#i think it's the weird happy i feel at funerals?

[sitepathos]

From Gold to Mold

Chapter 1: The Change

“Happy birthday, to you,” your teacher, Mrs. Palmer, and classmates finish singing to you.

“Thank you, everyone,” you giggle, happy that everyone did something special for your birthday in the middle of class.

You’re now six-years-old and your Momma’s promised to take you to Little Luigi’s Pizza Place after school, where you’ll get to open your presents from her, as well as eat all the pizza you want and have a cookie pizza for free! You begged her to let you stay home, but she laughed and said that she had to meet her publisher for her upcoming book, but she promised that after she was done, she’d come check you out and the two of you would go celebrate your birthday.

You look up at the clock (good thing it’s digital, because you haven’t learned to read the old clocks yet!) and see that it’s almost time for lunch.

“Come on, Momma,” you mutter to yourself. “Get here, already.”

Seriously, you didn’t plan to eat lunch, so you didn’t bother packing lunch today!

Just then, the intercom above the door chimes.

“Mrs. Palmer,” the school secretary asks.

“Yes?”

“Can you please send Y/N Gould to the office, please? There’s someone here to see him.”

“Yes,” you cheer, making a few in the class laugh.

“Of course,” she responds before the device clicks off.

You grab your backpack and toss it over your back before rushing towards the door.

“Bye, Y/N,” one classmate says as you pass her.

“Happy birthday,” another says as you near the door.

“Enjoy your birthday, Y/N,” Mrs. Palmer says, her usual bright smile on her face. “We’ll see you tomorrow. Remember to have your worksheet done.”

And with that, you leave the room and skip down the hall to the main office, happy that your school is small so you don’t have to walk far. As you do, all you can think about is all the pizza you’re about to eat! And the chocolate chip cookie pizza that you get after that! And don’t forget about the presents! Maybe you’ll get the new Pokémon Platinum game for your DS, or a new stuffed animal, or maybe a new movie!

The suspense is practically tearing you apart and you enter the office, ready to greet your Momma when you see… Sheriff Foley. And he looks… sad. You look to the secretary, who’s standing behind him, and she has the same sad look.

“Y/N,” he says.

“Sheriff Foley,” you say, looking around to find Momma, but not finding her. “What’s wrong? Where’s Momma?”

“Son,” he says as the secretary begins to cry a bit. “I have some bad news.”

You feel a weird feeling in your stomach, like when you eat a bunch of ice cream and get sick, but this feeling is worse than that.

“What?”

“It’s about your momma. I got a call from the police in Vegas and they said there had been a car accident. Some drunk fool leaving a casino hit your mother’s car.”

You feel your heart stop at the words “hit” and “mother.”

“Is she ok,” you manage to say. “She’s at the hospital, right?”

The secretary’s crying becomes louder.

“I’m sorry, son,” he says, a tear falling from his eye. “He was going too fast when he hit her. She’s gone.”

“Gone? Like missing?” Now, you’re crying. “Why can’t they find her?”

“No, gone as in she’s no longer with us.”

“Like… she’s gone to heaven,” you whisper.

He nods and it’s then you feel your entire world collapse. You remember what Momma said about going to heaven when you saw a squirrel asleep on the side of the road. She’d said that he had gone to heaven after falling asleep and that he wouldn’t be waking up again. That he’d always be there.

“No,” you cry, tears and snot falling from your face. “No, she can’t be in heaven! She said she’d be here!”

Sheriff Foley takes you into his arms as you cry.

The next few days go by in a blur. You stay with Sheriff Foley and his wife until the funeral. Unfortunately, the accident was so bad that the casket had to stay closed, so you weren’t able to see her one last time before she’s put in her grave. The whole town of Goodsprings is there; she was an author writing best-selling romance novels set during the Age of Sail and a pillar of the community, so everyone wanted to be there to say their final goodbyes to her and their condolences to you.

You said nothing during the whole thing. You hadn’t said anything since Sheriff Foley told you that Momma had gone to heaven and that she wouldn’t be back. The only noise to leave you is the sound of crying.

“Y/N,” he says as you watch the grave be filled with dirt. “When we leave, we’ll have to go by your house. You need to pack anything you need.”

“Why,” you ask, your voice sore from crying for days.

“Because a man is waiting there for you and when you have everything you need, he’ll take you to McCarran Airport. From there, you’ll go to Gotham City in New Jersey.”

You couldn’t believe your ears, first you lose Momma and now you’re losing your home?

“Why do I have to leave,” you say, tears streaming down your face.

“Because the county did some checking and found your father through a DNA test.”

You freeze at that. Your Daddy?

“Momma, do I have a Daddy,” you asked her once.

“You do, baby, but he doesn’t know about you,” she answered. “We met years ago, back when Momma was young and dumb. When I found out I was having you, I couldn’t find him. That’s when I realized I had to act right.” She rubbed her hand through your hair. “It’s thanks to you that I’m not like that anymore.”

That conversation goes through your head as you ride back to your house. You’re actually going to meet your Daddy? When you pull up to your house you see a fancy car sitting in the driveway and an elderly man in a suit standing next to it, watching you as you get out.

“I’m sorry, who’re you,” Sheriff Foley asks.

“Alfred Pennyworth,” the man says, bowing a little. “Butler to the Wayne Family. I apologize, Sheriff, but I’m afraid Master Bruce was unable to get away. Urgent business at Wayne Enterprises demanded his attention.”

“More urgent than his son?”

You can see the butler slightly flinch at that, despite how good he tries to hide it.

“I understand your frustration. I expressed the same sentiments, but Master Bruce couldn’t be persuaded to leave the matter to Mr. Fox.” He looks down at you. “I trust this is young Master Y/N?”

You can’t help but duck behind the sheriff’s legs to hide from him.

“Yeah, this is him.”

“I’m glad to meet you, though I wish it was under more joyous circumstances. You have my most sincere condolences for your loss.”

“Thank you,” you say, looking down at the ground.

“Come on, son, let’s get all your stuff packed.”

The three of you spend the next hour packing all your toys and clothes into cardboard boxes. When asked about your bed, dresser, and other larger things, Alfred said a room had already been prepared for you with a king sized bed and a dresser with room for all your clothes and more.

“Should you require anything else, I will ensure Master Bruce provides it.”

“What will happen to the house,” you finally ask Sheriff Foley, afraid for what he would say.

“Your momma already paid off her house and her will said that everything that’s hers goes to you. For now, the county will care for it until you turn eighteen, which is when you can inherit it.”

Hearing that should’ve made you feel better, but it didn’t because you’d have to wait so long to come back and even then, Momma still wouldn’t be here. As the two adults packed up the last of the boxes in the fancy rental car, you slipped away into your Momma’s office at the back of the first story. You slide open the doors, expecting to see her at her desk, working on her latest story like you’d done so many times before, but this time, an empty room and silence greets you.

You enter her office and hop into the big revolving chair, her favorite perfume still lingering from the morning of your birthday. You look at the desk and find something that takes your breath away: her favorite gold ink pen. One day, you’d asked her why your last name was Gould and she’d told you that your family came from a long line of goldsmiths who once made jewelry and other small things for rich people. Momma’s Daddy still worked with metal, even after the family practice was shut down, and when she said she was going to become a writer, he made her a gold ink pen to bring her good luck. You pick it up, looking at the beautiful design, and begin to tear up.

She carried it everywhere she went, so seeing it here cements the fact that she’s not coming back. Maybe if she wasn’t in a big hurry that morning, she would’ve remembered to take it with her and the accident never would’ve happened. And she’d still be here with you.

“Y/N,” the Sheriff says as he enters the office. “We finished packing everything. Are you ready to go?”

You want to say no and refuse to leave, but you know that you can’t stay here. You quietly pocket the pen and follow him to the car, where Alfred waits for you.

“Alright, son, be good for Mr. Pennyworth here. Do what he says and be a good boy like your momma taught you.” He gives you a hug and you wish it would never end, because then you’d never have to leave your home. “You’ll be back before you know it, and your home will be here waiting for you.”

A with that, you get into the car with Mr. Pennyworth and begin the drive to the airport. You use the mirror to see your house one last time, seeing it get smaller and smaller until it’s out of sight.

“I know this is sudden after the loss of your mother, but I promise Master Bruce and I will do everything we can to make Wayne Manor a home for you.”

“What’s it like?”

“The manor? It’s a large estate with a long and storied history that dates back to the early days of Gotham. There’s plenty of rooms for you to explore.”

“And what about my Daddy? What’s he like?”

“Master Bruce is a skilled businessman and one of Gotham’s biggest socialites. He’s also the adoptive father of Masters Dick and Jason.”

“He already has kids? Would they be my brothers?”

You’d heard of several of your classmates having older and younger siblings and had thought about having a brother or a sister. What would it be like to carry around someone younger than you or be care for by someone older than you.

“Master Dick would be your older brother, but he’s now living at the manor right now. He’s off finding himself right now, but I have no doubt that he’ll be back one day.”

“What about Jason?”

Mr. Pennyworth frowns at your words and you feel afraid that you’ve said something wrong.

“Master Jason would be your older brother, as well, but he was taken from us. With any luck, he and your mother have met one another.”

Oh…

“When did he go to heaven?”

“He left us a few months ago, but it feels just like yesterday.”

And with that, the talk is over. You two arrive at the airport and after the butler returns the rental car, he guides you to the gate where a private jet awaits the two of you. You can’t help but be amazed that you’re riding in a private jet that looks so much better than the ones you’ve seen on tv. You sit in one of the seats and it’s way softer than your bed.

“Master Y/N, we’re getting ready for takeoff,” the butler says as he puts his seatbelt on. “Put your seatbelt on.”

You do as you’re told and before you know it, you feel the jet begin to move. You hurry to look out the window to see everything moving past before the jet begins to fly. You stare out the window, watching Nevada, the state you’ve called home, get smaller and smaller until you’re above the clouds, unable to see anything, even the massive buildings of the Strip, which could be seen for miles.

It’s then you realize that this is real, that you’re leaving everything you’ve ever known and won’t be back for years and tears begin to fall from your face. You’ve spent the last few days crying so much that you’d think that you’d think that you would run out of tears, but apparently not. Not wanting to disturb Mr. Pennyworth, you face the window and bite your lower lip to stop making noises.

Somehow the flight seemed to be both long lasting and not long enough, because eventually, you saw a city show up below you. You squint your eyes to get a better look through the smog and see many tall buildings, all of the having those scary stone creatures you saw on a movie once.

“Welcome to Gotham City, Master Y/N.”

