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wisteria-blooms · 23 days

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sunburns & dragons (charlie weasley & reader) (11/?)

CHAPTER DIRECTORY

TAGLIST AT THE BOTTOM! (Let me know if you'd like to be added or if I've missed you!) A/N: All filler no killer here... (this just needed to be written to serve as a segue to the next plot point. I have a 6:45 a.m. shift tomorrow yet here I am lol).

CHAPTER 11: Charlie tilts your world upside down with a question. (5.9k words)

CHAPTER 11: WINTER WONDERLAND

The sweater you were holding fell to the floor and landed by your feet. You stared blankly at Charlie who mirrored your expression with unwavering, handsome inquisition. The only thing complementing your stunned gaze was a silence that lingered for what felt like hours.

Your voice was far behind your thoughts when you spoke again. “I’m sorry,”—your lungs desperately pushed the rest of your sentence out as you tilted your head—“repeat that one more time?”

Charlie obliged your request. “I need you to supervise an exam for me. In a fortnight.” He stepped closer, feet landing in your lightly-sunned room for the first time. He swung over to you with both of his hands in his pockets. The gentle afternoon light danced over his face as he walked over. His posture was suave, his expression charming, his gaze gentle but holding a sense of assertion that left you no room to refuse his ask. “Be my invigilator.”

“For your… class?”

Charlie nodded.

After a few moments, his words began sinking into your frazzled brain. He must have thought you so stupid for taking so long to come to the conclusion: Charlie was asking you to be the invigilator for his Care of Magical Creatures class.

You furrowed your brows. This had to be a sick joke. Fred and George probably conferred with Charlie about the argument you had yesterday. And now as some sort of sadistic revenge plot, Charlie was going to throw you into the pits of what you hated the most. Make you relive the embarrassment of being back on that field again. Your cheeks burned from the memory of your 13-year old self being laughed at as you pulled yourself away from the Hippogriff that was staring at you, your grass-stained robes billowing behind you. But would Charlie really find that funny? You thought he possessed a touch more tact than his younger brothers.

You twisted your mouth. You were going to test the waters out without asking any questions that were too direct. “Do you really reckon I’m qualified?”

“You’re just watching over my kids as they write an exam,” Charlie explained. “Just manual labour, nothing exciting,”—he smirked—“unless you want it to be.”

You reddened immediately, then cursed yourself at your body’s lack of resistance to his words. Charlie seemed to know how to pierce your shields with some two-toned words.

Still, you wouldn’t back out. “Is there no one available at Hogwarts to invigilate?”

Charlie shook his head. “Hagrid and I are running two exams at the same time. We plan to divide the class in half. He’ll be supervising the practical component and I’ll be administering the theoretical component. After two hours, we’ll switch the groups securely, ensuring no opportunity for the students to exchange answers.”

When Charlie noted your silence, he continued: “So, no. With me and Hagrid tied up, and every other professor having snatched up possible invigilators months prior, we’re in trouble.”

You nodded silently.

“Cat got your tongue, (Y/N)?” Charlie asked.

“No, I just—I just think I wouldn’t be the best person for this job,” you stammered. Maybe you could use this as an opportunity to gauge his relationship with Mallory. “Don’t you have friends who can help?”

Charlie lowered his eyes, blue flashing through curls of ginger, and smiled, tilting the freckles of his cheeks upwards. “I wouldn’t trust them to do half as good a job as you would.”

You frowned. “You’re absolutely mad if you think I’d do well. I have no experience in academics.”

“No, really, (Y/N), I’m serious,” Charlie assured. He planted his hand on your shoulder, engulfing the bone, and gave it a squeeze. You jolted. Those damn hands were electric no matter how hard you wished they weren’t. “I know it’s just making sure they’re well-behaved, but you’re familiar with every trick possible, aren’t you? You’ve been around my brothers long enough to see past through any possible tomfoolery.”

As you pondered, Charlie bent down and retrieved your sweater. When you handed it to you, his fingers grazed yours. Another spark.

“Thank you,” you said as you took the sweater back in your possession. “About that… can I get back to you?”

Charlie smiled. “Sure, take your time.”

“Alright. Thank you.”

Even after Charlie had long left your room, you remained unmoving. In a physical sense, at least, because emotionally, your feelings were at war. It felt like bullets littering your chest, firing little sparks of anger. If Charlie had asked you just a week prior, you would’ve started packing at this very moment, taking only a moment’s rest to punch the air in celebration. Part of you still wanted to say yes, to rush out the door and tell him of course you were going with him. But the other part of you couldn’t pinpoint Charlie’s intentions with you and it made you anxious and wary. You wanted to scream ‘no’ and tell him he couldn’t keep doing this to you—pulling your affections in all directions like a rubber band just to snap you back in place. It hurt. Underneath it all, you felt terribly for treating Charlie this way just based on an assumption you’d made about him and Mallory. If it was false, and you’d lost your temper at Fred and George for nothing…

Fred. George. You weren’t ready to think about them just yet. You’d revisit your actions in a couple days when your mind was more logical.

Later that afternoon, you strolled back into Malfoy Manor. It was time to flip the switch. Charlie, off. Your family, on. A cold sun hovered above you, its glow painting the temperature brisk this November afternoon. The wind blew out the warmth in your hair, from the soft curls you’d teased into it. A cream sweater fell over your pleated, ankle-length dress. You hid your remaining skin with tights, and a pair of heels to finish everything off. With the tasteful silver jewellery dangling off your wrists, you were sure to slip by Aunt Rosamund’s scrutinising eyes without a word.

It was all too silent in the manor. But you wouldn’t be alone for long. From the opposing corridor, you saw a familiar face. Half yours, half not—Draco.

Draco’s lips were pulled straight. “We were starting to think you weren’t coming.”

“So good to see you, too, dear brother.” Your voice was deceptively saccharine, and so opposite of your unmoving face. “I so hope you’ve been well.”

“That’s revolting,” Draco barked. “Stop that.”

“But I’ve missed you so much,” you said. And what he didn’t know was that you meant it. A feeling of normalcy rushed through your bones as you looked at his disgusted expression. Your smile grew much to Draco’s displeasure. This was life before Charlie and you were nostalgic for it: being at home everyday, getting into needless arguments, and ribbing Draco.

“Get a move on,” Draco said. “You don’t want to keep our grandfather waiting.”

You stopped walking.

“What’s he doing here?” you asked.

“Our grandfather?” Draco voice pitched with incredulity at your question, making you feel stupid. “Have you forgotten how to read letters?”

“No, I’ve just been busy.” You kept your answer curt. Detailing your heartbreak to your brother was the last thing you wanted to do.

“Well, best of luck to you, then,” Draco offered with a scoff.

Draco opened the door on your behalf, the languid swing unveiling a terrifying scene. Unveiling your sure death. Well, it was beautiful at first glance: a pristine, well-kept drawing room with perfectly-shined upholstery; magnificent hand-crafted paintings with sublime streaks of oil paint; ceiling-high windows cradled by velvet curtains; teacups upon doilies upon oak tables. But what disturbed you the most were the occupants in the room, and in order, your eyes swiped over your mother, your father, your grandfather, your Aunt Rosamund, her husband, Charlotte, Clara, and Dobby. Charlotte and Clara were the only ones in the room smiling which told you a lot about the state of affairs—sordid.

Aunt Rosamund was one thing to prepare for, but Abraxas Malfoy was a different beast.

Abraxas stood tall with a cane planted on the carpet, his velvet robe sweeping down his legs. His face was decorated with deep, menacing wrinkles. His hardened blue eyes appraised you and Draco as if surmising how much of a disappointment to the family you’d become. Not you singular—you, plural. In a rare moment of unity, the pair of you looked like deer caught in headlights.

“Hello, grandfather,” you greeted first as usual.

“Hello, grandfather,” Draco quickly followed after.

Abraxas acknowledged you with a curt response: “Good afternoon.”

You found your seat next to your mother, and Draco took the seat by your father.

“Rosamund, I trust your travels were uneventful?” Abraxas asked Aunt Rosamund.

“Yes,” your aunt responded.

“And Charlotte and Clara are faring well at their boarding school in Switzerland?”

”I couldn’t ask any better of them.”

”(Y/N),” your mother whispered from beside you and leaned in. The concern on her face was visible as day. “Rosamund said she saw you on the streets earlier this morning. She said you looked as if you were in last night’s clothing. Is any of this true?”

