

After a bit, she could see him coming over to stand by the couch, and look at the tv. “What are you watching?” He asked.

“Just something I used to watch as a kid. Plenty of room, if you want to watch too.”

After a few seconds, she felt the couch shift a bit, and could see him up the other end. Sitting cross legged, watching intently. Like usual.

He would shiver occasionally. Which wasn’t usual. The night was too warm for that. She grabbed the longer edge of her blanket, and pushed it over, closer to him. After a few seconds, he took it, and pulled it over his lap.

The cartoon went on for a while, as they sat in silence. There was a song at the very end, about how ‘you are a princess, too.’ And then it rolled to credits. She could hear Gregory scoff at that line. And she had to stifle a giggle at his reaction.

Vanessa didn't want to get up. But she also didn't want to go to bed. It was quarter to twelve. But the credits ended, going back to the main menu. And the main menu of this release had a very short loop of music that drove her batty.

So she forced herself up from the couch, narrowly avoiding taking the blanket with her, and popped the dvd out of the player.

“Anything you'd like to request?” She asked him, looking back at him while she put the dvd away in the racks.

“I dunno, something a little less girly and saccharine?” He said, holding up his fingers to show what he meant by ‘a little’.

“Huh. I thought you liked sweet things.” She joked.

“There’s a difference between sweet and saccharine.” He said, before grinning and crossing his arms. “I guess you wouldn't understand, Princess Of Bad Taste.”

“Wow, okay. Rude much?” she jabbed back. “Keep that up, and I'll be the Princess Of Sending You Back To Bed.”

He fought back a laugh, and leant against a cushion, uncrossing his legs under the blanket. “That’s sad. You'll need a new title now. How about… Princess No Fun?”

Now she couldn't help grinning. “You're giving me a new title? Before you even have one of your own? How about, Prince Of Melting My Spatula While Cooking Last Week?”

He sat up properly. “Hey! I only left it in the pan for ten seconds! I don’t care what you say- it was not made of silicon.”

“Sure, buddy. It was totally the spatula’s fault that the omelets were ruined.”

He rolled his eyes, before pulling the blanket completely up over himself. Only his face and a little bit of hair was visible, in the strange little nest he had created for himself. “Geez, Can’t believe you’re doing this to me. Giving me grief about a spatula? After a nightmare? You’re the worst!” He grumbled.

That could've been a legit complaint, except that she knew him. If he was really angry at her, he would’ve cussed her out already and gone back to his room, slamming the door on the way through. He was just doing a bit.

She got the feeling he was messing around, to distract himself from something bigger. Or maybe she was just projecting.

Either way, she didn’t feel guilty about continuing the bit.

“Maybe I am the worst… or maybe, those are the words of some kid who can dish it, but can’t take it.”

His eyes were wide, and he didn't respond for a bit, before sticking his tongue out at her. “Yep! You really are the worst!”

She couldn't hold it back anymore. Even though it was late, and the walls were thin. She burst out laughing, and she could hear him groan and pull the blanket over his eyes, before mumbling “It’s not funny.”

Playtime was over. Maybe she was being too complacent?

She cut her laughter off. “Sorry, Gregory. I thought we were still goofing around.” she remembered what she’d originally been doing, and tried looking for a dvd that was neither ‘too girly’, or ‘too saccharine’. Which wasn't easy- most of these dvds were from when she was a little girl. And when she was little, she loved all that stuff.

While she was searching, Gregory spoke up. “We were, it's just- tonight hasn't been very good. And Freddy needs all the charge he can get. So I can't talk to him right now…” She knew why- they'd only just managed to build up a body for him, so he could help them with… their problem under the pizzaplex. “... Sorry for kinda ruining the mood. What movie are you thinking?”

“Hey, don't apologize. It’s all good. I’m a little tense too, to be honest.” She grabbed one. Possibly saccharine. Probably less girly. An old Rugrats Movie that her Mom had watched when she was little. And then shown to Vanessa when she was little. Maybe when she was three? She turned back to Gregory with it- seeing he now had his face out of the blanket again.

She showed it to him. “I've never seen that one before. What's it like?” He asked.

“It’s a pretty good movie. I can't remember much about it, but don’t worry- it shouldn't be too girly or anything.”

He tilted his head, but didn’t object.

So she put the dvd in. Letting it load, while she made her way back to the couch. She sat down and absentmindedly reached for where she’d left her side of the blanket… which was no longer there. Because of Gregory’s nest. He chuckled as she turned to him with her hands on her hips. “You gonna share my blanket with me at all?”

He put his arms outside his nest, and pulled the blankets closer to him. Almost possessively, with a cheeky grin on his face. “I dunno... finders keepers Nessa.”

She grabbed the nearby cushion and threw it at his head. He caught it easily.

“Sweet- an extra pillow! Thanks Ness!” he tucked it beside him, on top of the previous pillow, before laying on his side.

She rolled her eyes. “Consider it an early Christmas present- and don't expect anything else!” It was an empty threat, and she knew that Gregory knew it. Otherwise he would tell her off.

They probably would've kept chatting and making light, except the movie started. And it caught both of their attentions pretty fast.

Vanessa hadn’t remembered just how sad this one could get. She’d only partially remembered the hijinks, really.

So the scene where Chuckie didn't have a mom to dance with, really got to her. And she felt a little pathetic. For shivering. For wishing she had that blanket back. For holding herself tightly. For wishing she had her mom to talk to, right now. About everything that happened to her. About everything that could happen to her. About saturday- two days- no, one day away now-

I don’t want to die.

…

She was supposed to be an adult. So why was she feeling so childish?

She was jolted out of this trail of thought, by feeling a soft weight against her side. A warm weight, with a pulse and heartbeat she could feel against her. Gregory- now leaning against her, and trying to wrap the blanket around them both. He looked up, realizing she had started looking at him. “You looked cold. So…”

He looked so tired up close, with bags under his eyes. And honestly? A little miserable, too.

“... Is this scene getting to you too?” She asked.

He shrugged.

… He had never really talked about his parents with her before.

It was probably a touchy topic. Because if it wasn’t, he’d be living with them. Instead of with his previously possessed potential murderer.

She didn't know what to say. And she wasn't even sure what to do.

All she knew was that she could feel him shivering, too.

She wrapped an arm around his shoulders, drawing him in a little closer.

And for a second, she thought she had messed up- because he tensed up beside her.

Before she could move or apologize, he sighed and relaxed, closing his eyes.

“I like Freddys hugs more, but they’re not warm.” He whispered.

They were silent for a while.

What was there to say?

Gregory opened his eyes back up after a bit, and watched the movie again. So she did too. The clock ticked onward, until it was nearly twelve-thirty.

She could feel him shift slightly against her, and looked down at him. “I… I had a bad dream.” He whispered. Eyes wide, looking down at his lap. “It should've been a nice dream- my friends were all there. It was my birthday. I turned fifteen. Mom brought out a cake, and everyone cheered. Dad hugged me tight, then brought out presents-” he choked up, and couldn't finish the sentence.

…

They’d had his fifteenth birthday not too long ago. Her and Freddy had thrown it. There were no other guests. She and Gregory had worked together to make a (somewhat dodgy looking) Freddy face cake. And Freddy had suggested some presents to buy, while Gregory was out at school one day. He’d looked happy enough, at his little party. Had a smile on his face. But it hadn’t reached his eyes. She’d theorized on why, but now she knew it.

And he still couldn't say what he wanted to say.

“Hey, it's okay if you can't talk about it right now. We can try again in the morni-”

“No.” He shook his head, for emphasis. “I just. I just need to get the words off my tongue.” So she waited. And paused the movie- no one was watching it anymore. She didn't want to distract him.

It looked like he was trying not to cry. “Maybe you don't get them, but I've had these dreams before. Dreams where people I've… lost, are okay again. And everything’s great again! And they’re weird dreams- because I know they’re dreams. But it’s like I… choose to forget that? And that's when they become nightmares- Because when I wake up, for a moment I still think it’s real.” His voice cracked at the last bit. And she could see his eyes get shiny, with tears, before he turned to her, and buried his face into her shoulder.

She thought she knew him.

But the Gregory she knew wouldn’t cling to her and cry quietly against her shoulder. Because he was too independent for that.

Maybe she didn't know him as well as she thought.

She still had one arm wrapped around his shoulders. He looked like he needed a hug. A real one- not just a sideways one. So she shifted, until she was twisted enough to face him. And she held him tight, while they sat on the couch. She could feel the shoulder of her sleepshirt getting a little damp. She ran her fingers through his hair- her mom had done that for her, years ago. And she tried to sooth him. Not very well- she wasn't nearly as good at this as Freddy was.

“I think I get what you mean. I’ve had some dreams like that, too.” Dreams where she was doing something mundane with her mom and dad, who still loved each other… even household chores felt special in those dreams. “It's okay, it’s okay…”

He shook his head. “No, it’s really not.”