A/N: I’m hoping to make this a series that sees somewhat regular updates, but don’t quote me on that. I’ve been getting back into Resident Evil and I look up Yandere Batfamily stuff on this site so much it’s not even funny. Sorry if the first chapter was so long, but I thought if the first chapter was long enough, people would forgive me if future chapters are a bit lacking. Also, this series is heavily influenced by several of my favorite users, like @acid-ixx , @gotham-daydreams , @luludeluluramblings , and @darkstaria . You should totally check them all out.

[thelonelyshore-if]

How the ros would act if they were going to have a baby with mc? Sierra and Willow would have a niece to pamper

Oooooh interesting! Answers below the cut <3

Beck- is not ready to be a parent, will never be fully ready to be a parent, but if being a parent was imminent and unavoidable, they'd try to hype themself up the best they could! They'd try their best to be a 'cool parent'. They'd be a bit too permissive and a bit too lax with their kid, but they'd also be a fun parent. Could balance well with MC, depending. They would think it's kind of fun to have a little buddy. Probably would be more confident once the baby was older.

Croft- also does NOT want to ever be a parent. They don't like kids as a rule. But, once again, if it seemed they were going to be a parent, they'd do their best to step up. They'd end up being a bit of a distant and awkward parent, but would be ultimately loving. I think they'd be a better parent of a teenager than a baby ngl--they'd be veeeerrryy awkward with a baby or toddler lol--but would throw themself into researching parenting as much as physically possible.

Jay- doesn't feel ready to be a parent now, but if it happened they'd honestly get pretty damn excited pretty fast. They want to be a parent someday, and if they and MC were expecting a baby, they'd be very excited!! And Cricket would absolutely be psyched, haha. That all being said.........Jay would struggle with balancing their job and the S&R team and a baby. They'd be utterly doting and loving, and would be a very warm and affectionate parent, but wouldn't want to give up the (admittedly very dangerous) S&R team in particular.

Perri- would be a nervous wreck ngl. They aren't opposed to parenting someday, and would even be really excited after some time, but that wouldn't stop the fact that they'd be terrified. The adults in their own life were vastly not the best, and Perri doesn't have a lot of confidence in themself, but honestly they'd be a good parent. They'd get really into decorating, and once the baby was born they'd loooove to have a lil baby to hang out with and take care of.

Ravi- pretty shocked and unsettled and scared, to be honest. He's fascinated with the idea of parenting, but he's also pretty sure he'd do a bad job at it. Though I think he'd surprise himself once the baby was actually born. He's very patient, and would actually be great with a baby. I mean. He'd be a weird parent lmao, but a very loving and responsible one. Would bring the baby in a baby wrap to funerals and wouldn't think there was anything weird about that lmao.

Yasmin- would be psyched. It isn't something she's actually interested in right now, but if it happened, she'd get pretty excited. She'd be a killer mom, too. She'd get big into decorating and buying clothes especially. While she's happy being childless currently, she'd get into it. Future PTA mom no questions asked. She'd love bringing the baby to the library and would buy a billion books for the kid.

[izzy-b-hands]

Memorial icon change to Tits Out Izzy. Would he appreciate it? Potentially, but he'd also still probably call me a twat for it (and I would be honoured 🖤❤️)

[after-nine-at-the-oasis]

happy new year 🥰🥰🥰

[orcelito]

man emotional vulnerability's so fucked lol like ive told a few ppl at work that my cat died & theyve all been like "oh my god that's so awful, im so sorry" etc etc & like Yea it's nice to have the condolences, but a part of me feels like im faking it for attention. then im like. uh. dude. ur cat really did die. ur not lying about this one bit.

tbh i sorta feel like if i wasnt there for the euthanasia & seeing him dead, i wouldnt believe it was really true. Even Then i keep having to remind myself.

shit's weird.

[suiana]

(yandere! corpse husband x gn! reader) (slight yan! male best friend too)

"and today, we are gathered to send off the late mr-"

you stand by his coffin, sobbing pathetically as your male best friend pats your back reassuringly. just a few days ago, your husband unfortunately died after you sat on his face. you hadn't wanted to! but how could you say no to him after he begged so cutely?

doctors said he died a pleasurable death, i mean, you could see it from his face when he died. and the fact that he exploded everywhere and it was all over his pants.

but you wish he hadn't died. you really loved him. you did. even if he was... slightly weird.

"he was my everything! now i don't even have his dick anymore! what am i supposed to do?!"

"hey hey... it's alright. let it all out..."

your best friend mutters, rubbing your shoulder as you sob into his chest. his hands run across the fabric of your shirt, tenderly reassuring you. if you pulled away a bit, you'd probably be able to see the way he had a smirk on his face.

"he'd probably want you to move on anyway... be happy with someone else."

"um, excuse me bro? what are you doing telling my spouse to move on?"

all goes quiet as your supposedly dead husband sits up, eyebrows furrowed as he glares directly at your best friend.

"like actually, I'd want them to be stuck on me until the day their physical flesh body dies so we can be together for eternity. we'd intertwine our star dust and merge our ascended souls into one so we'd never be apart again and-"

he rambles slightly, gritting his teeth as he continues to glare at your male best friend. you pull away from him immediately, standing still as you face your now... reanimated husband?

"honey? you're alive?"

your husband turns his gaze to you, soulless eyes now full of life as he tries clambering out of his casket. the funeral attendees all scream in horror at the sight, a fiasco taking place as your corpse husband approaches you with slowed movements.

"babe..? oh my love! come here! ah... you should sit on my face again- I don't think i can die again anyway..."

he coos at you, hands trying to grab at you as you make calculated movements to approach him. damn the embalmer did a good job... you're sure you'd be screaming too if there wasn't an embalmer.

"ah... i love you so much... i love you, really. you'd never move on from me right? you love me and only me. don't listen to that asshole over there. I'll fucking haunt your soul if you tried leaving me."

your dead(?) husband mutters, hugging you tightly against his chest. you feel his fingers dig into your skin, gripping you so tightly as though he were trying to tear into your skin.

"o-oi you're holding me too hard-"

"ah, apologies my dear."

he mutters, reluctantly releasing his grip before his hands trail over your frame before landing on your cheeks. you shiver slightly, the cold hands cupping your face before you grimace as he opens his mouth right in your face again.

"i love you so much, let's kiss-"

"ugh, your breath stinks."

"oh... sorry..."

he shoves a mint in his mouth, slowly chewing before choking and collapsing on the ground, unmoving.

...

did you just witness your husband die again?

[iamumbra195]

School Bus Graveyard incorrect quotes because I'm bored

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Taylor: Look how creepy it is looking down this hallway.

Ashlyn: I'm gonna get vertigo.

Aiden: I'm a Virgo!

Tyler, deadpan: No, you're a virgin.

...

Aiden: You lying, cheating, piece of shit!

Tyler: Oh yeah? You’re the idiot who thinks you can get away with everything you do. WELCOME TO THE REAL WORLD

Aiden: I’m leaving you, and I’M TAKING ASHLYN WITH ME

Logan, picking up the monopoly board: I think we’re gonna stop playing now.

...

Taylor: Why is Tyler so upset?

Logan: He took one of those “Which Character Are You?” quizzes

Taylor: And...?

Logan: He got Aiden.

...

Ashlyn: What did you do with the phantom's body?

Aiden: What didn’t I do with the body?

Everyone:

Aiden: Okay, that sounded more sexual than I intended. I disposed of the phantom respectfully.

...

Aiden: Here’s a fun Christmas idea. We hang mistletoe, but instead of kissing, you have to FIGHT whoever else is under it.

Logan: Aiden, no.

Ben, with text to speech: Mistlefoe.

Logan: Please stop encouraging him.

...

Taylor: Who thinks I can fit 15 marshmallows in my mouth?

Tyler: You’re a hazard to society

Aiden: And a coward. DO TWENTY.

...

Emma, trying to be nice to Ashlyn's new friends: Would you like to stay for dinner?

Mike, excited for his daughter: WOULD YOU LIKE TO STAY FOREVER?

...

Logan: What's a word thats a mix between 'sad' and 'mad'?

Ben: Disgruntled, miserable, desolated-

Aiden: Smad.

...

Ashlyn: Why are you on the floor?

Aiden: I'm depressed.

Aiden: Also I was stabbed, can you get Ben, please.

...

Taylor: Aiden and I were crossing the street, and this dude drove by and honked at us

Ashlyn, sighing: What did he do?

Taylor: he chased him to the next red light, then reached into his window and...

Aiden: Who wants a steering wheel?

...

Aiden: If I accidentally sat on a voodoo doll of myself, would I be trapped forever in that position, doomed to starve to death?

Logan: How am I supposed to know?

Tyler: You say that as if we don’t use you as a source of knowledge of the occult.

Logan: ...You wouldn't be trapped.

...

Ashlyn: Tyler, keep an eye on Aiden today. He's going to say something to the wrong person and get punched.

Tyler: Sure, I’d love to see him get punched.

Ashlyn: Try again.

Tyler, sighing: I will stop Aiden from getting punched.

...

Aiden, holding a python: Guys I impulsively bought a snake, what do I name him

Tyler: You did WHAT–

Ben: William Snakespeare

...

Ashlyn: Dandelions symbolize everything I want to be in life

Taylor: Fluffy and dead with a gust of wind?

Ashlyn: Unapologetic. Hard to kill. Feral, filled with sunlight, bright, beautiful in a way that the conventional and controlling hate but cannot ever fully destroy. Stubborn. Happy. Bastardous. Friends with bees. Highly disapproving of lawns. Full of wishes that will be carried far after I die.

Aiden: edible

...

Taylor, whispering to Aiden, who’s on the phone with Ashlyn: Ask her something!

Aiden: How are you feeling?

Ashlyn: Fine.

Taylor: Something personal!

Aiden: At what age did you start hearing voices?

...

Aiden: If I die, my funeral is going to be the biggest party ever and you’re all invited

Logan: If?

Tyler: Great, the only party I’d actually go to and he might not even die.

...

Logan: We need a distraction.

Ashlyn: Is anyone here good at jumping up and down and making weird noises?

Aiden, whispering: My time has come

...

Tyler: Where are you going?

Taylor: To get ice cream or commit a felony, I’ll decide on the way there

Tyler: I'll come with

...

Mike, buying a whole bag of knives, guns and other weapons like he's going to war on a random Tuesday: I can explain

Jacob (shop owner): Can you?

Mike: If you give me thirty seconds to think of a lie.

...