”No,” you lied. “You know how dramatic Aunt Rosamund is when I have a hair out of place.”

Narcissa backed off and was seemingly satisfied with your answer. But her flittering glances towards you meant the conversation wasn’t over; it meant she herself suspected something. But you evaded her eyes and half-listened to Aunt Rosamund’s droning conversation with Abraxas. You heard bits about Charlotte and Clara’s schooling, vacations, equestrian lessons and—

“I don’t want to sit through a boring dinner tonight!” Charlotte whined suddenly. You jerked your head up to catch her pulling at her mother’s sleeve hem. “I want to see London.”

You had not mentally prepared for this herculean task of a family dinner. “Tonight?” you questioned a touch above a whisper, but it was loud enough to captivate the room. Then, your eyes widened, realising it was more than Draco or your mother that was going to chastise you for your lack of awareness.

Luckily, you were to be saved. Before Abraxas could speak, your father coughed and drew the room’s attention to him. Lucius looked strangely frazzled, his teeth gritted and his blue eyes darting between you and Narcissa and then briefly to his own father.

“In that case, why don’t we have your cousin (Y/N) accompany you into the city tonight?” Lucius offered to Charlotte hastily.

Charlotte was starry-eyed. She looked very much like a child that had just recovered from a meltdown over ice-cream. “Really?”

“Of course, Charlotte,” Lucius appeased. “You’ve been to enough dinners. It can become rather monotonous, especially for two bright and eager minds like you and your sister.” He directed his glance towards you, not once looking at Draco, before turning to your aunt. “(Y/N) would be thrilled to show your daughters around London, Rosamund. It would be properly enriching.”

“I would?” You kept your voice below any threshold of hearing. “I don’t recall saying yes.”

“We should profit off the short time you’re spending here with us,” Lucius cooed. The sight was revolting. He continued asking his nieces: “Is there anything you want to see?”

“Clara and I would like to go to the Christmas Market, uncle, it’s just so lovely where you live,” Charlotte answered as if she was still currying a favour. What she didn’t know was that none of this had to do with her or her wishes. Lucius was hell-bent on getting you and potentially Charlie out of this dinner with Abraxas, and a refusal to any request of hers was impossible. She could ask for possession of the manor and Lucius would sign the deed.

“Oh, splendid choice,” Lucius hummed. “There are numerous restaurants I myself enjoy in that area. (Y/N) will show you around the market and you can settle down for dinner. I will make a reservation for you right away.”

“Way to plant words in my mouth,” you murmured.

“Why are you upset?” Draco snarled. “I see it as a great way to get out of dinner with grandfather. I’d volunteer to do it if I could.”

“You wouldn’t last a minute. Your gloom and their happiness,”—you gestured to your cousins who were now rushing up the stairs to change—“are not compatible. You’d die.”

“Listening to our grandfather drone on about my lack of financial planning and carrying on the family legacy is a more tortuous death.”

“Ugh, the procession planning talk. I almost feel sorry for you.” You cocked your head, expression quickly brightening. “Hm, maybe this isn’t such a bad idea.” You slapped Draco's shoulder. “Maybe if you tried to understand women more, you would’ve been chosen for the job.”

“I do understand women,” Draco scoffed. “That’s why I have Astoria, who, by the way, is invited to this dinner and not being shown out the door like a stray dog.”

You rolled your eyes and that was enough to get Draco to leave it.

You bid your farewells before walking to the foyer to wait on your cousins. No more than ten minutes later did they come. Charlotte and Clara tumbled down the steps all dolled up and doe-eyed. If they were challenging you to a game of spot-the-difference, it was a difficult one. There was very little to pinpoint besides the colour of their plaid skirts and sweaters. Both girls took to white stockings and Oxfords, cable-knit sweaters, cloaks, and fuzzy mittens to keep warm. A bow in their hair completed the look.

You tapped the heel of your kitten heel on the marble as if to make a point. “I was hoping to change into something more suitable if we’re walking around all night.”

“Alright.” Charlotte plopped down on a plush bench by the wall. “Go ahead.”

“I meant at my apartment,” you clarified, extending a hand to Charlotte to pull her back up again. She frowned, so you added: “I live close to the Christmas market. It won’t take long.”

“You moved away?” Charlotte's eyes widened.

“I did.”

“Alright,” Clara giggled from behind you. She took your other gloved hand. “But you have to give us a tour of the place first.”

“Of course,” you agreed. You just prayed that Charlie wasn’t walking around shirtless.

You jangled your keys with force at your door, the sharp clacks screaming down the hall. Charlotte and Clara thought nothing of it, unaware you were doing this to warn Charlie (if he was inside) that you were coming home. To give him the chance to stuff Mallory in the closet and put a shirt on himself. You thrust the key inside and turned it in an absurdly slow motion. If he didn’t hear the clacking, he would’ve definitely heard this.

You pushed the door open and were relieved to find a quiet, empty hallway. Charlie’s door was ajar but there was no one in there, and you were glad for many reasons. Charlotte and Clara ran full speed ahead. You ran right behind them.

Charlie may or may not have been expecting you to be back, but he definitely wasn’t expecting two teenagers to be barrelling into the living room, a flurry of limbs and white-blonde hair. Luckily, Charlie wasn’t displaying qualities of exhibitionism that you imagined prior, and your cousins would maintain another day of perpetual innocence. Instead, he was sat in the living room writing. He paused mid-stroke, quill perfectly still in his hand, when the intruders presented themselves.

“(Y/N).” Charlotte turned back towards you, her voice even and not afflicted with even the slightest fear of a stranger. “Do you… have a visitor, by any chance?”

“No,” you said as you caught up to her, slightly huffing. “This is Charlie, my—”, and in looking for the most natural and palatable word, you landed on, “—roommate. Charlie, this is Charlotte and,” you pointed behind you. “Clara.” Charlie got up from the couch. “Lovely to finally meet you. (Y/N) has spoken so much about you.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” Clara responded politely.

“And mine, too,” Charlotte repeated.

“What are you doing here?” Charlie asked your cousins though his gaze was mainly on you.

“We’re going to stroll around the Christmas Market and have dinner,” you answered on their behalf. “I had to come back for more suitable footwear.”

Charlie looked down at your shoes. “I see.”

”You should come with us!” Charlotte offered.

“Would you?” Clara echoed.

“Tonight?” Charlie questioned. After a moment of contemplation, he responded, “Sure.”

“You don’t have to if you’re busy, Charlie,” you said.

You didn’t want to entwine Charlie into your life any further than you already had. If he was successful in charming your youngest cousins—which you were certain he was—he was going to be impossible to destitch. You’d be hearing about him for the next decade.

“No, I’m not,” Charlie assured. “I’ll finish my letter as you change.”

Charlotte and Clara’s excitement eclipsed yours and you were grateful for it. You retreated back to your room and let your cousins marvel at the sights outside the living room window. Navigating your feelings for Charlie was like swimming through sludge. You were not thrilled about this forced game of house. There was no doubt Charlotte and Clara were going to pry for details about you and Charlie to which you had no genuine answers, and none that excited you to think about either.

No more than fifteen minutes later, the four of you were walking down a lively street flush with market-goers. Lampposts, with red, green, and white lights snaked around them, shined at full force. Strings of gold lights criss-crossed above you. The scent of chocolate, peppermint and waffles smothered your senses.It was beautiful here, very quintessentially Christmas although you reckoned it was much too early for it. You stuck your gloved hands in your coat pockets—it was cold enough to be Christmas though. You let your cousins walk in front, marking their proximity with the long puffs of air that rose from their lips. But you didn’t need to slow them down one bit; they were stopping every few steps to take in all the lit-up buildings, signs, and food vendors.

“This is such an interesting architecture choice,” remarked Charlotte, pointing to a brick with a chunk missing.

“Isn’t it?” Charlie entertained. “Classic English architecture.” Charlotte walked away, looking satisfied with her observation. Then, Charlie whispered to you when your cousins were out of earshot. “I’d hate to tell them the truth. Some drunk bloke probably punched it out after a night out.”

“Ouch,” you emphasised, shaking your hand.

Charlie traced over a faint scar on his hand and chuckled. “It was probably me.” The puff of air that left his left almost graced your forehead, and like a contagious touch, his laugh made you smile, too.