Pulling away from her, he wiped his eyes quickly with his sleeves. And looked up at her. With eyes that were trying to look determined.

He couldn't hide the fear in them.

“No matter what- no matter what- it won’t get me again? Right? Because I’m fast, and older, and I know it’s tricks now.”

… She got what he was really trying to ask.

You won’t let it get me again? Right? I won’t be it’s puppet again? Right? You won’t let me be him again? Right?!

…

She made a promise she desperately hoped she could keep.

“I promise it won’t get you again. Or me. We’re gonna trap it for good, so it can’t hurt anyone else. Just like we planned.”

She squeezed him tightly, and he practically melted into her hug. Sighing, and just thinking for a while.

She could slowly feel his heartbeat slow down, back to its normal pace. Could hear his breathing get a little easier. Could feel the wet patch on her shoulder slowly dry.

When she next checked the clock, it was nearly one am.

And when she turned back to him, he was looking up at her. She could practically see the gears turning in his brain.

As he loosened himself from the hug slightly. Staring up with big puppy dog eyes. “So, I did that thing Freddy tells me to do...”

Sometimes, she can hear Freddy telling Gregory that he needs to ‘Open up to people.’ and ‘Not bottle up your feelings, Superstar.’ Because the walls were thin, and Freddy couldn't be quiet if you paid him.

“... So you won’t send me to school tomorrow, right?”

Back to the usual Gregory, for the most part. Two can play at that game.

She hemmed and hummed over it, exaggerating it for the bit. “Well… I could keep you home… but then you might miss math! And english! And P.E! The wonderful class of physical education- isn’t it baseball season right now?” She sighed, and shook her head, while he groaned. “What kind of a guardian would I be if I let you miss out on such a fun day at school?”

He thought for a moment, a cheeky grin on his face. His eyes were still a bit red, but he was starting to feel a bit better, clearly. (She hoped.) “You’d be the best kind of guardian?”

“Really?” He nodded. “Because a little birdie told me earlier… that I was the worst!”

She quickly ruffled his hair, somehow making it look neater than it usually looked. In response he squeaked out a “Nessa!”, and tried to shake it back out.

“And another little birdie also told me… that I was Princess No Fun!” she jabbed him in the ribs with her fingers, making him squeal with laughter.

“Wha- what If I told you those birdies were liars?” he wheezed out after the giggle fit, clutching his ribs.

She pretended to be deep in thought about it. “Hmmm, well… if the little birdies were lying… I might consider it. But if they were lying… then what’s the truth?”

“The truth is… you’re the Princess Of Warm Hugs.” He whispered, before flushing red with embarrassment and stammering out- “Wait, that’s saccharine! I take it back! Umm- you’re the Princess Of Being A Pain!”

“Aww- see! I knew you could be sweet if you tried!” She joked. Holding him close again, as he tried to squirm away. “No take-backsies- I’m the Princess Of Warm Hugs now.”

“No you’re not-” He whined. And they probably would’ve continued- if an angry neighbor didn't slam something heavy against the nearby wall.

“Would you two shut up?! Some of us have work in the morning!” Their voice came through, loud and clear. Because it was late, and the walls were thin.

“Sorry! We will!” she said, fighting for her life not to burst out laughing. While Gregory flipped off the wall.

“... I’m gonna pretend I didn’t see that.” She whispered at him.

He just grinned. And whispered his original question- “So, can I have the day off tomorrow? Please?”

She kept him in suspense for a few seconds, before responding- “Okay. But only because you used the magic word.”

In response, he flipped her off. She flicked his ear. “Andddd, that’s your cue to go to bed, you little ratbag.” Because despite the cheeky grin, he had huge bags under his eyes. And because she felt exhausted- she wasn't going to be able to stay up much longer- which meant he needed to be in bed before she started turning off the lights.

She pushed him away from her, and towards his room, getting up from the couch to follow him. The blanket fell down to the floor, and they both barely avoided tripping on it. “Shoo! Scram! Get going! Before I change my mind about school!”

And he did shoo, scram, and get going. At least until he got to his bedroom door, snickering and grinning at her. He turned completely, and saluted her- “Ma’am, yes ma’am!” He opened up the door, while she rolled her eyes. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Princess Drill Instructor.” He whispered, before running off to bed, leaving the door open.

Like usual- well, except for the ‘drill instructor’ comment. She knew what to do now.

She stood in the doorway, and saw Gregory sitting in bed, pulling up the covers. Freddy was standing nearby. Still on charge- except now with his eyes open. He must’ve woken up, hearing Gregory go back to bed.

Freddy looked out the window through a gap in the curtain. “Hmm, Superstar. It is still very dark outside. Is everything okay?”

He turned, and looked over at Freddy. “Should be now, I think. Sorry for waking you up, Freddy.”

She could feel Freddy's eyes meet hers.

Now that she was here, it felt like she was intruding- this was usually Freddy’s job.

But she needed to know that he'd be okay overnight.

“Hey, you feeling a bit better now?” she asked Gregory.

He turned back to her and nodded, before continuing. “But if I’m not, can I come wake you up?”

“Yeah, of course. Though, it’ll probably be Fairytopia on next time. So be prepared for the most girly and saccharine thing you've ever seen.” she joked.

He rolled his eyes. “I’ll make sure to bring a bucket then.” he joked back, before laying down, facing Freddy.

”I’m going to start getting ready for bed- I'll see you in the morning, okay?” She said, turning off the light and grabbing his door.

She went to shut it, until he interrupted her- “Hey, Ness?”

“Yeah, kiddo?”

She could see him glance at her before looking away, in the light still coming through the open door. “... Thanks for listening. And being there.”

With the warmth she felt in her chest, it was almost like she was still hugging him. “You too, Gregory. Goodnight.”

She shut the door and backed away, hearing him saying “‘Night.” back to her. If she hadn't, she would've been there all night. And she couldn’t. She was too exhausted.

Instead, she went back to the couch. She needed to turn off the tv and dvd player, as well as grab her blanket off the floor. She’d need that, shortly.

With her blanket back, she turned off the living room light, the room now only illuminated by the crack of light through her bedroom door.

When she got back to bed, and snuggled into her pillow, she could hear faint and unintelligible words from Freddy. Because he couldn’t be quiet if you paid him. So they were chatting together.

But she couldn't hear crying, or the creak of springs. Even though it was late, and the walls were thin. She couldn't see his face peering in and asking if she was asleep yet.

So, they were probably just chatting.

She rolled onto her side, and held herself close. She was still scared, about how they’d go with their problem under the Pizzaplex.

But, she also felt braver about it too. She had to be braver- she had someone else counting on her.

And as she heard Freddy fall silent, she knew she could be brave.

She would be keeping that promise, if it was the last thing she did.

********

Authors note- Gregory’s just chilling in the Bad Opinion Zone in this fic lol. (Princess Promenade is great fight me.)

Also, Gregory’s right about the spatula lol. Melting point is WAY too high for a silicone utensil to melt. Vanessa just didn't realize she had a placcy one. (If she had, she would’ve felt ripped off.)

Didn’t manage to keep this under 3000 words, but did keep it under 4000- brevity won! Maybe? Whoo!

[evakant]

i know wei wuxian is first pick as god/personification of death etc. etc. (duh, perfect choice, so sexy) but i would like to propose jiang cheng for the part. in the same way elizabeth swann is death from that one post about her kisses damning the men she loves

in the way everything he touches and everything he loves seems to be doomed (sect, parents, sister, brother)

wei wuxian as life!!! as god of life!!! coming back, unkillable. life giving (core transfer, wen ning, etc.)*

jin ling doesn't die because at the end of the story, at the guanyin temple, wei wuxian is there too. to protect him the same way he protected jiang cheng

and this is why he (wei wuxian) has to go back to being yunmeng jiang's head disciple, in this essay i will—

*i'm not saying he lives well, but he lives! he fucking claws and crawls and fights his way out of the burial mounds, he just doesn't fucking quit** you know what i mean

**until he does, but that's a choice he makes.

[dawdlecentric]

As the world caves in

[charlie-but-not-slimecicle]

does anyone know if there‘s a tag limit

[jvzebel-x]

🦋

[writingstoraes]

lover 🪻

pairing: charles leclerc/fem!singer!reader

type: instagram imagine, social media au

notes: this is another thing i thought of knowing i have hundreds of unattended drafts lolol lmk what u think! this is like very similar to something i've posted before but only w a slightly different ending... hehe also am using mother taylor's lyrics cause they're just too good

about: you and charles seem to be really quiet, it's either one of two things — you're over or you're about to release a masterpiece that shatters all break up rumors.

wagsoff1

liked by wannabewag, norrisfan, hamilec, and 25,439 others

wagsoff1 It has been 100 days since Y/N was seen in the paddock. Her last appearance was during the 2023 Australian GP. Any thoughts? 👀

leclercsainz yeah honestly the two of them have been really quiet lately... i'm scared

ynfan this is such a reach? 😬

lecsyn4eva are we forgetting that y/n has her own career, a pretty successful one at that, it's normal for her to not be at races at times?

wagsoff1 Hmm yeah but she's missed a ton of races, apparently rumors are only ever growing that they might be over... lecsyn4eva maybe we stop sticking our noses where it doesn't belong 🤨

queenyn MOTHER WE MISS YOU pls come back

sainzstappen Classic pattern of broken up F1 couples lol miss a few races then suddenly statements are out 😆

popgirlstm stop i will literally jump off a bridge

yourusername

liked by zendaya, florencepugh, landonorris, and 2,340,923 others

yourusername At every table, I'll save you a seat.