Taylor: Heads up, if you try to make a candle with food colouring, it will just sink to the bottom of the glass, and when the flame eventually reaches the bottom all the food colouring will catch fire and become one giant tall flame that you cannot possibly blow out and the glass will start to crack and then you'll throw your tea on it in a panic and then the extremely hot food colouring will boil and sizzle horribly and then the glass will shatter.

Tyler, sighing: What did you do?

Taylor, wailing: A MISTAKE

...

Mr. Thomas: What are your goals?

Ashlyn: To pet all the dogs.

Mr. Thomas: No, I meant your goals for this trip.

Ashlyn: To pet all the dogs in Savannah.

...

Logan: Is letting someone win at chess sapiosexual bottoming?

Ashlyn: Does anyone in this godforsaken group ever think before they speak?

...

Taylor: Aiden isn’t answering their phone

Ashlyn: I’ll call

Taylor: Ben and I have both tried six times each, what makes you thi-

Aiden: Hello?

...

Aiden: I was arrested for being too cool.

Tyler: The charges were dropped due to a lack of supporting evidence.

...

Aiden: Jail is no fun. I’ll tell you that much

Taylor: You’ve been to jail?

Aiden: Once. In Monopoly.

...

Mike: You love me, right?

Emma: Normally, I’d say yes without hesitation, but I feel like this is going somewhere and I don’t like it.

...

Aiden: Let’s watch Sharkboy and Lavagirl.

Ashlyn: Okay

Aiden: And make out during the scary parts.

Ashlyn: The-

Ashlyn: The scary parts?

Ashlyn: Of Sharkboy and Lavagirl.

...

Ashlyn: How petty can you get?

Tyler: I once edited a Wikipedia article to win an argument I was wrong about.

Taylor: I KNEW IT-

...

Aiden: I've already sent good vibes your way… they’re coming. There’s nothing you can do to stop them.

Logan: This is the most threatening way I’ve ever been cheered up.

...

Mike: So what’s for dinner?

Emma, staring at the food she just burnt: Regret.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

That's all for today!

[inkskinned]

we heard that you were very disappointed in us both as a generation and specifically as a generation of women (emphasis yours), how we had let ourselves go and now we were slutty and ill-tempered and holding onto notions of feminism like "having a savings account" and "equality."

we were very sorry about it, we didn't realize. it is very hard for you, in your life, because your entire definition was centered around the word providing, and that's a really vague and undulating word. it is hard to be a provider. for your purposes, the word provider here can be defined as "having a job", although it sometimes also extends to "doing yard work", "grilling on occasion," and "knowing basic car anatomy."

we had to do some reading but we divided it out. do not worry. high-value women will fill in the rest of the gaps of your life - all those silly feminine things like doing the dishes. we didn't realize we had asked too much when we asked you to pick up after yourself. we did not realize you were rendered small and scared and crying about the possibility of doing the laundry. here is a joke to lighten the sentiment: a man that listens when you talk to him.

we heard about how we had fallen from glory and it sickened us and made us very, very sad. lindsey had to cut all her hair off and tara threw up. we lit one million candles and we are going to have a vigil about it tonight. all of the people in this world that you do not approve of are going to be there and we will all be in mourning colors because we have lost your respect which is of course the only thing that any of us were looking for.

we searched around our bedrooms and our closets and for some of us it took a while but we all found the pricetag that we were originally born with, the one that gave our listing offer, the one that smells like rot and pine needles. we were horrified because many of us had taken deductions and hadn't realized it. i had scraped my knees and decided to be a lesbian so they had to take my voicebox out so i could never call home again. janice had been with too many people overall so we had to put her into the big squisher that will hopefully collapse her walls so that when you're with her, you'll feel so big and powerful. it will be like you're conquering something instead of being close with someone.

we are all going to the funeral of feminism and we will tear at our bodies and fall over ourselves. we will invite you onstage for a live recording of your podcast about the occasional minor inconvenience of self-reflection. you will talk about how we have targeted you and made you feel the sweat slick down your back, and we will teach you basic self-defense out of solidarity.

do not worry, we are seeing to all the outliers. taylor asked to be taken seriously so we have shipped her off to prison. laura asked you to accept her femininity regardless of her presentation. you will be happy to hear all women are now and forever going to have to be small and thin and pretty and white and ablebodied and quiet and unassuming and ladylike, which is different than how society has previously told us to act.

i am going to have to shave off my jawline, which is a little masculine, and they are going to have to reshape my hands, which are very square and thick - all the work i've done with them has made their veins stand out, so we're just going to have to exsanguinate me. i am horrified to have been out in public like this.

we are going to sit around the campfire and we will talk about being weird little girls that made potions in pink teacups. we will talk about the first time we made a difference. we will talk about the private lives of crickets, and then, at the stroke of three in the morning (the witching hour, obviously) - we will all promptly shut up.

and this will be your beautiful world. this silence that spans every corner of every street and every zoom meeting and every alley. i do not think you'll notice at first - it will be the same as every television show and movie and book. we will all just simply sit there in our doll dresses and smile blithely at your advances and none of us will do you the dishonor of answering and none of us will appear to be in distress and none of us will nag you or make a fuss or get hysterical about it. it will just be quiet, and you will say finally, some peace for once! and we will smell of smoke and our teeth will be white and the next day will come.

tonight we are going to bury the last little bits of our humanity. you are not invited. it is going to be ugly.

[mintmatcha]

cw: exes

"So, who is it?"

The train car is empty besides you and Bakugo, but he keeps his voice down anyway. His knees are spread so far that they are right up against yours, claiming more space than he is owed.

"Who's who?" you reply.

"The one that you're interested in." He gestures to your outfit with a scoff, "Come on, we were married- I know your tricks."

Ex husband: it's still weird to think about. For five years, you took this train home together. Now, Bakugo gets off at the third stop and you get off on the fifth. You know his mother, you were there for his father's funeral, and now you don't know what the inside of his apartment looks like. Your intersecting lives are starting to drift, despite the way you both try to stay close.

"I bet you put perfume on your ankles, whore." That shocks you a bit out of your maudlin thoughts. You smack him with the back of your hand and he chuckles as he pushes you away.

"Are you sure you want to hear about this?" His finger still has a tan line from his wedding ring.

"I dunno," he sniffs, "Gotta talk about it at some point though."

The train inches to a stop. No one gets on, no one gets off.

"I think Sero is cute."

Bakugo snorts and scoffs, rolling his eyes with a flourish only reserved for you.

"What?" you laugh.

"Sero? Really?" He's gruff as usual, trying to be unaffected and succeeding, "I dunno, I just thought you liked..."

"Meatheads?" you tease.

"People who act like me."

The train takes off, smears of neon light flickering as you pass through the city. It's the same as it ever was, yet always different, always changing. "I need something different."

Bakugo breathes in through his nose, an inverse sigh. His jaw is set hard, eyes loyal to the facade. You almost believe he's unaffected until he reaches over and pats your thigh, the touch lingering just a moment too long.

"We were good, though. When it lasted," he says.

"We were," you agree, placing your hand over his. "I think we're good now too."

He nods. The divorce was mutual, the final straw after months of screaming matches and broken hearts. When you first took off your ring, you never thought you could bear to look Katsuki in the face again, but today, as friends, you meet his eye.

Bakugo softens for a second, a smile pulling at the corners of his lips, but he returns to his normal self.

"I'll put out feelers for you," he says softly, "To see if Sero's interested."

Your stomach tightens and you're not sure if it's good or bad. "Thanks."

Bakugo hooks an arm over your shoulder and pulls your head into him. He still smells like vanilla and pepper, that stupid cologne you bought him last anniversary. When he presses a kiss into your temple, it almost feels like it did in the beginning, before the fall.

"I just want you to be happy, baby," Katsuki whispers.

The train starts to roll into its third stop of the night.

"Just sucks that we weren't happy together."

[stitched-mouth-vs-the-world]

Edge You To Death

Pairing: Undertaker x AFAB! Reader or Undertaker x Fem! Reader.

Summary: Undertaker loves ruining your orgasms.

Warnings: NSFW, Smut, Casual sex, Undertaker and Reader have a weird ‘situationship’, Age gap relationship, Mention of pedophila (not in reference to Undertaker! UT is not a pedo!), Reader is unaware Undertaker is a reaper or of what he does for Ciel, Reader has MY personal thoughts on pedophila (I don’t think they are controversial but just in case you don’t wanna here it skip the introduction), Oral sex (fem receiving), Edging, Daddy kink.

Writing Time: 1 hour.

Word Count: 1,317.

Format: Kinktober Fic, Day 20.

A/N:

I kinda forgot wtf I was doing here.

Most of my Kinktober works were written well in advance, but this wasn’t one of them. I wrote this 2 days before it was due. My requests are pilling up but I should start prioritising these now. I doubt I’ve gotten that Matthew Patel request done yet, I planned to do that when I got the requester’s first message about it, sent the same day I got the request, but not anymore. Sounds a lot like a request got ages ago on my previous account but deleted when I started feeling harassed by the requester. This is more for the Matthew Patel requester than anyone else but yeah… don’t harass people about requests especially if it hasn’t been that long since you sent it. Everyone, harass me over a request and I’ll just delete it. You can send one reminder after a week and that’s it. Anymore and I delete. I usually have requests done in a week or two and those kinds of messages just destroy my motivation.

Anyway! Please enjoy this Undertaker smut.

Here are my other Kinktober 2023 works.

—-///—-

You had been feeling dam good since you started sleeping with the Undertaker.

You had new relationship jitters, even if it wasn’t really a relationship. He was what you had fantasied about for years. An older gentleman who was kind and treated you like a Queen, but also open about wanting to ravishing you. With his age also came along a lot of life and sexual experience, a lot more than you had. He never mocked you for knowing less than him, he was just happy you wanted to know and happily taught you a lot.

Whilst age gap relationships have always been common and considered normal prior to the Victorian era, it was slowly becoming distasteful. Something many were unhappy with but also many other who were happy. Undertaker, years ago, would have been in favour this but with you now… he was in the middle and uncomfortable with it. Surely you and his relationship was ok because you was definitely an adult.

You were pretty set in stone on the matter. To you, age gap relationships were bad, unless it was you. You were a young woman who would never say no to an older man, even when you was a girl. You knew your exes were absolutely pedos, but you didn’t care as long as it was just you they were after. And no you didn’t consider yourself a victim.

You didn’t think of Undertaker in the same way though. You was an adult when you met him therefore wasn’t bad for perusing you. Well, you perused him but it didn’t matter.