“Ooh!” you heard one of your cousins exclaimed as they planted themselves at a stall. They were in the middle of combing through the menu when you caught up to them. Charlie was the first to arrive by their side. It smelt like cocoa. Your eyes trailed down the menu which confirmed your suspicions.

“It’s rather chilly. I’d love a hot cocoa, wouldn’t you, Charlotte?” Clara asked.

“I would.”

“Want one, (Y/N)?” Charlie nudged you, interrupting you from your mindless perusing of the menu.

“Perhaps.”

“Don’t be shy,” Charlie encouraged. “Just order what looks enticing to you.”

You stepped forward towards your cousins and so did Charlie. Charlie was first to act. “Alright,” he prompted, leaning down to see at Clara and Charlotte’s level. “Go on.”

“Excuse me,” Clara said. “May I have a hot cocoa with whipped cream?”

“And I’ll have the same, but with extra marshmallows, please,” added Charlotte.

“I’ll have the same as her,” Charlie said, pointing to Charlotte. “Excellent choice.” Then, the three looked back at you expectantly.

Working through the disbelief that Charlie had bonded so effortlessly with your cousins, you spoke. “I’ll have a latte, please.”

“You’re so boring, (Y/N)!” Charlotte commented.

“So boring,” Charlie repeated, getting up from his kneeling stance. He reached into his pockets and handed a handful of coins to the stall attendant. “Cheers, mate.”

You stepped forward quickly. “You didn’t have to,” you said, grasping Charlie’s arm. “This excursion is on me.” Then, you thought of the expensive dinner reservation waiting for you in about three hours. “And my father.”

“Think nothing of it,” Charlie assured. In the most casual manner, he shrugged his shoulders and said, “Just making sure my ladies are taken care of.”

‘Don’t say that,’ a voice in your head screamed. You had to remind yourself that Charlie’s colloquials meant nothing to him and everything to you.

The four of you ambled into the market with warm drinks in hand. You wondered if you gave off the impression of a family. Not that you wanted it to—you were doing this with a wand (or your father’s cane) pointed to your head. You certainly did not enjoy the idea of domesticity with Charlie. Not at all. Not a single bit. And you couldn’t even tempt yourself with daydreams because of what he’d said to Don the night of the concert, that he’d rather raise dragons instead of children. But you’d be lying if you said the interaction between him and your cousins earlier didn’t make your heart tender.

“So, what do you do for work, Charlie?” Clara asked, looking up at him. If you thought the height difference between you and Charlie was significant, then the one between him and your cousins was comical.

“I work with dragons in Romania.”

“With dragons? How exciting!”

Charlotte perked up from his other side. “Is it true there are vampires in Romania? Have you seen them?”

“Well,” Charlie began. “There was that one night when I was camping alone on the outskirts of town. It was for a study on the sleep cycles of baby dragons. I thought I was alone until I heard a noise around midnight…”

He had your cousin’s full attention with his little tale. He truly was able to charm everyone he met.

You spent the next couple hours supervising Charlotte and Clara as they ran around the fairgrounds. Charlie was a good sport, following your cousins from opposite ends of the market and sampling everything from waffles to toasties to bratwurst from stalls. After criss-crossing the grounds for the third time, you were ever so glad you’d changed footwear.

Charlotte and Clara’s next enthralment was a stall filled with ornaments and trinkets. Clara reached over to touch a dragon ornament. It was the most ridiculous design: a baby dragon in a Santa hat blowing fire into the fireplace. But Clara was indifferent, her only concern being who it might be a gift for. “This is perfect for you, Charlie.”

“You think so?” Charlie asked.

“I do,” Clara said as she unhooked the ornament from its wooden peg. She looked around some more until she landed on a pair of red peony earrings. She unhooked the jewellery and whispered, “Perfect.”

“Is that for Charlie too?” you joked. Charlie pulled at his earlobe. You laughed.

“No,” Clara clarified. “This is for you, (Y/N).”

“Why’d you choose that for (Y/N)?” Charlie asked.

“Because peonies represent romance and happy marriages,” Clara stated without missing a beat.

Charlotte stifled a laugh into her mittens.

”What do you mean by that?” you asked quickly.

“I shouldn’t tell you right now,” Clara said slyly. “It might be a little embarrassing, especially since Charlie is here, too.”

“How do you know what the flower symbolises, Clara?” Charlie asked.

“I’ve been very curious about botany recently,” she said.

“Tell me more about it,” Charlie encouraged.

As Clara began rambling on about flowers, you racked your mind for any moment in time where you’d mentioned a relationship or marriage to your cousins. Nothing came to mind. Charlie looked unaffected and didn’t prod further. You decided to leave it.

After Clara made her purchases, you proceeded to the centre of the park which was flush with rides. You looked up at one of them, an intimidating structure with loops of upside down hell and—

“I’ll sit and wait,” you offered with a step back towards the bench.

“Are you sure? It’s your loss,” Charlie asked, his head tilting towards you. From your peripheral, you saw his blue eyes looking down at you and his lips curling into a smile. He left so little distance that you were nervous to turn around in case you’d accidentally kiss him.

You were glad your cousins were preoccupied with watching the coaster run and listening to the screams of the people on it.

”I’m sure,” you said before sitting down.

“I’ll take Charlotte and Clara,” Charlie volunteered.

You’d become the girls’ personal porter shortly afterwards, their little handbags looped around your arms and their purchases on your lap. You kept an eye on them even though you didn’t have to—Charlie was ushering them from exit to entrance, never giving them more than a metre’s advantage.

You didn’t understand how Charlie could be content with being here, taking care of barely-teenagers who never stopped talking. You didn’t understand why he’d invited you to go to Hogwarts to invigilate his exam unless it was a cruel joke. The only thing that abated the tension in your chest was watching his ginger curls whip around in circles on the teacup ride. Every so often, you’d get a millisecond of his face, of Charlie mid-laugh, looking like a child himself.

Maybe you shouldn’t have been so hard on him earlier.

There wasn’t much time to reflect on that as the ride came to a stop moments later. “I’m nauseous,” Clara grumbled as she stumbled towards you.

“Maybe dinner will settle your stomach,” you suggested with a smile and placed a hand on her back.

You should’ve known dinner was going to be the crux of the chaos.

The maître d'hôtel’s face hid nothing. His judgemental expression was rude, and it was clear he was having a hard time grasping the reservation and the relationship between the guests. Four under Malfoy. You were the Malfoy. The quirk of his eyebrow begged to know who Charlie was in relation to you. And his tightly-pressed lips made the inference that your cousins were your daughters. Their childlike appearance wasn’t helping anything. But luckily, nothing came out of it and you were promptly seated. You ignored the couple of glances tossed at you as you walked down the restaurant.

You breathed a sigh of relief as you sunk into the chair. The sound of fresh wine being poured into your glass was soothing after a long day. You had just to get through this last thing and you could go home under the guise of escorting your cousins back to the manor. You wouldn’t have to explain to Charlie why you weren’t coming back to the apartment nor would you have to tell your parents why you were home. In a way, Aunt Rosamund’s untimely arrival was blessed.

“Do you know what this reminds me of?” Charlotte asked suddenly.

“What does it remind you of?” Charlie asked.

“Genevieve’s wedding,” Charlotte chirped happily, gesturing to the seats around the round table. “We were sitting with (Y/N) just like this.”

“And you were drinking the same thing,” Clara recalled. “But Draco was sitting next to you.”

You nodded slowly, cautious of where this was going. “It does look familiar, doesn’t it?”

“Except you cried your eyes out at Genevienve’s wedding!” Charlotte exclaimed suddenly, like her lips had been sewn shut and she finally managed to rip the seams. Your wine glass shuddered at her timbre. Her outburst caught the attention of everyone within a metre range. A couple of heads from the other tables whipped around at the commotion.

“I did not!” you scolded quietly. You avoided Charlie’s curious glance and focussed on holding your cousin’s hand in restraint.

“(Y/N) doesn’t remember because she was drinking too much, Charlie,” Clara informed with a giggle.

“I can see that,” Charlie agreed.

Great, you didn’t have enough hands to hold back all three of them. “I wasn’t drinking that much,” you retorted. Comparatively, to your family members.

“(Y/N) and Genevieve usually look like they want to strangle each other, but they were crying into each other’s arms by the end of the night,” Charlotte added. Then, she twisted her mouth to change her voice. “Genevieve, I’m so happy for you. Max is such a great guy.”