My 3rd full-length album, Lover, is out tomorrow at 12 EST. Sorry for the surprise but see you at the premiere ❤️

lecsyn BITCH THIS IS WHY YOUVE BEEN QUIET

mothertay miss mam we havent heard from you in months how can you drop a bomb like this so casually

norrislaren IM CRYING I DID NOT SEE THIS COMING

midnightshouse y/n i need to know if i can shake my ass to this album or i will be destroying ice cream pints with tears on my face

ynalbums Judging from the title... it sounds like it's more on the romance side? gucciluv oh my god there's hope for charles and her after all 🙏

charles_leclerc

liked by pierregasly, carlossainz55, scuderiaferrari, and 1,295,294 others

charles_leclerc My lover.

Beyond excited for your album, amour. Thanks for letting me be a part of it 🤍

lecsyncharles CROWD CHEERS OH MY GOD

hamilstappen im crying they broke the streak they're alive! WAR IS OVER

charlierari part of it... y/n ft. charles????

carlossainz55 Hey this counts as your musical debut? 😆

charles_leclerc I didn't sing... carlossainz55 Yeah you shouldnt c2lovers FUCK??ABSHBHWWH

landonorris Can't believe people thought you broke up you literally won't shut up about how you're in Silverstone and she's in LA

pierregasly Don't forget the calling Y/N every 10 seconds charles_leclerc ??? Please shut up

Now Playing: Lover (Music Video) - The Dedication

charles_leclerc

liked by yourusername, landonorris, lorenzotl, and 2,109,294 others

charles_leclerc My forever lover.

tagged: yourusername

landonorris Will you save me a seat at every table?

yourusername Have my song memorized already, I see 😆 landonorris You know it!

lewishamilton Congratulations, Y/N and Charles! 🥂

danielricciardo I call taking most of the pictures 🙏

landonorris No???

ynlecs16 this is such a fucking surprise the two of you need to cool it down i'm hyperventilating

scuderiaferrari Best wishes to our favorite couple ❤️

yourusername Wait, I thought we broke up?

charles_leclerc Negative. You're stuck with me forever now 😘

---------

tagging: @slytherheign, @honethatty12, @siovhanroy

notes: taylor has got me wishing i was currently in love this is sick! anyway i only got this idea bc my tiktok fyp is swarmed with charles daylight edits and they are right he is so golden <33

[farfromstrange]

Mismatched Bridesmaid | Matt Murdock x F!Reader

PART 2 of The Vault

See this post for more information on my Valentine's Day Special & Follower Celebration, but these fics can be read separately!

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Summary: Deciding to go to your old college roommate's wedding turns into a bad idea when you suddenly have to function as a bridesmaid until you're paired with a very handsome groomsman.

Warnings: Fluff, attempt at humor, SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI), oral f!receiving, use of "good girl", One-Night Stand, shameless flirting, kind of "horny at first sight", so cheesy it might make you hate cheese

Word Count: 4.3k

A/n: I was wondering why this didn't post until I saw that I hit "save draft" instead of schedule, so this may come on time for some and too late for others, but I'm still awake, so it counts as the 15th. Also, when I wrote this it was after hinting at it on here, and I was excited at first, but I'm not too happy with it now because it's just silly and falls a little flat, in my opinion. This is why I went back in and edited a hell of a lot, adding some things, etc. Nevertheless, I promised to clear out the vault for this event, so this is it. I got inspired by seeing the She-Hulk clips when the episode with Matty came out. It may or may not be noticeable. We're also working with the Nelson, Murdock & Page narrative. Enjoy!

You are not made for white-veil occasions. 

While weddings, in their essence, symbolize unity while covering different facets of romantic beauty, they are also inherently stressful for nearly everyone involved in the proceedings. Over the years of adulthood, you’ve found that weddings tend to end in disaster when you attend—and you are not particularly fond of engaging in drama.

When your old college roommate sent you an invitation to her wedding in June, you considered responding with no. You’ve been close for a few years, but then you graduated, found separate careers, and then never talked again. You weren’t sure why she would send you an invitation until you called the number on the back of the card and you began catching up. She told you that she wanted to invite you because you were a vital part of her early twenties, and it reminded you that you are both adults and you have both grown beyond what you thought possible, so you couldn’t find it in yourself to tell her that you couldn’t make it to her wedding. Instead, you told her that you wouldn’t miss it for the world. That answer though seemed to have turned destiny against you. 

You were excited when you arrived at the chapel this morning, but as soon as your foot touched the holy ground, everything went wrong. Maybe it is because you’re an atheist and God hates you, or maybe Karma just really fucking loves toying with you. Either way, when your friend’s maid of honor—also one of the few people you hung out with during your wild college days—came up to you, looking pale and panicked, you knew that the curse you always bring to weddings was only continuing to wreak havoc. 

She said to you, “One of the girls got into a car accident on her way here. Don’t worry, she’s not dead, just a broken wrist, but that means we are one bridesmaid short. I need someone to step in before Janet finds out and cuts off my head for ruining her wedding day,” and she was deadly serious about it, too.

You knew that it was a mistake to come to this wedding, especially without a date or a plus-one to fall back on. 

You were so focused on marveling at the beautiful white and golden decorations living the aisle, fantasizing about the day you might be walking down one of those that you didn’t think anything could go wrong since everything had been going so right. You should have known better than to trust that treacherous feeling of excitement that you made sure to nurture before breakfast so you could enjoy the ceremony and the party afterward without making it dependent on the open bar—although that fact did help.

Instead of dreaming about free drinks though, you’re being squeezed into a satin green dress with a low cut in the front, and someone you don’t know is slathering burgundy lipstick onto your lips. They are purposely trying to turn you into a copy of all the other bridesmaids, and you hate it. You hate it so much you get the sudden urge to scratch your eyes out and tear the skin off your lips. 

Janet, the maid of honor, comes back up to you. She’s aged at least ten years since you last saw her when she pulled you away from the aisle. You feel for her. The entire weight of this wedding rests on her shoulders. 

She eyes you, checking your outfit, before giving you a curt nod. “Thank God, you’re hot,” she mutters. You’re not sure if you were supposed to hear it. 

“Thank you?” you answer awkwardly. 

“Alright.” She fixes the corners of your lipstick. “We need to pair you with a different guy than Miss I-Don’t-Know-How-To-Drive was supposed to walk down the aisle with. Your looks don’t match. You’ll get Kathy’s partner,” she says. “And we need to line up, like, now because shit is happening in five minutes, not a second later. We can’t give Bridezilla the time to kill us all.”

With a frown, you ask, “Is she aware at all of what’s happening?” 

Janet shakes her head. “No, and it’s better this way. Trust me.”

You stop questioning her. She knows what she’s doing. 

When she guides you outside to line up, you’re not sure what to expect. You don’t know the groom, and you don’t know his friends. You’re here on your own, and now you’re part of a bridal party that you are also barely familiar with, wearing a dress that you were forced into for the sake of aesthetics. You hate when something is reduced to aesthetics because beauty has many facets, and you would have walked down that aisle with anyone as long as you could get it over with. 

Until you see him. Strikingly dark hair in a perfectly cut tuxedo that underlines the muscles hiding underneath the fabric. His eyes are hidden behind round, red glasses that reflect the sunlight coming in through the already stained glass of the chapel’s windows. In his hands, he’s holding a white cane, leaning his entire weight on it as he waits. And he waits for none other than you. 

Janet paired you with the most beautiful man on this planet, you can’t deny that. The way he stands there, his sharp jawline on full display—he looks ethereal. Just looking at him makes you sweat, and you’re starting to panic. What if she made a mistake? You can’t do this. You can’t—

“Matt,” she says and shoves you beside him into the line of bridesmaids and groomsmen. 

Janet introduces you, and then she’s gone. She pushes you into the cold water, forcing you to learn how to swim. 

He tilts his head in your direction. “Hi,” he says. The sound of his voice resembles the purr of a black cat as it reverberates, but his grin reminds you of the Devil himself. 

Fuck. Me. 