Right know you was doing some dusting in the front of Undertaker’s shop, he was in the back. The first thing you took notice of when you first met your lover… was how nasty his shop is. It’s always covered in dirt and stinked of death. Obviously it would smell of death, it’s a funeral home, but the dirt was unnecessary and you was surprised that Undertaker had tried to do something about the smell. You figured he’s probably gotten used to it now and gone nose blind.

Once you had cleaned to a satisfying amount, you heard the bell go. You looked up and saw the familiar Earl Phantomhive and his butler. The young boy always looked so dam miserable, it depressed you. You didn’t like interacting with either of them and they never seemed to want your help, so you called your bedmate.

Undertaker came into the room, happy to deal with the Phantomhive and his butler. You was aware the two engaged in a different kind of business than coffins or funeral services, but it was none of your business what their business was. So you wasn’t going to ask…

Instead you headed out of the room and upstairs to bed, it was late and you knew Undertaker would join you after he was done with his ‘business’.

—-///—-

“Sort out the Earl?” You asked.

“Yes, Dear.” Undertaker smiled as he climbed into his bed, next you.

You sat up immediately and glared at him, “How many times have I told you Undie?! No sleeping in your day clothes!”

He laughed as you pushed him out of his own bed. Yeah, Undertaker had a bad habit of sleeping in his day clothes. He didn’t own PJs until you came into his life, nearly a year ago now.

“Ok! Ok!” Undertaker walked over to his drawers to fish out his sleepwear.

Once he did, he placed them on the end of the bed and looked down at you. You gave him a small smile, suddenly remembering this was his home and his bed and who are you say anything about how he sleeps? After all, you’re not even dating.

Undertaker grinned widely at you and slowly started removing his cloak. Ah, he was trying to indicate something.

He slowly stripped completely in front of you before getting back on the bed and crawling onto you. You kissed his lip gently and took hold of his arms, but Undertaker shook your hold off his arms and grabbed your face to pull you even closer to him, deeping your kiss. He quickly slipped his tongue into your mouth, desperate for a makeout session.

You moaned in between the kisses, you were started to feel a growing sensation in between your legs. If not dealt with quickly, it would become uncomfortable. Luckily for you, Undertaker could sense your arousal and was more than willing to help.

He let go of your lips and before you could even whine or complain, he was pulling the duvet and sleep shorts down and licking your lower regions. You made your hands comfortable, pulling on the pillow under your head and proped up your legs and planted your feet into the bed.

Undertaker ate you out like a mad mad. Sucking, licking, spitting and groaning like crazy. Your pussy and it’s sweet smell made him act unusual, way less calm and in control than usual. This was something you was proud of. You had the power (or pussy) to make Undertaker lose all composure.

You started to feel less prideful about your achievement as you started to feel yourself losing to Undertaker’s tongue. Your whimpered had become cries and moans, you begged him for release but you should of known better. It would be a long while before you got that.

Undertaker grinned evily against your cunt then looked up you, just go get a glimpse of your flustered expression. Having wait himself for release was a sacrifice he was willing to make if he got to see you cry and beg him for climax. He absolutely got a weird power trip from it.

“Oh please… oh please Daddy, I need to cum now!”

“Nu uh uh! You don’t get to cum until I say so, Dearie!”

You were still staring up at the ceiling and unable to look down, but you didn’t need to look down to know Undertaker was wearing his usual evil wicked grin. He always had that look when he was planning to edge you to death.

[oh-no-its-bird]

Normal 'Izuna survives' au but he gets isekaid into canon founders era and doesn't notice for a week (everyone is convinced he's a ghost)

He literally lives in the same house as Madara but Madara acts like this is normal bc hes been hallucinating so this is clearly just another hallucination

He only realizes smthn is wrong with Tobirama sees him and immediatley goes "what the FUCK" and suddenly everyone is going "oh god you can see him too????"

Izuna is on a quest to convince people he's not a hallucination (it's a losing battle)

Realistically tho, in that era, wouldn't it be more believable that Izuna is a ghost / somehow came back to life than fucking dimension travel?

Cearly the ghost of Izuna just doesn't realize hes died (common enough in ghost lore)

Tobirama is the only one who believes Izuna bc he has the brain cells to think ab dimension travel / time and space jutsu

POV Madara starts to convince Izuna he's actually a ghost. Maybe... he did die? And he just doesn't remember?? Oh god is he a ghost??? Is he dead????

Tobirama is standing by watching this shit happen with a look of disgust on his face (I'm sorry Tobi the stupidity is genetic)

Madara really said gaslight gatekeep girlboss, starting with yourself first

@beatriceportinari :

hashirama is trying to be compassionate and get him to move on and izuna just. stays there (bc he's not a ghost)

hsrm so desolate abt it

tbrm he won't move on 😦 what if he's stuck forever 😦

SORRY IM JUST PICTURING LIKE HASHIRAMA AND MADARA DOING A FULL EXORCISM LIKE OUTFITS AND SAGE BURNING AND HITTING THE DRUMS AND ALL AS IZUNA STANDS IN THE MIDDLE OF THEM LIKE 🧍‍♂️

Tobirama is standing nearby watching this shit happen fully aware Izuna isn't dead but no one will listen to him so !!! Might as well watch the show

@fashionredalert :

Izuna standing there like

Tweak it slightly to turn it into a happy ending where they get to keep him bc he eventually has to go back home: there was no dimension travel, for some reason he survived or was revived (zetsu interference gone wrong?? Or right ig, for Izuna)

IT LOOKS LIKE HES WAITING PATIENTLY FOR IT TO WORK PLS

@mengfm :

He fr came back to life/survived but everyone's convinced he's a ghost and are trying to lay him back to rest

The idea of people trying to re bury him is so funny. Left and right he’s trying to avoid having funeral rights just said to him

@beatriceportinari :

PLS YESS

montage where they make him lay down in a coffin and he's just laying there fidgeting like "this feels weird is it working yet"

noooo asdfghjh he's letting them do it'

maybe i should be dead yeah' izuna!!!

@mengfm :

"No I saw you die"

"Ok convincing argument I guess" -Izuna, apparently

@fashionredalert :

I know there’s that trope about the Uchiha burning the bodies with funeral rites could you image…Bro having to run away from Madara trying to burn him alive to lay him to rest again

@mengfm :

IZUNA GET ON THE FUNERAL PYRE

ITS TIME TO BURN!!!

@fashionredalert :

Izuna running through the village with rope ties around his hands as he runs

ZUNA STOP SCREAMING AND LET THE FIRE DO ITS JOB

"IZUNA COME BACK!!"

THEY TRY TO DO IT BUT IZUNA GETS TWITCHY AS THE FLAMES DRAW CLOSER THEN JUMPS OFF THE PIRE

"NO I CHANGED MY MIND"

"THIS IS FOR YOUR OWN GOOD"

Madara is chasing Izuna through the streets with a lit torch as Izuna screams about wanting to try a different way and Madara screams about how it'll work if he just STAYS STILL

@instant-bull :

(Hashirama looks out his window and asks Tobirama if he just saw Izuna running through the streets and Tobirama tells him to stop making shit up to get out of work)

@mengfm :

JSDNJNFSDJNSDFKSNDJF HASHIRAMA THIS WON'T SAVE YOU FROM THE PAPERWORK

That’s just a lack of sleep hallucination back to work!!!

@instant-bull :

Madara trying to burn his brother alive isn’t real!

"You'll get used to them" Tobirama waved his hand, the years of insomnia experience making him sound particularly knowledgable

@mengfm

Hashirama’s already moukoton scrambled brain is going to feel even more insane. This is not helping his sanity

@instant-bull

Hashirama starts to believe he sees into some alternate timeline or the past or whatever that shit was

HASHIRAMA ON HIS OWN INSANITY KICK BELIEVING HE CAN SEE INTO ALTERNATE TIMELINES

The ending is literally just Tobirama hitting everyone over the head with a rolled up newspaper and yelling that they're all stupid, going "HES alive. YOURE not hallucinating. and YOU can not see into other dimensions!"

Only sane person in Konoha

(Then in the epilogue he goes home and has his own regular hallucinations of his dead brothers)

Parts of todays AU are brought to u with the help of @instant-bull @mengfm @fashionredalert and @beatriceportinari, everyone say thank you to them

[chefkids]

Feel like it’s impossible to continue to ship them after that cold open with Carmy thinking about her at 5am. If he’s in love with Sydney he doesn’t know it - and I don’t think that’s even a thing. I don’t see how they come back from that.

Claire is not Carmy's future. She's "Wednesday".

Being in denial about feelings and trying to repress them is definitely a thing. And if there's one thing Carmy has ever consistently done is be in denial and suppress. Like he did with Mikey, the NYC Chef trauma, his mother's alcoholism, Sydney when she quit etc. Part II was all about Carmy using Claire to avoid the restaurant/Sydney, even when we saw him being riddled with panic attacks every time he was with Claire. He was trying to make Claire his present/future but every time it kept pulling him back to his past. Part III was all Carmy trying to mentally rewrite his relationship with Claire and conveniently ignoring all the weird times and the panic attacks. Carmy does not think about happy times with Claire to feel happy. He thinks about them to stay in his cold pit of despair and to keep himself from moving on and accepting amusement or enjoyment in his life again. He's addicted to thinking about Claire like he's addicted to cigarettes. Both were not good for him and "a waste of time", and he "quit" both of them but he continues to think about them all the time because he is a self-destructive person.

That long scene with Claire that he thought of at 5 am established several things. Primarily that Carmy is still in "Wednesday", both the literal day that it took place but as a concept. He's stuck in the past with Claire. Frozen in time. He says he used to love Wednesday's as a kid, just like he used to love Claire. Now Sydney is just trying to get past Wednesday, while Carmy tries to avoid thinking about his legacy and the future.

His least favorite day is Sunday because the restaurant is closed and he has nothing to do and he can't turn off the "buzz" at night. Conveniently the only day he doesn't see Sydney. And it's also what Sydney lied about in order to get him to give her a job at The Beef. Then after thinking of Sunday's, Claire noticed his heart was beating really fast, in a seemingly calm situation. Buzzing one might even say.

Then they talk about his hand scar from grabbing a hot pot. He really grabbed it and it's really deep, but he wasn't paying attention. In the very first episode when Sydney arrives, he's arguing with Richie and grabs a really hot pot and burns his hand. Syd is a hot pot that he hasn't been paying attention to and that is going to leave a very deep scar on him once she leaves him.