“Don’t worry, (Y/N), it will happen for you, too,” Charlotte imitated again in an uppity-tone to play the role of Genevieve. She swatted the air to mime Genevienve patting your back. And then she reverted back to her impression of you. “At this rate, I will die alone. But tonight is all about you, dear cousin.”

Now that you thought about it, this definitely did happen back in August. But you didn’t think anyone was actually listening. Just how loud were you?

“What we’re saying is that she does care greatly about things like marriage,” Clara clarified with a self-satisfied shimmy. “And a peony is perfect for it. Just saying.”

Charlie nodded. “Thank you, Clara.”

“You’re very welcome, Charlie,” Clara responded.

Clearly, Clara thought she was doing you a favour. You peeked around for any sign of your food and was distraught to find no sign of the waiter. This night couldn’t be over sooner.

But it wasn’t.

After dinner, Charlotte and Clara wanted to explore the grounds further. Things were more fun when the crowds thinned, they proclaimed. By now, it was close to 10 p.m. Out of everyone here, you were the only one panicked—you were going to be serious shit if you didn’t bring the girls back to the manor soon. Lucius was going to be in one ear with Aunt Rosamund in your other. However, you hadn’t received any owls requesting their return yet, so you could gamble another half hour or so.

Charlotte and Clara were dragging you and Charlie to the ferris wheel now. You looked up at the brilliant spinning sphere. You made them promise that this was their last ride because you were hightailing it home after. They agreed.

The attendant, some tall and lanky teenager, ushered people onto the steps and guided them into the proper carriage. Each vessel fit four, enough for all of you, or so you thought.

“Mhm, we’d like our own carriage,” Clara said, slipping in with Charlotte and motioning for the attendant to close the door. “See you later, (Y/N).”

Charlie answered for you: “Bye.”

Awkwardly, you waited for the next carriage to dip down. You shuffled inside with Charlie who didn’t seem to mind being alone with you. You sat as the attendant shut the door. Charlie stretched out his legs until the sole of his shoe met the base of the opposite seat; you couldn’t do that if you tried. The moonlight filtered in and out as you rose in the air. You took a deep breath and reminded yourself: three rotations and you’d be done. You could go home and forget today ever happened.

There was a nudge at your side. Charlie. “Thank you for letting me tag along,” Charlie said. “I’ve had fun beyond my expectations.”

“I should be thanking you. You are such good company for my cousins. They find you thoroughly entertaining.”

Charlie exhaled and chuckled. “I can only hope I did a decent job.”

Your expression softened. His words always found a way to pull a smile out of you, especially when they were earnest. You preferred this side of him, and it made you want to do terrible things like be vulnerable with him. Say yes to his proposition. Run off to Hogwarts for the better half of a week with him.

Your feelings for Charlie were volatile, ever-changing on an hourly basis. It felt so good to soar high then crash. Maybe you were a fiend for adrenaline. And you could feed that monster further if you agreed to his proposition. You kicked your legs back and forth anxiously, slightly swaying the carriage.

“We’re going to fall out if you keep doing that,” Charlie commented coolly.

“I’m expecting you to save us both.”

“You think highly of me,” he said.

Out of some sense of curiosity and mischievousness, your hand travelled to lay on top of his. “I do.”

“Even for someone who’s just your roommate?”

You pouted. He was mocking your introduction of him to your cousins earlier this evening. “It was the only suitable word, unless you want to explain everything to them.”

“I was hoping I’d be more than just a roommate,” Charlie chuckled. “And you should do the honours of explaining everything to them. It was your idea.”

“It wasn’t my brightest,” you admitted. “Now, I really do feel like falling out of this carriage.”

“No,” he corrected. All of a sudden, his hand slipped out from under yours, latched on, and pulled. Your silky dress glided on the plastic seat, the lack of friction making it stupidly easy for you to crash against his body. Your body slanted towards his, and the warmth of his chest spread against your shoulders. His breath fanned your cheek as he said, “If you go, we’ll go together.”

“I’ve never heard anything more romantic,” you said, rolling your eyes. The action didn’t go unnoticed by Charlie.

“That’s what I’m known for,” Charlie boasted. Then, he squeezed your hand curiously. “You feel cold. Are you?”

“Erm, I haven’t been, so, I don’t think—”

“It must be the elevation change,” Charlie concluded. He pulled you just the slightest bit closer. “It’s a good thing I’m naturally warm-blooded.”

When his embrace sent a rush of heat through your body, you were inclined to agree. Any joke you wanted to make was lost on your tongue. The carriage began to descend and when you looked down, you saw two little blonde heads.

“(Y/N)?” Charlie’s voice was cutting despite him talking in a near-whisper; the distance it had to travel was not far at all.

“Yes, Charlie?”

Any trace of intelligible thought disappeared when his eyes locked with yours. You couldn’t have been more than a couple inches apart, and you felt as if your eyelashes would interlace if you dared blink. Your stomach lurched as you thought about what he was going to ask of you. He might ask to kiss you (again). He might tell you he was tired of the charades and this was going to be the last time you saw each other.

“What I asked you earlier, about coming to invigilate with me—”

Your heart dropped suddenly like the ride Clara had gotten sick on earlier. He was going to admit that it was all a joke.

“What about it?”

“Would you give it some serious consideration? I would really like you to come.”

Your lips parted in surprise. If this was a joke, then Charlie was committing to the bitter end.

“It would be as good for you as much as it would be good for me,” he promised.

What did he mean by that?

“Of course,” you said. You had to will yourself not to say yes this moment. I’d love to go with you. “I’ll let you know soon.”

When the carriages descended, you retrieved your cousins and proceeded towards the exit of the fairgrounds Charlotte, in secret and while holding your hand, asked if you had kissed Charlie at the apex of the ride which you vehemently denied. She didn’t seem to believe you and pointed out that your cheeks were really, really red. Leave it to the barely-teenager to be more scrupulous than you. Maybe you should be asking her what to do about Charlie. As you realised the answer would probably be, ‘just marry him!’, you knew you needed to go about this yourself.

>> NEXT CHAPTER (COMING SOON)!

CHAPTER DIRECTORY

@badgerqueen07 @superduckmilkshake @k-k-merlin @kisskittenn @pluiesdefleurs@lilianelena39 @bathwater101 @evilunicorns4minions @noah-uhhh-what @earth-to-lottie @kissingyourgrl @sihtricswife @adalia-jaycee @anuttellaa @weasley-clan @morks-watermelon @nobodysbabydoll @annoyingbean630 @bathwater101 @ladylizzieofdarbyshire

#charlie weasley imagine #charlie weasley x you #charlie weasley x reader

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theskeletongames · 6 months

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Tooting my own horn here, but I found some great jokes reviewing some scripts for side comics I wrote over a year ago. I had forgotten I wrote them and I'm happy that they're still funny. Anyone ever done this?

I think it's cause my best material is written in a delirious insomniatic state where I've been trying to fall asleep for the past 6 hours and all my brain can do is think of funny situations. So I write it out before finally falling asleep and then I promptly forget about the whole thing till I look it up later.

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saintvainglorious · 5 months

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10 Best Black Sails Fics I Read in 2023

In honor of Black Sails' 10th anniversary, here's a list of my top 10 favorite Black Sails fics I read in 2023, in order from shortest to longest. Most Black Sails fic rec posts I've seen are now around 2 or 3 years old (though not all, bless @jaynovz and your #jay's esoteric rec lists tag) so nearly half of the recs in this list spotlight newer fics. It's amazing to see fantastic fics still being written and updated years after the show ended - y'all are keeping this fandom alive!

I didn't read that much Black Sails fic this year, comparatively speaking, so I'm sure there's plenty of newer gems that I missed. All the fics in this rec list are Silverflint unless otherwise stated.

1 - Gone To Port Royal by Apetslife (G, 3k) - a delightful oneshot from Gates' POV where they all go to a pirate afterlife. every scene is perfect. endlessly re-readable and never fails to make me smile.

Definition of Valhalla 1: the great hall in Norse mythology where heroes slain in battle are received 2 : a place of honor, glory, or happiness: heaven

2 - i’ll be seeing you by youatemytailor/@annevbonny (NR, 19k) - this is THEE post-canon Silverflint reunion fic. the anguish, the rage, the quiet jokes, the tenderness, it's all devastatingly in-character. particularly the chapter 5 climactic unspooling leaves me in awe upon every reread.