You either did something very wrong to land here, or you did everything right. 

“Hi,” you stammer. One look at him, and the blood rushes to your cheeks. Your face is burning. 

He offers you his hand. “I’m Matt,” he says as if Janet didn’t already expose that to you.

Still, you take his hand. It’s the polite thing to do. “And I’m not supposed to be here.” Mentally, you curse yourself for being so stupid.

Matt chuckles. Even his laugh sounds bittersweet. Like dark chocolate. “I, uh, gathered as much.”

“I’m sorry,” you bite your lip, “I’m not—this is really weird. I don’t even know what to say.” You pray for the ground to open up and swallow you whole, maybe that will make it less embarrassing.

His features soften. There is no judgment. You can’t see his eyes, but there is a certain softness about him that throws you off guard, but you no longer feel like you’re drowning. “If it helps, I’m only here because I helped the groom graduate law school by writing his essays, and he feels like he owes me, so…I also don’t want to be here,” he says, and he reaches up to adjust his glasses. You get a small glimpse of his eyes. They’re hazel. Beautiful. He has an aura that draws you in; it’s not just his physical beauty that strikes you.

This man—this magnetic force of a man called Matt—is a stranger. He’s a man you were paired with to walk down the aisle even though you were never meant to be a bridesmaid in this wedding in the first place. So many things are happening to and around you at once, and you can feel the flames starting to burn and sizzle away at your skin. 

You should pull yourself together. You shouldn’t stare at him. You shouldn’t listen to your heart which is hammering against your ribcage. But the emotions are already running high and you can’t possibly focus on anything else. He’s like a lifeline to you.

And God, you want him to put those calloused hands on your skin and take you to bed. But that’s not something to think about in a place of God. On the day of someone else’s wedding. Except that you can’t think of anyone else, and his proximity isn’t making the situation any better for you.

Another blush threatens to take over your features. “Oh, you’re a lawyer?” you ask.

“Yeah,” he says. “I have a firm. Nelson, Murdock & Page.”

“Here in New York?”

“Hell’s Kitchen, yeah. Me and my associates just reopened our doors to the public after a rough year.”

“Oh, that’s...cool. I’m happy for you.”

“Thank you. And what do you do, if I may ask?”

His interest takes you off guard, but you don’t hesitate to answer his question. You tell him your profession, and how you met the bride, and he listens without another word. No man has ever paid you this much attention before.

Though Janet meant it when she said that you will have to start walking in exactly five minutes, not a second longer. She passed by everyone, handing out bouquets. Green with hints of red and gold. It fits the theme. They’re beautiful, but the flowers within the bouquet become a problem when she hands you your own set. 

“Janet,” you stop her from leaving. “I can’t take these.”

“The fuck you can’t,” she retorts. 

“Seriously, I can’t. I’m allergic to Jasmines. I’ll sneeze.”

She glares at you. “Then fucking hold it.”

There is no arguing with her, and she passes by you to continue putting everyone in their places. You stare down at the bouquet, your nose already starting to itch. The smell alone is enough to make you nauseous.

To your surprise, Matt reaches for the flowers. “May I?” he asks, but he has already grabbed a hold of them.

“Sure,” you answer, curious about where he’s going with this.

“Hold this.” He guides the top of his cane into your hand.

His fingers feel along the red ribbon. He takes a whiff. There are so many scents that would be overwhelming even to someone without heightened senses due to a lacking fifth one, so you’re even more surprised when he finds the Jasmines without a struggle. He traces the petals just to make sure, and he quickly pulls the flowers out of the bouquet, tightening the ribbon around the now smaller girth in the process.

Tossing them behind one of the pillars in the corridor, he hands them back to you. “Here,” he murmurs. “For you.”

Words elude you. 

“Are you allergic to anything else?” The question is valid, considering you’re still not making a move to take the bouquet from him. 

You exhale a shaky breath, reaching for the flowers, and answer without missing another beat, “Weddings.”

That elicits a giggle from him. The sound is enough to make your heart melt. Does he know what he’s doing to you?

Matt opens his mouth to respond, but the sound of heels clicking against the marble floors stops you both dead in your tracks.

Your entire body recoils when the bride’s voice rings out, echoing, “Who the fuck mismatched my bridesmaids?”

A hand rests on your bicep, and you don’t even have to look down to know that it is Matt’s. He’s the only one standing to your right, anyway. He squeezes as though to let you know that you won’t lose your head, but you’re not so sure now that your college roommate is glaring at you in a white dress that reminds you of a pastry, and her eyes are full of fury. He can’t see it, but he would cower in fear if he did.

Thankfully, Janet pulls her aside, explaining the situation to her. 

“She what?!” she screeches. “On my wedding day? Are you kidding me?”

“Yes, because car accidents respect timing when it comes to special occasions,” Janet counters.

You snort. Matt beside you digs his teeth into his bottom lip, but even he can’t hide his amusement.

“Oh, snap,” you mutter under your breath. 

“Shots have been fired,” he says.

“I think we’re witnessing a double homicide.”

“I’m not a very credible witness. I can only describe how it sounded, unfortunately.”

Your snort turns into a laugh. The bride’s head snaps around, and you go quiet. “Sorry. I’m sorry,” you choke out.

“If she decides to throw a punch at your pretty face,” Matt’s breath tickles your ear, “I can be your attorney and sue her ass.”

This time, you’re conscious enough to slap a hand in front of your mouth to stifle your reaction. “How do you know I’m pretty?” you whisper back between little giggles.

He shrugs with a smirk of his own. “I just know.”

He’s got you wrapped around his little finger, and you have no choice but to submit.

Janet manages to bring some calm back to her friend eventually, and then it’s showtime. Right on the second, it’s time for you to walk down the aisle, and you have never been happier about a strict schedule and someone adamant about keeping that schedule for the sake of all of your lives.

Your roommate has always been a very dominant personality, so you’re aware of the things she can do when she doesn’t get what she wants. 

An 80s pop ballad begins to play. You make sure to match your pace to everyone else but also make sure that you’re not running away from your partner.

You may have been a mismatched bridesmaid, but you can’t complain about the company. 

Against all odds, the service is beyond beautiful. It’s not often you get to stand so close when two people who seem to truly love each other make a vow to be there for each other for the rest of their lives. You can’t help but shed a tear. They complement each other perfectly. Is that ever in the cards for you? Will you ever be able to have what they have? Or will you always feel like you’re not worthy of this kind of unconditional love and endless devotion—of someone wanting to spend the rest of their life with you?

You look over at Matt. The hint of a cross necklace is starting to peek out underneath his dress shirt. Of course, he’s Catholic. 

He carries himself with such a grace that puts everyone else in this room to shame. Does he know that you’re staring at him? You hope not.

After the ceremony, you lose sight of Matt in the masses. He doesn’t owe you a goodbye, but you still feel a little disappointed when you return to the dressing room and finally peel the satin dress off of your very sweaty skin. 

At the party afterward, he’s still nowhere to be found. You give up. Not that you want to spend the evening with him anyway, but you kind of do. You drown your sorrows in a glass of vodka cranberry and a bowl of olives. They taste like rotten meat, but there are too many people by the buffet for your liking. The last thing you want to do is mingle and get asked stupid questions by people you don’t even know. So, you stay back, and you watch from afar as everyone is having the time of their lives not so far away from you, but far enough for you to breathe.

“And here I thought weddings were supposed to be a joyous occasion,” Matt pipes up beside you, and you twirl around in your chair to face him with wide eyes.

You didn’t expect to see him back here. “Hi!” you exclaim. “What’re you—I thought you left.”

“Nah,” he says. “I just had to take care of some things.”

“Oh, yeah? Like what?”

He smirks. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Yes, that’s why I asked.”

Folding his cane, Matt lowers himself down on one of the chairs beside you and orders himself a beer with the bartender. “Let’s just say that I have an important court case coming up and I had to make a call.”

You take another sip from your drink. “That sounds a lot more exciting than my life, to be honest.”

“You are sulking at a wedding. Thinking about an ex?”

“More like life in general.”

“Ah, yes, the eternal fear of dying alone.” He raises his bottle to yours. “I’ll drink to that.”

A laugh escapes you. “That was cynical,” you say.

“And you’re not?”

He beats you at your own damn game, and he finally gets that smile he has been vying for. 

“Are you smiling?” his voice is barely above a whisper. 

Your tongue darts out to wet your lips. “Maybe.” But the smile is audible in your voice, giving you away.

Matt smirks, nodding his head. “Good girl.” 

The sharp vodka runs down the wrong pipe. You cough. Did he just—

He did.

He pats your back, and his hand lingers a lot longer than it should. He looks so smug. Pleased with himself. That part of him is stupidly attractive to you, even though you would usually hate such cockiness in any other man. But Matt isn’t like any other man.