Claire tells him a story about the girl who came into the ER on the 4th of July with a bunch of cuts, and that she almost killed her by not paying attention to her chart, but when she woke up from surgery she didn't even feel pain because it hurt so much that it didn't hurt at all yet. Then in that same episode Carmy cuts his hand and Sydney walks by, then she cuts her hand after telling him he is not communicating or paying attention. A small cut to the many that he has been adding to his relationship with Sydney. That scene remembering Claire was about how he is hurting people and himself but can't stop because he doesn't feel it yet, because he is frozen in the past, and despite his denial, he still can't "turn off" the buzz of Sydney from his head.

In Apologies after Sydney left him when he realized he was thinking about her while making a dish and starting to allow amusement/enjoyment back in his life by asking Syd to come to Ever, he went back into the fridge to distract himself by thinking about Claire again the same way he did when he was trapped in the fridge, to try to turn off the "buzzing" from Sydney.

Natalie had a similar early morning blue light flashback about her own unresolved issues, thinking about Marcus's mom's funeral and Donna. But by the end of the season we see that she has made peace with her past and Donna and has moved forward with being a mother.

How does Carmy move on from a Claire obsessed season? He faces her reality and what his relationship was her was actually like, not just a highlight reel. He might feel guilt but does he actually want to even be with her again? Doesn't seem like she does based on her conversation with the Fak's.

How does the show establish his feelings for Sydney have always been there? He actually explains to Syd why he wanted her as his partner at the end of Part I, why he was avoiding her/why he thought he could make his feelings for her go away by being with Claire in Part II, and why he was not letting Claire go in Part III and not letting himself feel amusement or enjoyment with her. The same way he explained why he wanted to build a restaurant with Mikey, why he avoided grieving him, and how he accepted the reality of the situation at the end of the end of Part I at al anon and the same way he opened up to her under the table to her in Part II. He is capable of using his words when he really wants to. Losing Claire might have put him in a funk, but if he loses Sydney? Everyone around him is going to be painfully aware of how much she actually means to him compared to Claire. Cause that guy could barely stay alive after she quit the first time. Mikey and Sydney are the only two people Carmy has ever made plans with for the future.

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Children Shouldn't Play With Dead Things | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual ? )

Warnings: canon gore, canon violence, discussing parental death, coping with grief

Word Count: 4540

A/N: Happy Juneteenth, my lovebugs!

Mobile Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

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 You were barely clinging to consciousness in the backseat as the brothers’ bickering acted as a bizarre lullaby. Sam insisted on going to visit his mother’s grave following his father’s death, but Dean was— as always— stubbornly skeptical. You were, as usual, just along for the ride. 

When you did finally arrive at the site of Mary’s grave, Dean refused to go within a fifty-yard radius of her headstone. When you asked him why, he refused to answer. 

“Wait, (Y/N/N), look,” he said, gesturing to a tree with a perfect circle of dead grass around a grave right next to it. 

“Huh,” you replied, stooping down to the dead flowers laid on the gravestone. “What’re your thoughts?”

“I don’t know, but I think I’m gonna talk to the groundskeeper and find out.” With that, he walked away from you and over to a man who was tending the graves. You headed over to Sam and noticed he was burying John’s dogtags in the spot next to his mother’s grave.

“That’s really sweet,” you told him, and he looked up at you with teary eyes. “Hey, I know this is a bad time, but I think we got something.”

He tilted his head in confusion.

“I know, I know, weird coincidence, but come look.” You showed him over to the circle of dead grass. 

He just furrowed his brows at it as Dean walked back up to you. “Angela Mason,” Dean explained. “She was a student at the local college; funeral was three days ago.”

The three of you began to walk back to the car. “And?” Sam questioned.

“And? You saw her grave,” you said. “You don’t think that’s a little weird?”

“Maybe the groundskeeper went a little agro with the pesticide,” the brunet shrugged.

Dean shook his head. “No, I asked him. No pesticide, no chemicals. Nobody can explain it.”

“Okay, so what are you thinking?”

“I don’t know,” his brother responded. “Unholy ground, maybe?”

“Un—” Sam stopped himself, speechless.

“What? If something evil happened there, it could easily poison the ground. Remember the- the farm outside of Cedar Rapids?” Dean continued. “Could be the sign of a demonic presence. Or the Angela girl's spirit, if it's powerful enough.”

Sam nodded and turned away. 

“Well, don't get too excited, you might pull something,” Dean deadpanned.

“It's just,” Sam began, “stumbling onto a hunt? Here, of all places?”

You shrugged. “So?”

“So—” Sam turned to his brother, “—are you sure this is about a hunt, and not about something else?”

Dean was immediately on the defensive. “What else would it be about?”

Sam sighed and went to duck into the Impala. “You know, just forget about it.”

“Sam, I have no connection to this whole thing, and I think it’s worth checking out,” you protested.

“Yeah, fine,” Sam grumbled, getting into the car.

***

You and the Winchesters went to speak to the deceased’s father next. The tension in the room had been high as the brothers subtly digged at one another; their feelings on the case began to seep through into their words while they talked to the professor. Something you found interesting was the man’s ancient Greek textbook, and the fact that he taught a course on ancient Greece. 

Dean and Sam were bickering as soon as you got back to their motel room.

“I'm telling you, there's something going on here. We just haven't found it yet.”

“Dean, so far you've got a patch of dead grass and nothing.”

“Well, something turned that grave into unholy ground.”

Sam scoffed. “There's no reason for it to be unholy ground. Angela Mason was a nice girl who died in a car crash. That's not exactly vengeful spirit material. You heard her father.”

“Yeah, well, maybe Daddy doesn't know everything there is to know about his little angel, huh?” Dean suggested.

“You know what? We never should have bothered that poor man. We shouldn't even be here anymore,” Sam argued.

“Boys, quit it!” you tried, but Dean talked right over you.

“So what, Sam? What, we just bail? Without even figuring out what's going on?”

Sam’s voice softened. “I think I know what's going on here. It's the only reason I went along with you this far.”

“What are you talking about?” Dean scoffed.

“This is about Mom's grave.”

Dean glared. “That's got nothing to do with it.”

“You wouldn't step within a hundred yards of it. Look, maybe you're imagining a hunt where there isn't one so you don't have to think about Mom. Or Dad,” Sam continued.

Dean turned to look at him, his face angry. 

“You wanna take a swing?” Sam sighed. “Go ahead, if it'll make you feel better.”

Dean shook his head and grabbed his keys and jacket. “I don't need this crap.”

“Dean, where are you going?” you asked, following him.

“I'm going to go get a drink. Alone.”

Your feelings were slightly hurt, but you understood. You allowed him his space and backed off immediately. 

***

Dean called you the next morning, waking you up at around six in the morning. “Dee?” you rasped, rubbing your eyes. “Why are you up this early?” You sat up, suddenly snapping to attention. “Don’t tell me you’re still out—”

“No, (Y/N/N), I’m not,” he responded. “I’ve been working my imaginary case.”

“Dean, I never said it was imaginary. I think you’re onto something here. Don’t get snippy with me just ‘cause you’re mad at Sam,” you scolded.

He sighed. “You’re right, I’m sorry. And… I’m sorry I shut you out.”

“I get it,” you replied softly. “You needed space. That’s okay.”

He chuckled. “Thanks, Dr. Phil, but seriously. Angela’s ex-boyfriend is dead. Meet me in the room with Sam. I’ll be there in five.”

And so, you obliged, meeting him outside their motel room. When you opened the door, Sam immediately turned off the television and awkwardly looked around. 

“Hey,” he said.

You entered cautiously, glancing between Sam and the television.

“What?” he asked you and his brother.

Dean grimaced. “Awkward.”

“Where in the hell were you?” Sam questioned pointedly. 

“Well, you were right. Didn’t find much.” Dean said, glaring a little at Sam. “Except Angela's boyfriend died last night. Slit his own throat. But, you know, that's normal. Uh, let's see, what else. Oh, he was seeing Angela everywhere before he died. But you know, I'm sure that's just me transferring my own feelings.”

“Okay, I get it. I'm sorry, maybe there is something going on here,” Sam sighed.

“Maybe?” you snickered.

“Sam, I know how to do my job, despite what you might think,” Dean deadpanned.

“Did you check out the dude’s apartment?” you asked Dean.

“Pile of dead plants, just like the cemetery. Hell, dead goldfish too.”

“Great, more unholy ground,” you noted.

“Maybe. I'm still not getting that powerful angry spirit vibe from Angela.” He leaned against the dresser and held up the pink book he had in his hand. “I have been reading this, though.”

You scoffed, smiling a little. “You stole the chick’s journal?”

“Yeah. And if anything, the girl's a little too nice.” 

Sam asked, “So what do you want to do?”

“Keep digging; talk to more of her friends.”

“You get any names?” the brunet asked.

Dean smirked. “Are you kidding me? I have her bestest friend in the whole wide world.” He wiggled the diary around. 

“Okay, well, who’d you find?” you questioned.

Dean leafed through the book. “This guy Neil shows up a lot. I think he’d be a good place to start.”

“Okay. Give me, like, ten minutes,” you replied. “I just woke up when you called me.”

Dean followed you out of his and his brother’s room and back to yours.

“What’s up?” you asked, noticing he was behind you. 

“Nothin’. Just wanted to hang out with you.”

You scoffed as you closed the door behind him. “I have to change, though.”

He smirked. “Don’t stop on my account.”

“Perv.” You took your clothes and headed toward the bathroom.

“Whoa, where ya goin’?” he asked.

You turned back to him. “Dean, I just feel weird moving so fast after everything with your dad. You’re tired. I can see it. Of course, I want to be more than just friends, but I don’t think the timing is right.”

He scoffed and looked at the floor. "Don't do the same thing Sam's doing."

Your formerly understanding tone hardened. I'm not. Don't do that to me. I am the furthest thing from patronizing you right now. And it's not all about you, dude. This isn't exactly ideal conditions for a relationship. And if you're gonna get mean every time we disagree, then this is not for me."

Dean's jaw tightened, and he went to say something. However, he seemed to realize that was a bad idea. Eventually, he admitted, “I know you’re right.”

You walked back over to him and pulled his face up to look at you. “Hey, I don’t mean ‘never.’ Just… not right now. You’re still my best friend, though. That will never change.”

He relaxed into your hand and closed his eyes, sadly saying, “Yeah. You, too.”

***

You felt slightly awkward around Dean after your conversation with him. You wanted him badly, and it killed every part of you to not let yourself be close to him. However, you knew he needed time and space to recover from his father’s death.

You knew he was going to continue to struggle with that for the rest of his life just as you did with the deaths of your parents, but you also knew he would eventually find a way to cope. You just didn’t want to be more of a distraction to his healing process than hunting already was.