Silver is out of his chair and across the room before he knows it. He has a grip on the barkeep’s shirt before he knows it, and he’s pulling him up, hauling him eye-level, only to head-butt him to the ground again. The barkeep’s mouth is thrown open in a wail, but there’s no sound, Silver thinks, no sound at all, save for the blood rushing in his ears as he looks at the other man on the ground, watches him roll to his side with a groan. Flint, Silver thinks, and nothing else. It beats around the knife in his gut like a drum. Flint. And then Flint is looking at him.

3 - The Dark Lord Proprietor by Amiril/@runawaymarbles (M, 19k, Silverflintham) - a fuckin hysterical supervillain AU. Thomas has amnesia, Flint is pining, Silver tries to get them back together. what could go wrong? could not stop cackling.

A year ago, James Flint was in a stable relationship and was within spitting distance of taking over London. Now he’s single, with a dubiously loyal henchman, a lairmate determined to learn his every weakness, and a Secret Past with the new supervillain on the scene. And thanks to a new government program, it’s all a race to the bottom.

4 - the cross dimensional nassau bar of getting izzy hands laid by FortinbrasFTW/@fortinbrasftw (E, 19k ~WIP~, Flint/OFMD Izzy Hands) - a Black Sails OFMD Flint/Izzy Hands crossover. the very best kind of smut-as-character study. funny, gripping, and endlessly re-readable.

The first thing Izzy realizes is he looks absolutely fucking furious — which yeah, alright, fair enough. He’s got shorter ginger hair. A beard like Izzy’s but kept neater. Earrings like Izzy’s but worn simpler. Bleeding like Izzy but, well, maybe a bit less. And he’s handsome. Izzy realizes it suddenly and slowly somehow all at once. Bit like a bloody painting even. The kind you saw up on walls in rich folk’s houses. Only, well, no painting had eyes like that, did it? You’d have to be mad to keep a painting with eyes like that in your home. They were bright and clear and looked — honest-to-fucking-Christ — ready to set the whole damned world on fire. Izzy's terrible, horrible, no good, very bad night takes an interesting turn thanks to a completely different sort of pirate captain.

5 - frail and fragile bars by Ajaxthegreat/@francisthegreat (E, 21k) - Silver realizes, post-shark date, that he's in love with Flint. an instant, iconic fave fic. SO many delicious scenes and quotes that live rent free in my head. just read it, you won't regret it.

“I think you fuck,” Silver says. By which he means, with great intent: I think you are human. I know you are human. I see you.

6 - the whole estate of mortal man by Amiril/@runawaymarbles (T, 43k) - Creature Silver AU where he'll grant wishes in exchange for souls. first read this fic in 2020 and cried. reread it this year and cried again. the nature of the AU intersects so cleverly with Black Sails' themes, and the end result is devastating.

Silver has a limited memory, an unlimited lifespan, and a need for human souls. He spends months trying to buy Flint’s.

7 - our feast is but beginning by x_etoile_x/@etoilesombre (E, 55k) - Flint teaches season 1 Silver how to cook. they're definitely not dating. no, really. this writer writes dialogue so in-character that it cuts like a knife. features sensual cooking, Flint being a queer mentor for Silver, fun genderfuckery, and Them Being Real Tender.

Flint should walk away. Silver can figure out how to feed the men, it isn’t his problem. But roasting a pig is so easy, and when was the last time he had a hand in creating something rather than destroying it? Anyway, what else is he doing, with Billy taking the crew in hand with such annoying competency? He absolutely does not think about why he is reluctant for this interaction with Silver to end. “Go get another pig,” he says before he can reconsider. “Do exactly as I say.”

8 - With Strange Aeons by Amiril/@runawaymarbles (M, 60k, Silverflint + Flinthamilton + Jackanne) - Came for the Silverflint, stayed for the Silverflint but also for holy fuck Jack and Anne are sent to Savannah and break out of there with Thomas to battle literal Cthulhu. How can you NOT read this. I don't typically read Flinthamilton, but by god Thomas is amazing in this.

After the disappearance and presumed death of Captain Flint and Long John Silver, Max smuggles Jack and Anne to Oglethorpe’s plantation. Thomas learns that not only do the three of them have a friend in common, but he is not the only one whose dreams are haunted by a strange city and a terrifying name. Meanwhile, Flint and Silver try to escape an island trapped in time, impossibly built and impossibly old. Along the way they’re forced question reality, each other, and themselves. And in his house in R’lyeh, dead Cthulhu waits dreaming.

9 - The Salt and the Sea by x_etoile_x/@etoilesombre (E, 60k) - a between season 2 and 3 recovery fic. i still remembered months after reading that chapter 4 in particular left me undone. a harrowing journey into the ruins of post-leg loss Silver's mind, plus exquisite hurt/comfort.

John Silver was always able to make the best of a situation. If this particular situation had started to feel complicated, well, a vast fortune ought to prove clarifying. Whatever he might have imagined he’d seen in Flint, the reality was they had used each other. And he had been set to walk away on top. Except now he couldn’t. Now he was trapped.

10 - the straight walk home by vowelinthug/@vowel-in-thug (E, 73k, Silverflint + Jackanne + Maxanne + Billy/Vane) - A western AU and one of the best long fics in the fandom. Excellent comedy, amazing AU twists on our favorite characters, found family vibes, nail-biting action, and a fucking fantastic climax. Also, I can't believe this fic got me invested in Billy/Vane.

Let me tell you a story, about a vaquero named Vasquez...

#black sails #black sails fic recs #silverflint #fanfiction #fic recs #bsanniversary #10yearsblacksails #10bsfest

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b00ks1ut · 3 months

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I Got Your Back

Eugene Roe x GN!Reader

Warnings! Alcohol consumption, harassment, blood, mild violence, swearing, mild injury, my attempt at writing lol, I’m really hoping I got all the big stuff

This is based only off the tv series and I intend no offense to the real men of Easy Company or any veterans

Sorry if this is bad! I had such bad block while writing this and for some reason it’s taken me like 4 months to complete this short little thing😭 anyways I’m hoping it’s not horrible!

Also this was written for @executethyself35! Thank you so much for being so amazing and I’m so so sorry this has taken 5 and 1/2 years lol You’re amazing and literally the best <3

The bar was loud and stuffy and crowded, but it was fully of paratroopers, what did you expect? You were sat at a little round table, crowed with too many men; most now at least tipsy and all thourally enjoying the rare weekend pass that Sobel didn't take from them.

"You need another drink?" Eugene barely had to lean over in his chair to reach your ear due to the cramped situation that was your table.

"Oh, yeah. I'll get 'em this time, you got the last ones." You told him turning towards the medic sat next you, your noses nearly touching, and you had to almost lean back to stop yourself from bumping into him.

"No, I ain't gonna make you do that." He began to reach for your now empty glass but you quickly stopped his hand from fully grasping the cup.

"Please, I've gotta spend all this extra paratrooper money," you joked, pushing his hand away and giving it a quick squeeze. You quickly stood and grabbed his mug, not giving him a chance to object.

You had made it hardly 6 feet away from the occupied table, through the impossibility close crowd, when an unknown man had stepped into your path. You had attempted to step around him but it was no use, this man was a wall unwilling to move.

"I'm sorry is there a chance you could move please?" If he wasn't going to read your very obviously uninterested body language then he could hopefully read you as equally uninterested lips.

"Now how about I don't do that and instead take you home?" He was handsome in his own way, he definitely wasn't ugly but was certainly not your type.

"Oh no thank you, I'm just trying to get a couple of drinks for me and friend." You again tried to step around him but he kept moving in a step in front of you. You looked around hoping to catch someone's eye but for how many people were the damn bar you couldn't seem to catch the eye of a single you knew. "I'd really appreciate it if you just let me get my drink."

"How about if I let you get your drink, you'll owe me a drink." He was smirking to himself like this normally worked for him, intimidating people into dancing and sleeping with him. Now that you thought about it, maybe he wasn't just not your type; maybe he just wasn't everybody's type so he had to resort to this sad creepy behavior that definitely was getting him nowhere.