You apologize for your reaction, but he should be the one apologizing to you for throwing you off your game. What is he doing? You can’t read him. You wish you could because that would make this so much easier, but that’s probably the point. He wants to tease you. He wants to mess with your head. He’s a dick. A fucking attractive dick that could tell you to do just about anything and you in your flustered state would go along with it without hesitations. That’s the kind of control he has over you, and you just met. It feels like a twisted form of destiny, but you can’t quite believe it. Yet.

“Do you always do that?” you dare to ask.

He frowns. “Do what?”

“Flirt with women who were forced to be bridesmaids even though they were only supposed to be guests?”

A playful smirk plays on his lips.  

“It’s been known to happen,” says Matt.

You poke your tongue against the soft tissue of your cheek. “Cheeky,” you murmur.

“That’s also been known to happen.”

“What, being cheeky with—”

“—with women who were forced to be bridesmaids even though they were only supposed to be guests? Yes.” He’s catching on quickly.

You laugh and nod. “Yeah, that.”

“I do have to say though,” he adds, and for a second you think he might ruin the joke instead of playing it out further, but Matt is full of surprises, “Out of all the mismatched bridesmaids I’ve met in my thirty-something years of, um, living, you’re my favorite so far.”

With your hand, you start fanning your face rather dramatically. “I feel honored,” you say. 

Again, he chuckles. “You should be.”

“Why, because you’re so irresistible?”

“I was going to say that I don’t like a lot of people because, you know, they’re dicks, but that works too.”

“Wow.” You take another sip. The liquor burns its way down your sore esophagus. “You have balls, man.”

“Is that a problem?” he counters with a question.

The answer comes naturally. “No,” you say. “I like it.”

“Good.” Hearing you clink the ice cubes against your empty glass by swirling it around, Matt concludes that you need a refill. “Can I get you another drink?” he asks.

The question sounds so innocent, but the look on his face renders you speechless. His hand inches dangerously close to yours on the counter, his knee brushing yours, and the heat shoots straight to your neglected cunt. 

Fuck this.

“You could do that, or we could skip that part and just…you know.”

One brush of your hand against his thigh, that’s all it takes for him to know. 

Pushing you through the door to his apartment a few minutes later, his lips are on you. The door falls shut with a loud bang, and he presses you against the wall of his hallway. 

His lips feel like a silky cloud of lewdness. The way he kisses you is utterly erotic. Your lips part in a delicious moan that he swallows with a grunt of his own. He swallows it all, shoving his tongue into the tight confines of your mouth, and exploring every inch he can reach. He tastes you. He consumes you. 

His hands desperately search for an ounce of bare skin. He’s tugging at your clothes, sliding and tearing them aside. Once his fingers finally brush over the bare skin of your stomach, he melts. 

You tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling him impossibly closer. Your leg hooks around his waist. You can’t wait. He has ignited a fire within you that no one has been able to light before. He’s touching you with a precision that puts your former lovers to shame. He’s paying attention to your every breath and heartbeat, and with every touch, he asks, “May I?” 

You don’t even make it to the bedroom. Once he has successfully removed the bottom half of your clothes, he falls to his knees. He is a sight to behold. The disarray of colors that shines into his apartment illuminates his face, bathing it in a selection of hues that bring out his best features. 

Matt has yet to take off his glasses, and you take the opportunity to tear them away from his face. You’re gentle though. You ask him, “May I?” mirror the question he has been asking you throughout the night, and after a thick swallow, he nods.

You caress his cheek as you remove his glasses, and when you finally see his hazel eyes in all of their glory, you have to bow down to capture his lips in a soft kiss. 

“You’re beautiful,” you whisper. “So fucking beautiful, Matt.”

He whimpers. You could have sworn to have imagined it, but when you stroke his cheek with such a gentleness it almost makes him recoil in anguish, you know that you didn’t imagine the sound from his lips. You kiss it away. You kiss all of his insecurities away. You want him to feel as good as he is making you feel. You don’t know him, but you want to get to know him, and if he’s ready to surrender himself to you, you are more than ready to do the same for him. He can feel that with every brush of your fingertips and every kiss you deliver to his plump lips that taste like heaven and hell in itself.

Your words don’t leave him cold. His cock is aching in his pants—you take note of his impressionable size, which only makes you more excited for what’s to come—but he refuses to take it out. Not until you’re fully satisfied. To be honest, you could come just from staring at him on his knees in front of you, looking like he would lay the world to your feet and kill everyone who has ever dared to hurt you, but that is not enough for him. 

He needs the experience. Feeling your skin, tasting you, and breathing in all facets of your natural scent mixed with the artificial one from your shampoo. He can’t get enough of it. Of you. Of everything about and within you. He’s as attracted to your body as he is consumed by your soul. You’ve got him in a deadlock, but he would never complain about that.

You gasp when Matt grabs your thigh and throws it over his shoulder. Your panties are gone within seconds, torn on the floor somewhere. You’re completely bare to him. 

You want to warn him that you didn’t shave, but he doesn’t care. 

Before you know it, he has flattened his tongue against your pussy, and he licks a long stripe from your hole to your clit. 

“Fuck!” you cry out, reaching for support on the wall behind you.

He flicks the sensitive bundle of nerves with the tip of his tongue, testing the waters before he sucks it into his mouth. 

His grip on your thigh becomes bruising. Matt eats you out like he has been starving for years and you are his first and last meal. He sucks on your clit, and he fucks you with his tongue. Your pussy is the altar he worships at. Your arousal is his holy water. He dives deeper and deeper into the wetness between your thighs, and he moans loudly when you pull at his hair.

“Fuck, Matt–” You’re clawing at whatever you can find. It feels so good. You’re higher than you have ever been.

The sound of his mouth working your slick folds toward eternal bliss is obscene and utterly sinful. His stubble scratches against your inner thighs. The pain grounds you in the here and now, making you focus on the tidal wave that is about to crash into you and tear you to shreds. 

You can’t even warn him before your orgasm takes over, and it takes you into another dimension. You come with a shout of his name. It’s nothing short of explosive. The orgasm drags on through his mouth on your clit, relentlessly sucking until the nerves jump, and you’re begging him to stop. 

His face glistens. With every kiss up your body, Matt marks you. By the time he has reached your quivering lips, he still tastes like you.

“You did so well,” he whispers. “Such a good girl for me.”

You exhale. Without his shoulders to hold onto, you would probably lose your footing. “You’re crazy,” is all you can say. 

He smirks. “In a good way, I hope.”

“Yes. Fuck.”

“Regret coming home with me?”

“Absolutely not.”

That’s all he needed to hear. He lifts you with ease. “Then I’m going to make it worth your while.”

And when your back hits the soft mattress and silk sheets of his bed, you don’t doubt that he is going to make good on his promise. 

Matt Murdock Smut Tag List: @acharliecoxedfan @gpenguin666 @linamarr @mcugeekposts @itwasthereaminuteago @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @etanordoesbullsh1t @thychuvaluswife @harleycao @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch @sya-skies @amberritonicole @ravenclaw617 @pigeonmama

[mondsphere]

Luo Binghe: Original Drafts Edition! Who and why?

“[…] in fact, in his original outline, Bing-gē hadn’t even had a romance plotline; he had been doomed to fade away, alone and unaging forever.” — The Scum Villain’s Self-Saving System, Vol. 4 (Mo Xiang Tong Xiu)

The drafts version of Binghe! Not Bing-gē, nor Bing-mei, but a secret, third thing! (I’m partial to Bing-xióng (兄) myself, just for thematic cohesion. Bing-mei remains as he is: Shizun’s special glass-heart maiden.)

So! Who is this elusive, mythical Binghe we never got the chance to meet? What is he? How do I get to pick this one’s brains?

Why is he haunting me! What does he want! So much to think about.

Listen: I love my trash sons, both the racoon and wet dog variations, but I am curious about this handsome demon lord who did not bed thousands, and did not steal his shizun to lovingly coax him into a loving and respectful marriage. Alas, Airplane-bro, as is custom, has left me hanging.

The solitary quote above has been floating around my brainspace for months. Intermittently, I would look up at the sky and sigh a big sad dog sigh, and think of this lonely demon-man emperor who seems to be both perfectly representative of No-Shizunitis Suffering Binghe, and on the exact opposite end of the line. I have spent many a night trying to rearrange the blocks of both SVSSS and PIDW like a sad toddler with no plan but plenty of amorphous longing.

Thus, Bing-xiong. My beloved new toy.

We know he is left alone and unaging. This means that:

He does not marry even once. (Sorry, Other Bing Variants. This one came broken.)

He is not defeated, killed, or left to suffer his not-father’s fate of sulking under a mountain.

From 1) we can assume two more things! Xin Mo either gets fixed/doesn’t influence this Binghe the same way, or: Xin Mo is completely written off à la Airplane Retconning, making Binghe potentially even more individually powerful than his younger counterparts.