You could tell he was burying so much just below the surface, and it threatened to boil over at any moment. You wanted so badly to hold him and tell him everything would be okay, but you knew that would be an awful idea at that particular moment. 

You continued with the hunt as usual, though, and went to visit Angela’s best friend, Neil. He seemed a little awkward upon meeting him, but not just in the “I have trouble socializing” way. He was awkward in a way that unsettled you. What unsettled you even more was the dead plant on the table just behind him in the doorway of his home. Something interesting you’d learned from him, too, was that Angela’s boyfriend cheated on her just before her accident. 

You and the brothers walked away from Neil’s house, tossing around potential theories.

Dean began, “Well, that vengeful spirit theory's starting to make a little more sense. I mean, hell hath no fury…”

“So, if Angela got her revenge on Matt, you think it’s over?” you asked him.

“Well, there's one way to be sure.”

You got in the car and noticed Sam was looking at his brother stunned. “Burn the bones? Are you high? Angela died last week!”

“So?” Dean argued.

“So, there's not gonna be bones. There's gonna be a ripe, rotting body in the coffin.” Sam’s nose twisted in disgust.

Dean smirked. “Since when are you afraid to get dirty? Huh?”

***

When you did exhume the coffin, you and the boys were shocked to find the coffin completely empty with strange Greek lettering etched on the inside of the coffin’s lid.

Dean insisted on going to Dr. Mason’s home to confront him then and there. He figured that he would be the only person with access to an ancient Greek ritual like the one you’d found etched in Angela’s coffin. Despite yours and Sam's protesting, Dean's unbelievable stubbornness prevailed.

The older Winchester pounded on the door, incredibly agitated.

“Dean, relax,” you stated firmly. 

He didn’t look at you or give a response.

Dr. Mason opened the door and forced a smile. “You're Angie's friends, right?”

Sam began to gently say, “Dr. Mason—” when his brother cut him off harshly.

“We need to talk.”

Dr. Mason seemed surprised. You glared at Dean, hoping he would be able to feel your aggravated warning. 

You could tell the poor man was a little startled, but he still invited you inside. Dean stepped over the threshold and immediately began unfolding a paper he’d copied the Greek characters from Angela’s coffin onto. “You teach Ancient Greek. Tell me—” Dean held out the paper, “what are these?”

“I don't understand. Does this have something to do with Angela?”

“It does. Please, just humor me.”

The old man was confused. “They're part of an ancient Greek divination ritual.”

Dean’s tone never softened. “Used for necromancy, right? See, before we came over here we stopped by the library and did a little homework ourselves. Apparently they used rituals like this one for communicating with the dead. Even bringing corpses back to life. Full-on zombie action.”

Dr. Mason chuckled uncomfortably. “Yes. I mean, according to the legends. Now, what's all this about?”

He didn’t seem guilty to you, but Dean kept pushing. “I think you know.”

“Dean—” you and Sam tried, but Dean continued on.

“Look, I get it. Okay?” he spat. “There are people that I would give anything to see again. But what gives you the right?”

“Dean!” Sam scolded.

“What are you talking about?” the man stuttered out, looking between you and the brothers.

“What's dead should stay dead!” Dean growled.

“What?!”

Sam jumped in front of Dean. “Stop it!”

“What you brought back isn't even your daughter anymore. These things are vicious, they're violent, they're so nasty they rot the ground around them. I mean, come on, haven't you seen Pet Sematary?” the older brother snarled.

“You’re insane,” Dr. Mason muttered.

“Where is she?!”

Dr. Mason rushed over to his phone. “Get out of my house.”

Dean continued his pursuit. “I know you're hiding her somewhere. Where is she?!” 

You rushed in front of Dean and grabbed his jacket. “Dean! Stop it, that’s enough! Look!” You jerked him around to face the window sill with a row of plants sitting on it.

Sam turned to Dr. Mason. “We’re leaving.”

The shell-shocked professor still held the phone to his ear. “I'm calling the police.”

Dean pulled away from you and stormed toward the door.

“Sir, we're sorry. We won't bother you again,” Sam said.

You followed Dean, footsteps heavy with anger. “What the hell is wrong with you, Dean?”

“Back off,” he told you.

“Dean, he didn’t do anything! He didn’t deserve that!” you protested.

Dean huffed. “Okay, so she's not here, maybe he's keeping her somewhere else.”

“Stop it! That's enough, okay? Enough!” Sam piled on.

“Sam, I know what I'm doing,” the older brother grumbled.

“No, you don't," you responded for Sam. "At all. Dean, I don't scare easy, but man, you're scaring the crap out of me.”

The man rolled his eyes. “Don't be overdramatic, (Y/N).”

“You're lucky this turned out to be a real case. Because if it wasn't you would have just found something else to kill. You’re on edge, you’re erratic, except for when you’re hunting, ‘cause that's when you’re downright scary,” Sam stated firmly. 

“You’re tailspinning. You refuse to talk to even me about it, and you barely let me help you; let alone Sam,” you jumped back in.

“I can take care of myself, thanks,” Dean chided.

“No, you can’t,” you challenged. “And you’re the only one who thinks you should have to. You can’t handle this alone; nobody can. I couldn’t!”

Dean went to cut you off, saying, “(Y/N), if you bring my dad into this, I swear—”

“Dean, no. You’re scaring me." Your voice was still firm but had an empathetic undertone. "You’re killing yourself. I mean, I had to set boundaries with you earlier because I don’t want you to use me as a distraction. Whether you are intentionally or not, that would be what you’re doing.”

“(Y/N)—” he tried.

“No! Stop it. Quit burying your head in other shit to distract you. I’ve lost everything. I’ve lost my family. I’ve lost friends. And as much as it kills me, I’m driving a wedge between us because I don’t want to lose you. Please, Dean. Don’t make me lose you.”

Dean paused before murmuring, “We better get out of here before the cops come.”

You frowned at him.

“I hear you. Okay? I know, I'm being an ass. And I'm sorry,” he said earnestly. “But right now, we've got a fuckin’ zombie running around, and we need to figure out how to kill it.”

Sam laughed. “Our lives are weird, man.”

Dean’s tone lightened slightly. “You're telling me? Come on.”

***

Later that evening, Dean paced around his motel room while you and Sam sat at the table looking through John’s journal.

“We can't just waste it with a head shot?” Dean questioned.

“Dude. You've been watching way too many Romero flicks,” Sam quipped.

The older Winchester quirked a brow. “You're telling me there's no lore on how to smoke 'em.”

“No, he’s saying there’s too much,” you chimed in. “Every fuckin’ zombie legend has a different way to kill it.”

“Some say setting them on fire, uh, one said, where is it?” Sam paused, looking for the right page. “Right here. Feeding their hearts to wild dogs. That's my personal favorite. I mean, who knows what's real and what's myth?”

“Is there anything they all have in common?” Dean asked.

“No. But a few said silver might work,” you replied.

“Silver's a start,” he nodded.

“Yeah. But now, how are we going to find Angela?” Sam added.

“We've got to figure out the person who brought her back.”

“Any ideas?” you questioned. 

Dean considered for a moment. “I think if it's not her dad, it might be that guy Neil.”

“I agree. He had a dead plant on the table behind him in the doorway,” you chimed in.

Dean looked at you. “And you didn’t think to mention that till now?”

“Well, sorry, I’ve had more important stuff on my mind,” you replied sarcastically.

“And get this,” Dean said, picking up Angela’s pink journal. “ ‘Neil's a real shoulder to cry on, he so understands what I'm going through with Matt.’ There's more in here where that came from. It's got unrequited Duckie love written all over it.”

You giggled. “You’ve seen Pretty in Pink?”

Dean looked at you, opening and then shutting his mouth, unsure of how to respond. He went back to Neil. “Did I mention he's Professor Mason's TA? Has access to all the same books.”

You looked at Sam, who seemed pensive.

***

Your next stop was the home of Neil. The house was dark and there were no cars in the driveway. Dean picked the lock on the door, and called up the stairs, “Hello? Neil? It's your grief counselors. We've come to hug.”

You burst out laughing at Dean’s remark, and he looked down at you, smirking. He pulled out his gun and cocked it.

“Silver bullets?” you asked.

“Yeah, enough to make her rattle like a change purse.”

You started walking through the house and led the brothers over to what seemed to lead down to the basement, noticing wilted plants all along the walls. 

Dean nodded at the door to the basement. “Unless it's where he keeps his porn…”

You gave him a look and pushed the door open. “Ladies first.”

He glared at you playfully, but went down the stairs first nonetheless.

“Sure looks like a zombie pen to me,” Dean said upon seeing the dank, dark room with a thin mattress on the floor in the corner.

“Yeah. An empty one. You think Angela's going after somebody?” Sam questioned.

You walked over to a loose grate on the wall and pulled it aside. “Nah, she’s probably goin’ after Dean looking for her diary.”

“Look, smartass, she might kill someone. We gotta find her, (Y/N),” Sam remarked.

“Yeah. Alright. She, uh, she clipped Matt because he was cheating, right?” Dean jumped in. “Well, it takes two to, y’know, have hardcore sex.”

You giggled, but felt your cheeks heat up and opted for looking at the floor. 

“I don't know, it just seemed that, uh, Angela's roommate was broken up over Matt's death. I mean, like, really broken up,” Dean continued.

You sucked in air through your teeth. “Yikes.”

***

When you entered Angela’s former home, you and the brothers heard two women struggling and screaming at each other. You jumped out from behind the wall leading to the kitchen and shot at Angela, landing them squarely in the middle of her back.

Angela’s corpse convulsed and turned to face you angrily. You shot at her again, and she stuttered before running out through the kitchen window. You immediately followed her, sprinting after her for quite a while before fatigue began to catch up to you.

Her white dress became smaller and smaller before you turned to run back to the house. You met Sam and Dean back at the house’s exterior. “Fuck, that dead bitch can run.”

Dean chuckled at you. “What now, Quicksilver?”

You deadpanned at him. “Let’s go talk to Neil. After I catch my fucking breath.” ***

The best possible solution you and the brothers could come up with for killing Angela was nailing her back into her coffin. However, that required you being able to get Angela back to the cemetery. Dean said he had a plan, but you were a little skeptical. 

Neil sat in his office in the dark, seeming nervous. “What are you guys doing here?”

“You know, I've heard of people doing some pretty desperate things to get laid, but you; you take the cake,” Dean scowled.

“Okay. Who are you guys?” Neil asked.

“You might want to ask Angela that question,” Dean replied.

You could tell he knew what Dean was talking about but was trying very hard not to let that on. “What?”