"They don't owe you a damned thing." The familiar Cajun accented voice had reached your ears before you were even aware he was nearby. "How about you get a move on now and we'll all have just a fine and dandy of the night."

"I don't think so no." This man was either the biggest piece of shit or was denser than fuck and you were certain it was the former. Before you could think of a response he had grabbed your arm and began trying to pull you away. As if it were second nature you took the glass in your hand and brought down hard on his hand.

The glass shattered. Pieces flying in all directions but most of the pieces finding their home in the back of the man's hand.

"You fucking whore!" He had quickly ripped his hand away cradled it in his other hand.

"I'm the whore here? I'm not sure what Not want to have sex with you makes me a whore but if it means you'll leave me alone then I'll make it a badge wear it on my uniform." You weren't sure where this attitude was coming from and you had nothing else to blame it on than your last few drinks and the current adrenaline racing through your veins.

The man was still standing there dumbstruck when you turned around to find Gene standing there. His eyes scanned across your face before leaping down the arm the man had just grabbed you by.

His eyebrows furrowed and his eyes became increasingly more concerned when he noticed the cuts on my arm from a few stray pieces of glass. His eyes flicked back to yours.

“I’ll getcha patched up.” He hadn’t left any room for argument but you might as well try.

“I’m alright, it’s nothing I can’t handle on my own.” But by the time the reply had left your lips Eugene already had your hand in his and was walking towards the door.

“You can’t just leave them glass pieces in, it’ll never get better.”

“Fine, I’ll take your word for it.” Why complain when the most attractive man you’ve ever met was asking to take care of you. Only an idiot would pass that up.

Cool dark of outside was a welcome change from the stuffy pub and you relished in it, not having had a break from the heat of George in a while.

“I’m sorry.” His voice was just a low rumble and you weren’t sure if you were imagining it.

“What?”

“I’m sorry,” he had now turned around and faced you, still holding your hand. “I shoulda gone with you to get drinks and I shoulda done more. I just-“ He ran his other hand over his face before rubbing the back of his neck.

“Gene, you have nothing the apologize for. I was the one who insisted I get the drinks, I was the one who couldn’t get myself out of the situation. It’s on me, not you.” You gave his hand a squeeze and his arm a little tug, causing him to finally look at you after staring at this boots this whole time. “But none of that matters anymore, he’s gone and now there’s nothing to worry about.”

“What about your arm? I can’t let you just ignore it.” He was looking at you with such concern and care and all you could do was stare. Yeah staring is rude but how could you not? His short hair was sticking up in different places from him running his hands through it and the light from the bar was casting a beautiful glow that made his eyes sparkle in a way you never saw them before.

He was gorgeous. Not that you’d never noticed this before, but the realization hit you like a truck and it completely stole your breath; he stole your breath.

“Ma joie?” His voice brought you back, a flush spreading across your face.

“Huh? Sorry.” You realized you were still holding his hand, and finally let it drop. The warmth of the rough skin of his was quickly wicked away by the night air.

“Where’d you go?” He was looking at you like you mattered, like you were more than a body. More than a number. More than the shell that Sobel had been working you down to.

“Sorry… um just distracted. What were you saying?”

“I was asking if you need help with your arm.” His eyes left yours to flick down to the still bloody and leaky cut of your arm.

“Oh. I can handle it on my own.” You were kicking yourself the moment the words left your mouth. The best man you’ve ever met wants to take care of you, and you can’t seem to let him.

“I really was just askin’ to be nice but there’s no way I’m letting you take care of this yourself. And I’m especially not letting you make your way back to base when filth like him are around.”

“I can hold my own, I was just wasn’t trying to make a scene in there.” You didn’t know why you kept making these excuses for him to leave you. You didn’t want him to walk away, every bit of yourself wanted to jump on him but a bit of you was too scared of just a little bit of rejection to have him just patch you up.

“I’m not doubting that you could but I am worried you might be a little drunk and that if I don’t help you get that arm cleaned up you’ll be nice and infected in a week.” He had a point, a good point he made a few times now. And what is there to be scared of with him. Eugene Roe is quite possibly one of the kindest most caring people you know what is there to be worried about, if you messed up and made a move he would react completely responsibly.

But for some reason you kept fighting it.

“I just don’t want to be a bother. Go have fun, Gene, I didn’t mean to upturn the night. I’m sure everyone is waiting for you in there.”

“Nope. Not a chance I’m leaving. You’re stuck here with me, and it’s cold and dark so while I’d love to continue this amazing little conversation I really think it might be our best interest to start the trip back to base.”

I was obvious he was done with the back and forth so you let it drop.

—————————

It wasn’t long until you were back where you needed to be. All of the light posts were turned on but no one was out and about save for the few drunk-ish men stumbling from barrack to barrack. Many of the lights to the cabins were on and laughter and conversation could be heard from the people within them.

Gene grabbed your hand and pulled you towards the dark, unlit medic tent. The walk a short and easy trek through the mazes of buildings, as he seemed to know where the tent was and could get you there with his eyes closed walking backwards.

You quietly arrived to the temporary shelter and are met with… nothing. No noise, no startling smell; just more dark. And the awareness that you’re all alone with Eugene.

He continues to tug you over to a table set up in the center of the room. A few crates next to them that he immediately begins to rummage through.

“Can I help with anything?” Your voice cuts through the quiet, just barely above a whisper.

“No, I got it.” He pauses briefly to look at you, never really stopping his hands from sifting through the supplies.

“Eugene, please. I want to help you, how can I help? Even just a little bit, I feel like I’m just in the way.”

“You can help by sitting yourself up on that table there and letting me take care of you. That’s all I ask, that you let someone take care of you; even if it’s just this one time.” His tone was soft, his accent showing through the caring tone. He had grabbed all of the items from the crate and was just staring at you. Looking at you.

Slowly, as if approaching a wild animal, Gene set the supplies on the table and stepped to you. His thighs brushing your knees

Everything about him was stunning. From his heavily disheveled hair all the way down to his spit shined boots, he was perfect.

“I’m sorry.” Your voice had come out uneven and hoarse, barely audible even in the quiet evening.

“What for?”

“You’ve been nothing but kind to me all night and I keep pushing you away. I don’t know why, I think I’m just scared. I mean… we ship off in just a few weeks and then anything could happen. I can’t go getting attached to anyone; especially you.” You averted your gaze to the ground so you wouldn’t have to see his face when he realized what a horrible coward you are.

But, instead of him lashing out and leaving you his hand gently came to your chin, tilting back up, forcing you to look at him again.

“I don’t blame you for that. We’re all terrified, but what’s the point of being here if we’re not going to make the most of it while we can. Why die regrettin’ what’s right in front of you when you all you gotta do is reach a little and grab it. I’m scared that some of the best people I’ve met are not going to come back and I might be included in that but I’m also scared that I’m not gonna take the beautiful opportunity I have right now… with you.” His gaze was soft and gentle. He looked quickly at your lips before taking a small step back. “But I should probably patch you up first.”

“I’m fine.” You grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, pulling him to yourself until your lips met. Eugene didn’t move, he stayed completely still. You quickly pulled away. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have- I didn’t ask. I just assumed-“

His lips swiftly covered yours. You returning the affection. His lips soft and gentle against yours, still tasting of the ale he left back at the pub.

It was all over before you could completely let yourself get absorbed into him. His soft breaths fanned over your face as his forehead tenderly connected with yours.

“Can I get you fixed up now?” A playful glint in his eye, and a blush so bright you could still see it in the dark, adorned his face.

“I suppose I’ll allow it.” Your smile morphing into a smirk.

He picked up a pair of tweezers, from the pile he had set next to you, pinching them at you jokingly.

“Let me know if I hurt you.” He gently grabbed your arm by the elbow and maneuvered it to where he needed it. The contact from him, although little, had a fresh blush creep up your neck.

“I’m sure that I’ll be fine.”

You soon learned that was not true. Once he had gotten all of the biggest pieces out of your arm, his search for the tinier shards started. You tried to muffle your winces but everyone he’d stop and wait until your face had returned to neutral.

“Ma joie, please let me know when I hurt you. I don’t have much left to get but I hate to be hurting you, so let me know so I can stop it.” Gene had set down the tweezers so he could hold your hands.

“I’m not hurting. I’m completely fine.” Your lie was obvious but he was doing enough for you already that why would you interrupt his process just because you’re not completely comfortable.