(Or he just. Takes people’s cultivation ad-infinitum. Interesting thought, but too straight-forward for my tastes. Airplane’s thoughts? Unknowable.)

From 2) we can also assume Binghe cannot die, is under the influence of the Protagonist Halo unto infinity, and will only be put out of his misery once the heat death of the universe deems it a worthwhile endeavour. Either that or the story ends, but. It tickles a miserable part of my brain pink to think Binghe will not be let off even then.

Anyway. Bing-xiong, of course, has the same source material to work off of. Up until the Abyss, and including it, the plotline should be if not the same, adjacent enough to be indistinguishable.

However. This means:

Bing-xiong never got coerced into sex by Qin Wanyue, thus not starting him on the path of sex-dependency/addiction, avoiding Bing-gē’s fate by virtue of the Butterfly Effect. (Read this post because it explains Bing-ge's whole thing better than a lot of things I've seen.)

Again, Xin Mo implications.

Alternate Universe Shenanigans make an appearance. (Shen Jiu’s fever and death was actually meant to happen, Bing-ge just got very, very unlucky and his Universe’s Yue Qingyuan very, very lucky. For a few years. Either that or there is a Shen Yuan for every Binghe! Again: sorry, Bing-ge. You need to find your own. Middle child issues…)

Once the drafts/original outline got lost, all bets are off and now the characters become real people, without narrative influence. This also has the very fucked up implication that Bing-ge is actually a result of exclusively external forces and would have never gone down that path if not forced onto it by Airplane’s unwitting hands. I do and do not love this version. Very Mo Ran-esque, if looked at from afar and squinting.

Other options I’m either too not-high to think, or too high to put together. (Cold medicine is insane?)

I am fascinated by this… Schrödinger’s Binghe. A jaded, lonely emperor left in the ashes of his world, gazing upon his own history and finding fucking nothing and no one. Metaphorically and, like, practically, if I’m understanding Airplane’s musings correctly. Isolated, cursed by his own blood in a completely new and fucked up way!

I need Airplane to speak with me for like, half an hour. This is paramount to my mental health, I’m losing my braincells by the hour.

What happened to this impervious, cocky, badass demon bastard lord to become so alone? How did it happen? Why did it not happen to the other two, or at least Bing-ge, who has had every horrible and shitty thing possible and impossible piled onto his head? What the fuck is up with Xin Mo? Why isn’t it eating away at Big Bro Luo? Or, worse: why is it eating away at him in such a way that instead of turning into a violent yet charismatic, horror-creature of a man, it turns him into the existential terror-fate I’ve contemplated and abhorred since I was seven?

Tianlang-jun as the final boss. Discovering Huan Hua Palace Master’s crimes, deceit and… stuff. Perhaps even uncovering Shen Jiu’s backstory.

Ooh! Worse! Or better? What if he finds out everything, after having followed Bing-gē’s path, and simply… gives up? A grown up Bing-ge, minus the marriage and surrogate-lover part(s).

(More unlikely than other options, but still there, I guess.)

Fucking insane of MXTX to do this to me, personally and specifically.

I can only speculate forever, I guess! Left… alone and pondering forever.

So. Not a Bing-ge, and not a Bing-mei. A Bing-xiong, if you will.

[itisme-rosie]

-- warmth; sirius black, james potter, remus lupin x reader (separately) wherein one is in desperate need of warmth during the cold days in hogwarts

cw: fluff!! pining sirius, established relationship for james and remus

[ the first draft for this didn't save even though it was ready for publishing so like 👹👹. originally full scenarios, idk what to call this format, i just wanted to post these already 😭😭 i'll get around to editing it eventually 😭 ]

masterlist | rules

[ sirius black ]

it was at a point in your blossoming relationship that you two were still getting to know each other and your boundaries together.

sirius found you in the common room, cursing the gap in your window that allowed a cold draft of wind to enter your room and almost freeze you over.

you explained that to him while he sat in the armchair across from you, thinking of a few solutions for your predicament of feeling cold.

"galleon for your thoughts?" sirius pulls out the coin from his pocket, holding it out to me.

i laugh softly, taking from him and toying with the gold lump, "i just feel a little cold," i shrug.

"cold?" he echoes, "would you like more blankets?"

i shake my head, "i'd feel suffocated rather than warm under layers and layers of blankets,"

"i can stoke the fire for you,"

"i'd have to move closer to the fire to feel the warmth, and merlin knows i might accidentally burn something " i sigh, sinking into the sofa.

"warming spell?" sirius leans forward in his seat.

"it'd feel too hot after a while,"

sirius sits in contemplation for a while before he looks at you with a look that spelled out mischief.

he stands up and tells you to scoot over.

you would ask a few times why, and he wouldn't entertain your question.

"nothing terrible," he would say, and there was no stopping the grin on his lips when you make space for him.

sirius opens his arms as soon as he sits down and it takes a lot for him to not burst out laughing when he sees your face.

"i'm confused," *i say, looking sirius up and down in slight amusement.

"i am ready and willing to cuddle you for warmth,"

you laugh softly, a fond smile on your lips as he reassures you that he'll only do it if you were comfortable with it.

so you settle in his arms, a comfortablr silence filling the room.

"i think i could actually get used to this," *i yawn, snuggling closer to him, head resting on his chest to listen to his heartbeat.

i feel him smile against my hair, gently rubbing my back.

"me too darling, me too,"

[ james potter ]

a darling of a man, really.

he reminded you to grab your gloves before you left for class and, obviously, you still forgot them.

on your date around the grounds, he notices how you keep your hands in your pockets, fidgeting around with something inside them.

"you forgot them, didn't you?"

i smile sheepishly with a nod, looking down at my boots and murmuring and apology.

"hey, hey, it's alright love," james says reassuringly, holding my cold hands in between his gloved ones and kissing my knuckles and the tip of my nose.

"i know, it's just," i sigh in frustration, "you reminded me and i still forgot,"

james smiles and kisses your forehead.

"it's gives me the perfect opportunity to do this..."

"to do what?"

you barely have time to brace yourself before he smirks mischievously, scooping you up in his arms.

"james!" i squeal.

"bear hug!" the brunette laughs out loud, twirling me around in the air, our laughter filling the air.

he pepper kisses all over your face when he puts you back on the ground, your knees shaky from how hard you were laughing.

"better?" "a lot better," "good,"

with his hand holding yours, he guides you to the kitchens to get you cookies and hot chocolate.

"you mean so you can get cookies," i say accusingly with a teasing smile.

james laughs heartily, "i mean so you, my little love, can warm up properly,"

[ remus lupin ]

you were waiting for him over in the courtyard, bouncing on the balls of your heels and waiting for him to show up so you could walk to your next class together.

remus arrived after a while, taking your gloved hand in his so he could lead you to your next class.

halfway through the journey, you start jumping to get your blood pumping to at least get a little warm.

"i feel cold, so very cold," i explain to remus with a shudder, and there's a guilty look in his eyes.

"don't you dare blame yourself," i frown, kissing his cheek to calm him down, "it is not your fault, i've always been sensitive to the cold rem,"

he has plenty of ideas, and he is more than capable of casting a warming spell.

but remus john lupin is also a romantic so he takes off his scarf and wraps it around you.

then he undos his oversized robes and you almost yell at him, but he wraps them around you while he still wore the robes. remus' arms are firm around me as he keeps me warm.

"was this your best idea?" i quip teasingly, wrapping my arms around him and laying my head against his chest.

remus is extremely warm, and it's comforting.

"the most effective," remus nods, very serious before he chuckles, rubbing his nose against mine in a penguin kiss that has me giggling.

after standing around for a whille, wrapped up in remus, i remind him that we had a class to attend.

"right," he sighs heavily, reluctantly pulling away, "but we are very much going to cuddle again later to share body warmth like penguins, yes?"