“We know what you did,” you said. “The ritual? Ringing any bells?”

Neil scoffed. “You're crazy.”

“Your girlfriend's past her expiration date, and we're crazy? When someone's gone, they should stay gone. You don't mess with that kind of stuff,” Dean responded.

“Angela killed Matt. She tried to kill Lindsey,” Sam added.

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

Dean stomped over to the other side of the desk and hauled Neil up by his collar. You mentally scolded yourself for finding that attractive. “Hey! No more crap, Neil. His blood is on your hands. Now. Me and him can make this right, but you've gotta tell us where she is. Tell us!” Dean demanded.

“My house,” he rushed out. “She’s at my house.”

As Dean let him go, you followed his line of sight to dead plants beside Neil on the windowsill. “You sure about that?”

Neil nodded and looked around nervously. You nodded your head toward the closet. Dean seemed to catch on to what you were saying and subtly gave you a look. He then raised his voice slightly. “Listen. It doesn't really matter where she is. There's only one way to stop her. We've got to perform another ritual over her grave, to reverse the one that you did. We're going to need some black root, some, some scar weed, some candles... It's very complicated, but it'll get the job done. She'll be dead again in a couple hours. I think you should come with us.” Dean stared him down. “I'm serious, Neil. Leave with us. Right now.”

Neil shook his head. “No, no!”

Dean leaned into Neil and quieted down again. “Listen to me. Get out of here as soon as you can. But most of all, be cool. No sudden movements. Don't make her mad.” He nodded to you and Sam. “Let’s go.”

***

You and the brothers set up candles around Angela’s open grave, and Sam asked, “You really think this is going to work?”

Dean huffed. “No, not really. But it was the only thing I could come up with.”

You heard a noise behind you and looked to Sam, who stood and pulled his gun toward the sound. He walked hesitantly toward the sound, and you followed his retreating form till you couldn’t see him anymore.

The next time something emerged from the trees, it was Angela’s pale body, which you shot at. She stumbled back all the way to her open grave, and the last shot sent her falling back into it. Dean ran toward the grave with the metal stake he was holding and slid the last few feet on his knees. He dove into the coffin, and you kept him from completely falling in by holding his jacket. 

“Wait, no!” Angela cried as Dean plunged the metal stake through her chest and pinned her into her coffin.

You pulled Dean back up, and he looked down into the grave. “What's dead should stay dead,” he said.

You looked at him sadly, knowing what he meant by that. “Dean—”

He shook his head. “Don’t.”

You sighed and set to work reburying Angela. The whole time you buried her, you were consumed by your own thoughts surrounding what you knew Dean meant when he stabbed Angela. Sam and Dean went back and forth as they usually did about the last battles of their hunts. The brothers then wiped the dirt off their hands and moved to the car. You stood up, too, and followed them. 

Dean sighed suddenly and paused. “Sam, wait in the car, will you?” he asked, throwing the keys to his brother.

Sam seemed confused but obliged anyway and walked away from you. Once Sam was out of eyesight, Dean turned back to you. 

“What’s goin’ on?” you asked.

He looked down at his shoes, unable to meet your gaze. “I'm sorry.”

You shook your head, surprised. “Uh, for what?”

“The way I've been acting,” he continued. “It’s just… it's my fault that he's gone.”

“What are you talking about?”

Dean’s head hung low as he spoke. “I know Sam’s been thinking it; so have I. And maybe you, too. Doesn't take a genius to figure it out. Back at the hospital, I made a full recovery. It was a miracle. And five minutes later, my dad's dead, and the Colt's gone.”

You stepped toward him. “Dean—”

He looked up at you, tears in his eyes that he was trying desperately to keep at bay. “You can't tell me there's not a connection there. I don't know how the demon was involved. I don't know how the whole thing went down, exactly. But Dad's dead because of me. And that much I do know.”

“We don’t know that. Not for sure,” you protested, although you were pretty sure. You just didn’t want to affirm that for Dean and send him even further into a tailspin.

“(Y/N)—” his voice broke as he began to cry. “You, Sam, Dad... you're the most important people in my life. And now— I never should've come back, (Y/N/N). It wasn't natural. And now look what's come of it. I was dead. And I should have stayed dead.” He sniffed and tried to gain his composure. “You wanted to know how I was feeling. Well, that's it.”

You nodded, unsure of what to say. You looked up at his glassy eyes, your heart breaking.

“So tell me, what could you possibly say to make that all right?”

You bit the inside of your cheek thoughtfully and did the only thing you could think to do at the time. You wrapped your arms around his torso and pulled his head down to your shoulder. He tensed at first but eventually relaxed into you. Quiet, choked breaths wracked him, and tears began to soak your shirt. You stroked the hair at the nape of his neck and stood with him for a long while.

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld

[dyketubbo]

forgive me if i lose tubbo character analysis points (rolls eyes heavily) over this or something but i honestly dont think the date was very ooc or that the frubbo romance is going to be played as something that makes qtubbo better. obviously qtubbo gained a lot of trust issues and lost a lot of hope in others + started to strongly believe that love only hurts after purgatory and the funeral. and hes an extremely defeatist guy at heart

but he also makes exceptions because no matter how much he tries to disconnect himself he still cares so so much about others. he has such a weird fucked up view of love and justifies seeing sunny as an exception by saying they wont hurt each other because their love is unconditional and yet he also claims empanada isnt safe when bagi is around because the eye workers will use that connection to their advantage And Yet he constantly looks after and takes care of sunny anyways. even though hes already mourning her before theyve even died. even though by his own logic it may be safer for sunny to not be with him

and like.. he says dont get attached empathy makes you weak but he tries to ruin fit & pacs date so they dont abandon him. he still jokes around with them and has happy moments with them bc ultimately theyre his friends and even if they dont Really understand what hes going through or what would help him they want to be there for him and make him happy and they Do make him happy. bc qtubbo doesnt spend all of his time with his friends whining and groaning about how theyre going to leave him some day and despite being suicidal and defeatist and at times a fucking jerk that isnt his whole personality

depressed people Have happy days. they have ups and peaks in their life and yeah actually many of them do manage to have nice relationships and theres a lot of depressed people out there who are fully capable of just. not being complete downers to be around all the time (cough a lot of comedians have depression cough). if anything i would argue it isnt just in character but realistic for qtubbo to be able to just. have a normal date where hes a bit of a loser and manages to get through an actual confession

and its not like hes going all in oh we're dating and we're going to get married now bc he doesnt even consider themselves boyfriends and he turns down sunny claiming fred as another parent. he just had a happy day and it boosted his mood a little. i dont think fred is really on his list of trusted people and in fact i feel like him just being very silly and awkward during the date is a Part of him not fully trusting fred or wanting to be super serious around/with her. i think to qtubbo fred symbolizes sure some pain from the whole funeral situation but also still a lot of happier simpler times and ultimately a time where tubbo was happier and openly hopeful

if anything, tubbos relationship with fred is another form of escapism for him. of course it isnt going to make him better. he literally brought fred to him and sunnys island where they plan to live far away from everyone to avoid their problems. its all a fantasy for him, and one that he isnt even allowing himself to fully jump into but will joke about and dance around the subject of nonetheless

[hotchfiles]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ❝ [CHOICELESS HOPE] ❞ — two. one more time.

pairing: aaron hotchner x bau!reader. summary: the moment leading up to the kiss, the drumroll, is as good as the kiss itself. it's certainly more innocent. it's completely harmless. content warnings: very canon divergent because criminal minds timelines fuck me up. emotional cheating (not on reader). no happy ending (for now). angst. right person wrong time. no use of y/n. word count: 700+. a/n: me taking my least engaged fic and making a series out of it? more likely than you think. summary based on himym's victoria and her theory.

previously

    Your palms are undeniably sweaty following the anxious feeling you had in the pit of your stomach. After transferring you made a successful career as a profiler for the Crisis Negotiation Unit, so it wouldn’t be the first time seeing Hotchner after all, you saw him at seminars, you read his book, his face and his voice were still a strong presence in your mind.

    But being close to him, talking to him, working with him again… That was making your mind swirl. The BAU needed a senior profiler, again. You had rejected the transfer at least two times before and the upper ups found someone else for the job. Not this time, this time you had no choice. 

    You try to feel comfortable on his office’s couch, looking around to notice the little things before him and the rest of the team arrive, profiling each other wasn’t very well seen in the BAU, you remember that much from your years there, but you knew Hotch, you were just basking at the familiarity his office brought you. 

    Pictures of him with his son, his late ex wife, awards, piles of cases organized. It all pointed to him being more serious than when you worked together first. It made sense not only considering what he had been through, but his nearly obsessive nature. 

    Throat cleaning is the sound that brings you back, his face lighting up when he notices it’s you, but letting the smile disappear seconds later. “It’s been a while. how can I help you?” 

    Oh. Politeness. The tone. Not asking how you are. He’s mad. Possibly because you never called. Never answered his calls. Never talked to him when he was around your unit. Always sent other agents when the BAU needed negotiators. You made impossible efforts to avoid him. And yet here you were, in his office. 

    “I get that you haven’t looked into your new profiler’s paperwork.” You were always snarky and that made him huff trying to hide a laugh. He didn’t have to look at the paperwork to know you wouldn’t be there if it wasn’t mandatory. “You look good, big office, the suit. It fits you.” 

    He stays silent, and you wish you could read his mind like you did before, but it was different now, all you could read from him was how… Sore he was in your presence. Like you were there just to cut open old wounds. You couldn’t blame him, you prided yourself of being his best friend for so long and sure it was a weird gray area you both danced in, but he got divorced, was stabbed countless times, Haley was murdered, you never even called. You couldn’t even pretend you didn’t know, you kept in touch with Rossi.

    He moves to his desk, sitting and looking through your paperwork without much care, enough that he caught you staring at the picture he had of Haley, Jack and him by the bookshelf behind him. “You didn’t come to the funeral.” 

    “Dave told me to go, but… It felt disrespectful to Haley.” Hotchner takes a deep breath, it finally hitting him that at least there and then it wasn’t about avoiding him, it was about Haley, as it was when you left Quantico. He didn’t want to hurt her, you didn’t want to disrespect her, that was always the central point of why you two couldn’t be. That relaxes his demeanor, his features soften. Your heart beats faster. 

    “Think you can handle BAU rhythm after a decade away?” He smirks, that one you know so well, that one that meant trouble. And he finally looks up from the file, locking eyes with you. 