“Alright then.” He picked the tweezers up again and got the last few pieces out, still pausing whenever you flinched a little too hard. He then proceeded to do the most gentle cleaning and wrapping ever performed in history. He rinsed out the area, dabbing away all the water like if he pressed too hard your arm would fall off. Then he wrapped it all up in a sterile bandage, asking if it was too tight every two wraps around your bicep. “All done!”

You went to slide off the table but his hands held you in place. “I thought we were done?” He just stared, emotion clear in his eyes.

“Can I kiss you again?” You surprised yourself with the question. You had been thinking the thought since it happened the first time just 30 minutes before.

“Of course you can.” His hands came up to your face, cupping your cheeks and lead you together.

I was the same but different from the first kiss. This one wasn’t hesitant or awkward as you tried to find your placement, you meshed perfectly. Your lips moving over each others in perfect harmony. Little puffs of air from his nose tickling your lashes, and the way he smiled into the kiss had you melting into his hands.

Your arms went up his chest to his shoulders, stopping to loop around his neck; your fingers curling slightly into his hair. All of Eugene was surrounding you, his smell, his taste, his entire presence was all you could comprehend in the moment.

He eventually pulled away, breathing heavy. Eyes slowly opening back up to look into yours.

“Thank you.” You don’t know why you said it. You were saying for the man that left you alone when he arrived. You were saying it for the bandage snuggly tied around your bicep. You were saying it for the breath taking kiss you just had. But most of all you were saying it for the man that was going to be there for you in every moment he could be.

“I got your back; through it all.” He squeezed your hips, his eyes never leaving yours.

“And I yours.”

#eugene roe #eugene roe x reader #band of brothers #band of brothers x reader #gn reader #hbo war #easy company #hbowar

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deadbeatbirdmom · 8 months

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Why Yang is the best*

*in my admittedly biased opinion, she's my favourite character in RWBY.

Let's get the shallow reasons out of the way first:

She's very pretty, including her long golden blonde mane of hair and lilac eyes. Blonde bombshell is a fitting description.

And this blonde bombshell can make other things very literally explode with her sticky grenades from Volume 7 onwards.

She's a badass in combat even without her Semblance, but with it she packs even more of a punch, and that's quite an understatement.

There's also the way her Semblance makes her hair either glow like molten gold or transform into flames (Volume 6 onwards), and her eyes turn red, or later a fiery orange. Both striking.

But Yang is far more than these shallow things. She has depth.

Right from the start in her trailer, from the quote at the beginning to the things she does, it's clear that there's more to her than meets the eye. She's goes to a club, but not to party. She's there for information.

Yet I've read fics where she's written off as a dumb blonde party girl. Sure, the beauty of fanfic is writing what you want, but if Yang's that out of character is she really still Yang, and not an original character by the same name?

Yang isn't dumb. There's no mention of her being a bad student, and she's seen paying attention and poised to take notes in Volume 1.

She also doesn't fight like someone who just keeps punching until her opponent falls down and can't get up again. I mean, that might be part of it, but she adapts, like she did in the trailer against the kicks of Melanie Malachite.

In that trailer Yang defeats a club full of goons, two bodyguards (Melanie and Miltia) and Junior himself. All of them adults against a 17 year old who hasn't yet started at Beacon (going by what I've heard of the Roman Holiday book, Melanie and Miltia are in their early twenties in Volume 1, just like Neo).

Yang starts to adapt against Neo on the train in Volume 2, but gets knocked out before she can get far enough to actually do more than throw Neo.

The Yang that gives the impression of a cheerful party girl is a mask, as can be seen when there's glimpses of her depth in Burning the Candle when she persuades Blake to slow down. And that mask really shatters in Volume 3 when bad things start to happen.

Yang goes through trauma, physically and emotionally. It changes her. But it certainly doesn't make her boring, at least not to me. She also gradually heals, enough to make jokes in Volume 5 onwards. That is a hopeful message to other people who go through bad things. Sometimes bad things just happen, but that's not the end. You keep moving forward. It may take a while to recover, and to get back to yourself, and you won't be quite the same, but you're still you.

Then there's the sisters Xiao Long-Rose. Yang is dedicated to being there for Ruby, to the extent that she raised her after Summer disappeared. Exactly how long their dad was lost to depression isn't clear, but even after he recovered he'd still be busy working. Yang would remain the combined big sister and mother for Ruby even after Tai's more capable of parenting.

That isn't to say that Yang is perfect, or that she never makes mistakes, or always gets along with Ruby. She's human. They both are. To be human is to err. But they always love each other. They're family, the closest they have. Even if Yang didn't always manage to say 'I love you' back right away. Even if Ruby left her without a goodbye or even a note (the one she left at the end of Volume 3 was for Tai). They know where they stand with each other, even if it took Ruby a reassuring hug and an 'I love you' from Yang to be sure of that in Mistral.

There's Yang’s big heart. I've seen her described as the heart of team RWBY, and it's so true. Yang's intimidating when she wants to be, but she's so kind and caring, to the extent that it led to a rift of sorts with Ruby in Volume 8. Ruby was focused on the big picture, trying to get word out to all of Remnant about Salem, while Yang wanted to help save the population of Mantle before they were overrun by Grimm. Neither of them were wrong.

Yang takes hits, not just as part of her combat strategy to fuel her Semblance, but also to spare others who might not be able to take them as well as she can. Usually Ruby, but her other friends too. She draws Salem's attention away from Oscar when she threatens him, which could have gone so badly for Yang. But that's who she is. Those she loves matter more to her than her own life ever could.

And there's Yang's mothers. Her biological mother Raven, who abandoned Yang when she was a baby for reasons that still aren't clear, but likely to do with Raven being afraid of Salem. Yang's search for her almost got her and Ruby killed as young kids, and when Yang finally found her she was bitterly disappointed by who she found.

I don't hate Raven, I find her an interesting character, but she has without a doubt disappointed and hurt Yang, to the point where that was a large part of what reduced Yang to tears on claiming the Relic in Haven's vault.

Despite all that, Yang kept the fact that Raven was the Spring Maiden to herself, as far as we know. It wouldn't be the first time that a conversation about Raven took place off screen, as Jaune, Ren and Nora knew Raven was Yang's mother. Yet Yang only ever told Blake about her. And I can't see Blake gossiping about that. I figure Ruby likely told them at some point when on the long walk to Haven.

Then there's Yang's step mother, Summer, who took Raven's place so completely that Yang didn't know about Raven until after Summer disappeared. Summer, Yang's super-mom, who Yang must have tried to emulate when raising Ruby, but couldn't possibly be more than a pale shadow of. Yang was just a child, only two years older than Ruby. Summer is Yang's hero, and who she still considers as her mom, as she proclaimed to Salem.

Last but certainly not least: Blake and Yang. The Bees kissing are what drew me to RWBY in the first place, and Bumbleby is my OTP. They've been through so much together, and they deserve happiness with each other.

Yang was already my favourite months before the Volume 9 commentary revealed it, but it also means a lot to me that she's only just figuring out her sexuality. It took me a long time too.

This isn't every single thing I love about Yang, but it's what I could think of and get down in writing.

All of this is of course just my opinion. Maybe someone else from RWBY is your favourite. In that case I'm just glad another character can mean that much to you.

#Yang Xiao Long #RWBY Ruby #the sisters Xiao Long-Rose #Raven Branwen #Summer Rose #Bumbleby #long post #I hope that read more cut works #deadbeatbirdmom posts

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corvuscorona · 2 months

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The best thing about birthdays, all the time but ESPECIALLY in adulthood, is the opportunity they give you to really commit to a Themed Celebration of some kind.

I'm in adulthood + it was my birthday recently, and also, about 6 months before that birthday, @2000sanimeop & I were driven permanently insane by Stranger of Paradise, so obviously the only reasonable course of action was to invent an Astos-themed cocktail, learn to make edible crystals (for cake decorations), make burgers with squid-ink brioche buns, accidentally find a real recipe for a joke "what if tater tots were cube-shaped" idea we had at like 11:00 at night one time, and completely, fully go to town, all weekend, on manifesting The Jackstos Meal physically in our home.

(Art by @2000sanimeop)

Please allow me to sell you on the KING OF THE DARK ELVES.