[cards-of-rose]

study tip!! how i write essays

going from a long, intensive classical education to my current history major, i've had to write a lot of papers. at this point, i can write a 5 page paper in a few hours, and just a couple weeks ago i wrote a 20 page paper in a single day. i graduated valedictorian with this method (current cGPA of 4.0!) so i thought i'd share how i write them! grab some coffee and settle in - it'll be a long post, but i promise it'll be worth it. :)

first, the topic. if you don't have an assigned topic, pick something that fascinates you, something that you could write pages and pages about. you will. if your topic is assigned, find something in it that you find fascinating. even if you find your topic completely boring, there's always something interesting to glean from it! once you find this, you'll gain motivation, and that's half the battle.

write down a basic outline. when i say basic, i mean barebones. just a vague, 3-point general idea of what you think you might write your paper about. this will guide you in your research! you don't need to worry about writing your full outline just yet.

sources. after you have a basic list of points, it's time to find sources! if they're already assigned, you can skip this step. most of the time they aren't, though. this is the most important part of your paper. you can go to google scholar to find really good academic journals and studies!

generally, the number of sources you have depends on the length of your paper! a good guide is that your amount of sources should number half the length of your paper. so if you have a 5 page paper, 2-3 is a good way to go. if you have a 20 page paper, you'll want around 10.

evidence. skim over your sources and categorize each one under the point you made earlier. this will mean you have a quick reference guide when you're writing, so you don't have to go through a big list of sources when you're looking for evidence! under each source, put a few bullet points talking about the info that you can use for your paper.

outline. this part may seem daunting. i promise, though, it's one of the easiest parts of the paper! you may feel tempted to skip it, but having an outline makes your paper sound better and makes it easier and quicker to write. use the sources and bullet point info you used earlier to fill out your outline. start broad and general, then add details as you do your research! your outline should be about half the length of your paper. don't worry about making it super scholarly - this is just for you, so make it as informal and easy to understand as you want! be stupid, throw in memes, whatever gets it written!

every outline should include an introduction, a body, and a conclusion. i can go over the structure of an outline in another post, but remember the 3 points you thought up earlier? these will form your entire outline, and eventually your essay!

finally, write! open a blank google doc and view it side by side with your outline. once you get started, it's a lot easier to finish than you'd think, especially if you took the time to outline! this is when you can make your dumb outline into something that would make the ancient philosophers proud. don't worry about perfection. just write it as you go. you can edit it later!

quotes/evidence. once you've finished your rough draft, it's time to add the evidence! some profs want quotes, others want you to paraphrase. either way, go through your paper and put in the evidence you researched earlier. don't worry about citations just yet - just put in the link in a comment on your rough draft. it won't be hard to fix it up later.

edit!! please, please don't finish your rough draft and be done with it. you can save so many points by going over it again instead of submitting it in a rushed 3am haze. fix spelling and grammar, add citations and a reference page, edit for clarity, anything you need to make it sound like the best paper you can write! if you're proud of it by the end, you know you've done something right.

congrats, you did it!! make sure you start your paper early and don't wait till the night before - your grade will thank you <3

[physalian]

What No One Tells You About Writing #7 —The Editing Edition

Today’s list is all about the post-draft process, as I slog through another round of it.

Part 6

Part 5

Part 4

1. No one cares about your book baby as much as you do

Trying to say this as objectively as possible, but it remains an ugly truth. Your WIP might very well be the most important project on your mind for months. Unless you have a significant other totally and completely invested in your writing journey, no one else will have the same priorities you do concerning your beta readers and editors. They all have their own lives and jobs to think about.

Whether it’s your editors not approaching your book with the same level of emotion as you do, or not working on your timetable as quickly as you’d want them to, your book’s biggest cheerleader will remain you, the author, and no one else. Doesn’t mean your book is bad, niche, or boring, it’s just not as special to anyone else as it is to you.

2. Your editors will have their arbitrary hills to die on

I have said this in other ways before, but editors aren’t robots (or at least they shouldn’t be), and we all have our own reasons for not liking books, and those reasons probably aren’t reflective of you as an author. You can have an editor with moral objections to some of your themes and characters, but who is still quite competent at critiquing pacing and flow.

Or one who just fundamentally dislikes a side character or a romantic subplot, while agreeing that it is well-written. Or one who does not agree with how a scene should be told, what elements it should include, what they deem offensive, etc. This is why it’s important to have as many eyes on it as you can for a full spectrum of opinions. One editor might hate a scene that five others love. You can’t please everyone.

3. This is where you will hate your own narrative the most

The amount of times you will read over the same lines of dialogue, the same jokes, the same introspective pining, the same gushy romantic scene, can be incredibly frustrating and demoralizing. You’ll second-guess yourself constantly. You’ll wonder if it really is that funny or that romantic or that compelling. You’ll convince yourself that it’s dumb or pedantic or pretentious and consider deleting entire scenes and characters.

When you’re neck-deep in cleaning up crutch words and fixing syntax and arguing with yourself over the placement of a period or a comma or whether or not to use “said” or a different verb, there’s not much fun to be had. Go slow, step away from the project when it gets too much, and come back with fresh eyes later. You do your book baby no favors editing with an attitude.

4. Your favorite elements will end up on the cutting room floor

This is why I think it's important to archive your deleted scenes. Some characters, important lines of dialogue, or themes and motifs get axed as a byproduct of deleting the scenes that contain them. You can either shuffle those beats around to other areas of your book, or save them for a later WIP, or a sequel.

Sometimes your book isn't what you thought it would be, and that doesn't make it any lesser for what it is.

5. However long you think it’s going to take, guess again

As mentioned above, no one works on your time table. Beta readers can be very hard to find as the definition of what beta reading looks like isn’t very set in stone. How I beta read is very different from the work delivered by some that I hire as we all have different elements that we focus on.

Some try to edit your book into a story they want to read, overriding your voice as an author. Some only give line-edit feedback where you’re looking for more big picture notes, or vice versa. Some give less feedback than you think the narrative warrants.

Some skip entire scenes and leave you unknowing if there was just nothing special to say about them. Some will miss important edits that later editors slap with valid criticisms. Some just quit, and you have to start over. Some will give you vague feedback, or contradictory feedback, or feedback that just isn’t helpful and you have to do your best with what’s been given to you.

Editing is a very long and tedious process and vetting editors can get mighty difficult when we all have our own stipulations for what we think a quality edit means. It costs a pretty penny, too, if you’re like me with WIPs that consistently top 100k words.

—

In the end, editing remains vital to any story, original or fanfic or otherwise, if you want it to be as successful as it can be. I don’t think there is a perfect, flawless narrative out there, even by the greats. You’ve already dedicated so much of your time and effort into your work, do it justice by giving it the TLC it deserves.

[dnd-smash-pass-vs]

Fuck it, can't hold myself back anymore, posting early! We're finally on the finals! Winner here wins the Loser's bracket, and will get a free shot at the winner of the main tournament. Fun fact, I never actually saved the edited worg separately. I didn't think it'd make it this far. I remade it like 4 times. ANYWAY! On the left, Barlgura! a 5-8 foot tall (1.5-2.5 m) demon. They're telepathic, change their fur color to show thier mood, and turn invisible if you're into that. They're also surprisingly chill unless provoked. Unlike most demons they don't really get much pleasure in bullying the weak without reason, and would rather just be left alone to do their thing and draft dodge. Mostly just hates authority figures, which I thought that most of us could get behind.

The Worg (right) is a wolf-like creature, knows 2 or 3 languages, and are known for turning on thier riders if mistreated! Last they bothered listing the size they were 3 ft (91 cm) at the shoulder, 5 ft (1.5 m) long. But the picture shows it at nearly twice that, around 5 ft (1.5m) tall and 8 ft (2.4 m) long. Whichever works for you I suppose, maybe it's regional.

[xinnabon]

he's the type to...!!!

#kazuha & albedo x gn!reader

note; "he's the type to" edition!!! but these are basically just wholesome, on crack, short, and definitely hcs that don't make sense at all.

requests are allowed to be sent but do take in mind that i will take longer than expected since i would require your patience over this. also no nsfw, i'm a minor.

i don't think this is proof read since i just wanted to post after months.

+KAZUHA

he's the type to dance like old married couples with you. life awaits him and now that you're here, many outcomes behold in the future to the two of you as time comes, as he wants you to be a part of it.

he's the type to wait for you. if you're going to be gone long, he'll support you and still stay loyal. why is that?

he's the type to sing for you. the questionable thing is, its like he's alluring you to sleep after a hard day. he has some poems he made and just make it in song form to just make you more sleepier just trying to understand what it means. i do wonder if it does matter.

he's the type to be like a knight. even though he is a noble himself, it is never a burden to sweep you up your feet. saving you and saving himself.

he's the type to lift your stuff. maybe when you try moving in with him, he'd do all sorts of things just to make you feel welcomed enough, or its just simply carrying certain grocery. who knows.

he's the type to write about you ACCIDENTALLY. maybe he'd reflect it over something he foresaw or just something he takes value of and inspired him. as he progresses, it eventually turns about you.

(previous bullet extended) "a promise is made out of true loyalty and devotion in committing to someone. either you spouse, friend, family, or even to someone as hard as rock to figure out, it is still a must to be able to harnest your ability and fulfil it. someday, somewhere, somehow, i'll have the will to promise to my own spouse. to make due with at the end of " he scraps it off. (bonus if he just keeps it somewhere instead)

he's the type to save drafts from his writing. he probably has a lot and likes looking at it since it sounds so direct and a few mistakes... just often poorly written or not understandable enough to comprehend.

he's the type to be caught rambling too much about a certain topic or interest by "reflection". he'd go all out and get sympathetic, just by thinking as well what other people would think about it. you sometimes tell him over and over again but maybe he can't stop because it may take advantage of him.