    “You should be worried about keeping up with me.” And just like that it feels like you’re ten years younger, flirting with your partner, hoping he will flirt back. And by the look he gives you, it almost seems like he would if his phone didn’t ring, getting his attention away from you in a flash of a second. 

    Got caught up, will be there soon, yeah, love you too.

    “Sorry, that was my–my girlfriend, Beth. I have to get going, see you tomorrow?” You nodded, chewing the inside of your cheek for some relief. 

    10 years. 10 years of running from it. Just to get back exactly where you started: At the BAU, heart out for Hotchner when he couldn’t take it. 

    So much for keeping your FBI career and not going against orders.

[wisteria-lodge]

I’d love if you ever expanded your thoughts on the way JKR writes romance, because it’s something I’ve been thinking about for a while. One thing that’s very interesting to me is that jealousy is used as a driving force for both of the main romantic storylines in HP. It’s more obvious with Ron/Hermione (the Yule Ball, basically everything that happens between them in book 6, the locket horcrux stuff) but also plays a big role in Harry/Ginny. Harry’s jealousy of her relationship with Dean is what makes him realize he’s into her, and moments where he’s pining for Ginny tend to focus on that jealousy more than an actual appreciation of Ginny’s personality. The most important part of writing a convincing romance is making readers believe that these characters actually care about each other and want to spend time together, and it feels like maybe what you describe as JKR’s obsession with pining made her lose sight of that. What do you think?

We've also got jealousy as a motif in Harry/Cho and Severus/Lily. It is absolutely a trope she uses, a lot. 

When I was trying to get my head around how JKR writes romance, the main thing that made it click for me was realizing that, to her - romance is inherently threatening. And/or embarrassing, overpowering, animalistic, dangerous. (thanks to @the-phoenix-heart for that line.) 

Really, the Harry Potter books are kind of a romance-free zone. It is incredibly unusual to see a romantic couple, acting like a couple, on the page. We spend a lot of time with Arthur and Molly, and while they’re both pretty fleshed out as characters, we get almost nothing of their couple dynamic (and what we do get doesn’t seem all that positive…) The blocking tends to physically separate them - Molly isn’t at the World Cup or Harry’s hearing, Arthur is working overtime when Harry is at the Burrow, etc. This is a pattern: her romantic couples, of which there are not many, have a way of being in different rooms, on different side quests, one of them is mind-controlled, one of them is unconscious, it cuts to black right before Harry kisses Cho, and right after he kisses Ginny.

Ron/Hermione takes place mostly outside of Harry’s perspective, and Harry/Ginny takes place mostly out of *the reader's* perspective. It’s a lot of narration, a lot of “Harry could not help himself talking to Ginny, laughing with her, walking back from practice with her” and “[Harry] was supposedly finishing his Herbology homework but in reality reliving a particularly happy hour he had spent down by the lake with Ginny at lunchtime.” Like, I don’t know. I might have liked to see those scenes play out.  

Bill/Fleur is probably her most successful couple (I mean, who doesn't like Bill and Fleur?) But even they almost never interact with each other. They talk about their relationship to other people, other people talk about them, but like… I’m just going to go through a rundown of every single time Bill and Fleur interact as a romantic couple: 

 “’E is always so thoughtful,” purred Fleur adoringly, stroking Bill’s nose. Ginny mimed vomiting into her cereal behind Fleur. Harry choked over his cornflakes.

(Romance = embarrassing) 

What if [Ron and Hermione] became like Bill and Fleur, and it became excruciatingly embarrassing to be in their presence, so that he was shut out for good?

(Romance = embarassing, threatening)

Most [of the people at Dumbledore’s funeral] Harry did not recognize, but a few he did, including (...) Bill supported by Fleur and followed by Fred and George

(put a pin in this one, I’m going to come back to it) 

“Bah,” said Fleur [in Harry’s body], checking herself in the microwave door, “Bill, don’t look at me — I’m ’ideous.”

(I actually think this is kind of cute in context, but unfortunately JKR is being uncharitable to her hyper-femme characters again, and being weird about woman-in-male-body *sigh*) 

“I’m taking Fleur on a thestral,” said Bill. “She’s not that fond of brooms.” Fleur walked over to stand beside him, giving him a soppy, slavish look that Harry hoped with all his heart would never appear on his face again.

(Romance = embarrassing) 

“We saw [Mad-Eye die]” said Bill; Fleur nodded, tear tracks glittering on her cheeks... 

(Not sure if this counts as them interacting, but they are at least next to each other)

“No,” said Bill at once, “I’ll do it, I’ll come.” “Where are you going?” said Tonks and Fleur together. “Mad-Eye’s body,” said Lupin. “We need to recover it.”

(this one doesn’t even frame them as a couple, since the teams have split into Bill and Lupin and Tonks and Fleur.) 

“We can’t tell you what we’re doing,” said Harry flatly. “You’re in the Order, Bill, you know Dumbledore left us a mission. We’re not supposed to talk about it to anyone else.” Fleur made an impatient noise, but Bill did not look at her.”

(... does this imply that Fleur isn’t in the Order? Anyway, they’re married at this point, and kinda disagreeing a la Molly and Arthur) 

[Griphook] continued to request trays of food in his room, like the still frail Ollivander, until Bill (following an angry outburst from Fleur) went upstairs to tell him that the arrangement could not continue.

(Another conflict, but hey, at least it sounds like they resolved it. We hear about their daughter Victoire in the epilogue, but this is the last time we see Bill and Fleur together.) 

But, okay. Not putting romance in the Harry Potter books is a perfectly fine creative choice. JKR can absolutely decide she just wants to give other things more emotional weight. What clarified this for me was the Fantastic Beasts films and her adult literature (particularly the Cormoran Strike books.) In those, JKR is wanting to write romance. And yet....

In Fantastic Beasts, she can write the awkward getting-to-know-you pre-romance stuff, but the second Jacob and Queenie are actually a couple - he loses his memory, then he’s brainwashed, she’s with Grindelwald, they’re different plot lines that never intersect… and then they just get married at the end of Secrets of Dumbledore. So it’s not even a slow-burn, will-they-won’t-they thing. Tina and Newt get the same treatment, except their pre-romance getting-to-know-you beats are so subtle that a lot of people missed them completely. Then Tina's angry at Newt for a very silly misunderstanding… then in a separate plotline… and is only in the third film for two minutes at the end. People compare the structure of these films to Indiana Jones, but in those movies the love interest is actually hanging out with Indy the whole time. In the Cormoran Strike books, the romantic leads do spend time together, but they’ve also been doing a pining, bad timing, will they/won’t they back-and-forth thing for seven books. And they’re long books. 

So okay. What’s going on. Why is this. 

JK Rowling has been very public about the trauma she has from abusive relationships and sexual assault, and I’m afraid I do have to bring that up in a conversation about why she treats romance so negatively. More specifically - if I had to guess - I think she finds male attraction towards women threatening. (I’m sure we all remember Harry’s chest monster.)  I think she feels a little icky writing it, which is why when she does do it… it feels perfunctory, generic, repetitive, and also not the sort of thing that would come from a teenage boy. (Like when has a 14-year-old boy ever thought a girl was pretty because she had nice teeth. That’s such a straight girl compliment.) BUT, when she writes about the attractiveness of guys - it gets more specific, more nuanced, more interesting, and also a lot less uncomfortable. J.K. Rowling likes guys! She’s allowed. 

But of course, she also tends to write male viewpoint characters, and I think this is why a lot of her guys (and Harry specifically) kinda read as queer to a lot of people. We’re told Harry is distracted by/attracted to Cho Chang… but is he though? Compared to the way “pretty boy” Cedric, or “sleek haired” Draco get under his skin? 

I want to take a look at her adult romantic leads for a second. Because in Fantastic Beasts, she really did pull out all the stops to make Newt and Jacob as non-threatening as humanly possible. Newt is a gentle, pacifist, Doctor Dolittle-type conservationist who barely seems interested in women at all, and Jacob… is a Muggle baker. She pairs Newt with Tina, tough as nails American star auror. Jacob is with Queenie, who is constantly literally reading his mind. Which is an ability we’ve only seen with the most powerful wizards. These guys are not a threat to these ladies. In Queenie’s case, the power balance is tipped so insanely far in her direction that I’m a little bit worried for Jacob (and she does in fact, bewitch him into doing stuff.) I think JKR wrote her couples this way so any romance she wrote with them would also feel safe… and sadly I don’t think it worked. The most fleshed out couple dynamic we get is Dumbledore/Grindelwald, who have a coffee date and a duel in the third movie. But - that’s the one movie where she doesn’t have sole screenwriting credit, they’re exes, and they're also both GUYS, so she doesn’t have to worry about any kind of male/female power imbalance gunk, or put herself in the headspace of a guy being attracted to women.

Now I do want to talk about Cormoran Strike. Of all her non-threatening male love interests, this is the one who seems to work best for her. She’s stuck with him the longest, and it actually seems possible that we might get an actual romantic scene with him in the next book. 

Here’s my theory. I think that when JKR was writing Goblet of Fire, and it came time to introduce the real Mad-Eye Moody - imprisoned in the bottom of his own trunk, weak, down a leg and an eye -  something clicked. Because that is someone who is both entirely masculine, and entirely safe, and that makes him the perfect romantic figure. And I absolutely think she grabbed that archetype when it came to writing Cormoran Strike.

Basically, this character just is Mad-Eye Moody, only 15(ish) years younger, and non-magical. Strike is an ex-military cop who now freelances. He’s older than his love interest, he’s been around the block a few times. He’s gruff, but careful and kind, world-weary and grizzled, extremely capable, principled, tough, and just sort of hyper aware of what’s going on around him. He is also a bigger guy with some access weight who is not “conventionally attractive” - and for JKR this is a feature, not a bug. If your female character is into someone who is not *~*~handsome~*~* that means they’re cool, deep, not like other girls. Viktor Krum is not conventionally attractive, and (after the werewolf attack) neither is Bill. In fact “he now bore a distinct resemblance to Mad-Eye Moody.” JKR likes Mad-Eye Moody. 

And you better believe that Cormoran Strike has a broken nose and a missing leg, just like Mad-Eye Moody. Strike’s prosthetic leg comes up a *lot.* I think it’s telling that the loving interaction we see between Bill and Fleur is her physically supporting him at Dumbledore's funeral post werewolf attack, and the loving little wrist squeeze we get between Lucius and Narcissa is right before Lucius hands his wand over. Basically, JKR likes someone who is sexy and capable and has a lot of presence, but who you get to take care of, and who… can’t chase you. Doesn’t pose a threat. That’s the fantasy. And that's why a lot of the romance she writes feels a little... off.