+ALBEDO

he's the type to never judge. even at times of being reckless, he wouldn't bother to pressure you further. he is someone to trust whenever you fear of one's opinion or possible judgement that can lead as an offense. no. he would never.

he's the type to doodle. whenever you come by while he is working or watching him work, he does horrible but cute doodles of the both of you while writing specific formulas or other materials he does. he thinks that it serves as entertainment for you.

he's the type to ramble and fidget around. again, working. you can hear him spitting out certain hypothesis, possibilities, formulas, or literally... anything. he likes it just because he thinks that it can help progress his mind more.

he's the type to be clueless. maybe the first time you were trying to court him, he thought you were just trying to hell regardless of the weird pick up lines you did to get his attention. you literally told him off that you liked him and the fact he only knew now at that moment.

he's the type to accidentally baby you. he's pretty much used to being with klee all the time to the point he is overly protective even if you doubt it. as in, he would ask if you are comfortable with him or not. maybe he does need a break.

he's the type to generally not know how to cook. he'd kept asking you how to just to spend some time and improve. all he probably knows is just to make daily every morning coffee.

he's the type to be less self-conscious around you. people are horribly terrifying to be with because it's either they'd want to test you or even aggravate you to your limit. not you. no. you'd never do that to him. he did thought about it but as timed leaned and further passed, with you, nothing will interfere.

he's the type to be your tutor. history or chemistry, he'd know. instant head aches just hearing him teach you but he doesn't bother to make an issue out of it. but of course, he'll be cut out in trying to go a more simpler level for you. (not an insult...)

he's the type to do crossword puzzles or just puzzles in general. he can be bored or just in a burnt out, and you know all about the cerebrum and testing your brain to become more knowledgeable per puzzle or anything. he liked asking you if you ever want to do some with him but maybe that's your fault for the lack of capacity you contain in your head that you refuse to at times.

[neet-elite]

back with some thoughts that wouldn't leave my head, picture a genuinely dumb and naive pc with a head full of air and a heart of gold who, despite seeing how messed up the town is, is far too trusting and lets people do whatever they want to her. genuinely thinks everyone is her friend. even robin, sweet as they are, uses her as stress relief sometimes. it's fine, though. isn't that what best friends are for? -🌸

i love this so much you don't even know... innocent readers are by far one of my most favourite tropes <3

edit: SO SORRY! i thought i had posted this already but i somehow had it saved as a draft instead AHH

robin keeping you cooped up in his room for the night, perverting you in private by winding down after school and playing games together. his cock shoved balls deep down your throat, a greedy groan escaping him at the feeling of some of your drool spilling down the length of it. he might be gaming, but you're warming his cock with your tight little throat like a good girl. like a nightly routine, he coos down at you and gently pets your hair, unable to keep up with the pace of his game when you swallow around his tip a few times, just like how he's taught you to. you've gotten so good at sucking him off, yknow that? no longer his sweet and innocent little girl, though you like to pretend to be.

you only pop off his cock to ask one question, and it absolutely melts his heart from how naive it is. a string of spit leaving your pretty lips connected to his leaking cock, precum dribbling down for you to lap at. "Are we winning, Robin?" you pout up at him from your position between his legs, and he almost feels bad for taking advantage of your purity like this. all doe eyed and pretty, genuine in your stupidity. he wants to keep you all for himself, to corrupt you in private because at least he knows that he'll keep you happy, unlike some other residents of the town.

he takes a brief glance at the screen behind you, your back turned and unable to see the GAME OVER screen blinking in the dimly lit room. with a little tap on the nape of your neck and a repositioning of his lower half, inching closer to your lips for your to dumbly take his cock back into your innocent slut mouth, he groans quietly to himself. sighing into the weight of your tongue running the length of his cock and moaning softly when your lips tighten around his tip. with how good you are at sucking cock, he's surprised you haven't caught on to his nefarious actions yet.

"Course we are." he smiles sweetly at you, head thrown back to hide the rolling of his eyes, but he can't hope to quell the roll of his hips down your eager little throat. "You're helping me— helping so much. Such a good friend a— ah— aren't you?"

[rpschtuff]

FIXES FOR THE TRIM REBLOGS "ORIGINAL POST MADE IN LEGACY EDITOR" GLITCH

If you are using the beta editor to cut a post that was originally made in the legacy editor, you will get a warning telling you that trim reblogs may not work correctly. Using trim reblogs on the post will appear to work as intended, but refreshing your drafts or posting the thread will show that your latest reply has been bizarrely duplicated.

Before, I thought the only reliable method of fixing this was to move the thread to a fresh post. But through experimentation, I've since learned that there are not one but two easy fixes for this!

Option 1 — use trim reblogs in your drafts before writing any of your reply

Option 2 — use trim reblogs in your drafts, refresh your drafts, and remove the duplicate using Tumblr's built-in delete reblogs feature

I personally think it's best to just get into the habit of using trim reblogs before writing anything, but both options are pretty easy to manage. I will go over both under the cut.

Disclaimer! Both of these fixes worked for me in my testing, but since this a fairly new problem, I may not be aware of every situation. Please let me know if these don't work for you so I can look into it and update this post accordingly.

Option 1

The first option (which I find much easier) is to simply trim before writing your reply. Save the post to your drafts without adding anything to it.

Use trim reblogs as intended. You'll still get the warning -- continue past it and select only the first trail item (the oldest reply) to remove.

You'll be left with just your partner's previous reply, like this.

Now you can edit the post to add your reply.

Refreshing the page or posting the draft will not bring back the duplicated reply.

Option 2

The second option, which requires a little more work, is to use trim reblogs, then use Tumblr's built in feature to remove additional reblogs. This was actually suggested to me by an anon a while back, but I didn't get around to testing it until now -- I can confirm it works!

This option is for when your reply has already been written and the post is saved in your drafts.

Use trim reblogs as usual -- again, you'll get the warning. Just continue past it and remove the oldest reblog trail.

The post will look normal in your drafts.

But if you refresh your drafts, or post the reply, you'll see that your reply has been duplicated.

At this point, click to edit the post. Hovering over the first of your duplicated replies will bring up a red X -- this is Tumblr's built-in feature to remove reblogs from a post.

Click that red X to get rid of the first duplicated reply. You'll know it worked if it says "put reblogs back."

And save your draft again.

The duplicated reply will be gone, and posting shouldn't cause any problems.

[nikonladyz4]

Does the Maknae Line Fan the Ship Wars?

First and foremost I believe that Jimin and Jungkook are partners. I support their relationship and believe they got together in 2015 and committed in 2017.

But, I do question the shipping aspect of the maknae line and how all three maknaes seem to play into it.

What i really hate is how Jimin is the one to get dragged the most because of shipping. He is obviously close to JK regardless of the type of relationship they have (boyfriends or best friends) and friends with Tae.

I think JK and JM have been loud over the years but toned it down in 2022/2023 for one or more reasons, but one main reason being they knew they were going to enlist together and had to make people/government see them as friends/colleagues and not boyfriends.

Although we had some great jikook moments last year, there were also taekook moments. Were any of these moments intentional by any of the three or all three members for specific reasons?

What do you all think of these?

As stated above I think a major reason that JK participated in shipping moments with JM and Tae was to try and dispel the belief he and JM were romantically involved due to their upcoming enlistment. By all three playing the shipping games, there is plausible deniability of an intimate relationship with any one of the members.

The shipping moments seemed to get heavy around promotions, concerts or release of content. Goes back to the k-pop business model of supporting shipping because it makes money.

Although, Jk was loud about Jimin. He also had his moments with Tae. Jimin also had his moments with JK, Tae and Suga.

Then we have the events of this week with JK following a fan site that reposted a lot of Jikook content along with Taekook and BTS members. It seemed to be in response to the craziness after he liked both Tae and Jimin content on his TikTok page. Of course he unfollows and that creates another uproar of hate against Jimin.

Interesting enough, JK searches and views multiple shipping accounts under the names of Jikook, Minkook, vkook. There may be more, i got tired of searching…..lol

I honestly think the guys could care less about the fan hate. Their participation in fanservice/shipping/skinship is part of their marketing strategy. It also protects their real, personal relationships. The fan behavior and reaction is on the fan, not on the members. They have been trained to deal with fan behavior/reaction since 2011/2012. Yet, when one of the members crosses a boundary, JK seems to step up and address it in lives or songs.

In spite of them participating in the shipping games, JK and JM continue to show who they are to each other regardless of what the fans do or say. They proved this when they boldly went to Japan together, even when they were being threatened with death and antis reporting an alleged gay relationship to the military.

The ultimate show of their bond was the announcement of them enlisting as companions in the military. Spending 18 months together: training, working, living, sleeping, vacationing.

Edit: i thought I had lost this post when I fell asleep. I just realized the draft is saved and I can finish and publish. So this is similar to my post on a reblog.