First & most importantly, it tastes fucking amazing. Having chosen ingredients based mostly on wishes + vibes, I wasn't sure what to expect, exactly, but between the berry flavor of the cassis, the orange in the curaçao, & whatever arcane bullshit is going on with the indigo gin, the final product tastes impressively like bubbly sangria.

Secondly: one (1) of these things is enough, which feels appropriate, somehow. An Astos cocktail should be powerous, I think, & this POTION of a drink fits the bill.

It's elegant. It's over-the-top. There is so much alcohol in it. I cannot recommend the KING OF THE DARK ELVES enough.

If you can't find Astos-themed cocktail picks, homemade is fine.

[ Gold North Star Charm ] ☆ [ gold jump rings, any ] ☆ [ Circle Top Cocktail Picks ]

Now, about the crystals.

They're strawberry-flavored! We used this recipe for kohakutō, which uses just sugar, water, agar agar [1], food coloring, and flavor extract (plus citric acid, if you feel like it).

[1] Ignore what it says about having to use the one specific brand of agar agar. What they mean is that this recipe is written for agar agar with no included sugar; if there's sugar in the brand that's most available to you, just do math about it! (Sorry. It will work, though.)

It took a couple of hours to cut the crystal shapes, but it was enjoyable, meditative work, and the candy itself doesn't take long to make at all. We got strawberry flavoring specifically for candy-making, which came in very very cute small tiny bottles, at Michael's.

(The Birthday Soul Burst Cheesecake was orange-flavored, and also purple. This gave it an effect not unlike those skittles where the colors don't "match" the flavors, or a mystery flavor airhead, or some other Trick Food. It was awesome. Look at this thing!!)

But, hey, now that we know everything about the crystals...

Are those cubes?

(Yes.) There is a real, existing recipe, on our real internet, for cubes made out of grated russet potatoes. I made them. It was pretty easy, but if I had to do it again, I'd start earlier in the day (the "freeze the slab of cooked potato shreds before cutting it into cube shapes" step, while not strictly necessary, would have made it easier to get clean lines), and I'd probably try replacing the potato starch with a slurry of potato starch and water. I've used the slurry method for sweet potato fries in the past, and it gives them a really nice, crispy coating.

( I would, however, stick to my guns as far as "refusing to deep-fry them" goes. Nobody should have to deep-fry anything on their birthday. Also, I was correct to add some dried thyme and parsley while I was initially cooking the shreds. )

(Art by @2000sanimeop)

Overall, the Cubes were a good first attempt, and made an appropriate side to eat with the Burger of Darkness [2]. The little glass cauldron of terrifying red slop, to the left of the plate in the photo above, is of course Jack's Chaos Sauce [3].

[2] A normal burger, except that the bun was made with squid ink. My household is split 50/50 on whether this made it taste weird or not, but it LOOKED fantastic. Incidentally, if you're like me 1 calendar year ago & think burgers might be kind of a pain in the ass to cook indoors, check out this method from smittenkitchen. (The Burger of Darkness is topped with Colby-Jack (lol) cheese, dijon mustard, and the pickled red onions on this page, also smittenkitchen.) [3] I know what you're thinking. "What could that possibly fucking mean?" Well, it means that I combined mayonnaise, white vinegar, and S&B crunchy garlic topping, which are all 3 of the ingredients for a dipping sauce I have made in the past for also sweet potato fries, and then I added red food coloring until it looked scary and bad. It tasted perfectly acceptable, but dealt psychic damage to everyone present. I recommend trying this. For fun.

The skull-shaped cocktail picks, I bought on a whim well before I knew what I was ever going to do with them. I like to think that this was fate, speaking to me via deeply mysterious channels, as usual.

They now live with the Astos picks, in my cupboard, where I can easily reach them anytime I feel like it, which I hope will be often & for every possible reason.

🥳 💀 ✨

#stranger of paradise

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fantasy-mixtapes · 3 months

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Kristen Applebees S3 Playlist: Side A

Here's Part 1 of Kristen's Junior Year Playlist, I am obsessed with it so far and will probably continue to be. Descriptions and key lyrics below. Spoilers for Episodes 1-10

Genres include: Pop-Punk, Alternative, Punk, Folk

1. Lavender Bones, Stand Atlantic

I know I'm out of my depth, but I just float in it I try to do my best, stop picking fights with it I wanna be upset, you're not alright with it I can cover it up, I can cover it Try to speak my mind, wish it was by design But I can only confess to having doubts with it Don't wanna feel regret, I'm not alright with it I can cover it up, I can cover it

So this is a perfect background music for the start of a movie about Kristen's life right now and I LOVE finding those songs. It's perfect on so many layers, it talks about feeling trapped, wanting to fix empty habits, and not to mention how "lavender bones" really hits home to my queer little heart. This entire playlist is really a game of guessing when the "you" in songs chosen mean Tracker and when they mean Cassandra, level: impossible

2. Starchild, Sweet Pill

What do you want from me? I am not a charity Work hard at everything Do it all for free What do you want from me? I am not a guarantee Go all or nothing Lose your money ... Set up to win Wind up disappointing everyone In the end I am disappointing mostly myself In the end Hang your Head

I AM SO NOT NORMAL ABOUT THIS SONG Guys its like it was written for this very specific situation. AND THE TITLE???? FOR A CLERIC OF THE GODDESS OF MYSTERY, DOUBT, THE NIGHT, AND STARS???????

anyways just please please listen to it its so great like even without the connection to Kristen, go support Sweet Pill they have a new album being released tomorrow (March 15th)

3. Uneeda, Deady

What about the bones The bones have no problem Turn them into ash And this never happened Your ashes big asses Your brains on the pavement Oh no! I can feel myself rot Unless I take your hand

Ok so this is kind of a genre outlier on the playlist since it is very very alt punk but for me it represents the rage at the mall, Kristen's relationship to Cassandra, and both of their respective reactions to what happened. It's very chaotic, but it was a very chaotic situation and I stand by it plus I love adding modern bands to things

4. Bite the Hand, boygenius

I can't hear you You're too far away I can't see you The light is in my face I can't touch you I wouldn't if I could I can't love you how you want me to I can't love you how you want me to

Yeah, sorry had to whip out the queer break-up big guns. I don't feel sorry I feel right.

5. Untitled God Song, Haley Heynderickx

When you're drunk near a sunset, look straight in her eyes She's a quick glimpse of heaven, forgetting her headlights are on When you misread her fortune, don't misread the joke She's the note on your lampshade, the honeycomb holdin' you And she spins me around like a marionette Oh, my web is still spinnin' My web is still spinnin', you can't see it yet

Immediately going from having total contact with a divinity figure to having to grasp for straws once again to a memory you hold onto, literally holding onto the shards of your faith. Having to both embrace doubt and faith at the same time. Girlies, I'm ruined

6. C'est Comme Ça, Paramore

In a single year I've aged one hundred My social life a chiropractic appointment Sit still long enough to listen to yourself Or maybe just long enough for you to atrophy to hell ... I know that regression is rarely rewarded I still need a certain degree of disorder I hate to admit, getting better is boring But the high cost of chaos Who can afford it?

I love Kristen, and I think her arc this season is extremely relatable; currently, 90% of what she does are bits, and I KNOW it's a coping mechanism, but STILL, WHY ARE YOU SO MESSY. I love you; keep being 17, but god, keep your clothes on and stop going to the steel plants girlie you're gonna give Riz a heart attack

#dimension 20 #fantasy high #fantasy high junior year #d20 #d20 fhsy #fantasy mixtapes #kristen applebees #d20 kristen applebees #fhjy spoilers #d20 fhjy #ally beardsley #Spotify

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crimetimesteadicam · 5 months

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ok @morporkian-cryptid tagged me to do this fic author interview so here we go...

if you would like to do this, i am officially tagging you, yes you, right now. tag me back so i can see your answers

1 How many works do you have on AO3?

i got 40

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

1,044,749

3. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

sorry like none of these are lupin iii. a blight on my lupin iii blog

Wabisabi (991 kudos) - Spirited Away. idk it's short and cute, read it

BONES OF BLACK MARROW (952 kudos) - Homestuck. the infamous cyoa cannibalism sex fic. scrolling through the things people say about it in the bookmarks is always so funny

Cum mortuis in lingua mortua (925 kudos) - Homestuck. no clue why it has so many kudos lol it was like the first long thing i've ever wrote (a whole decade ago??? jesus). it's a d&d/discworld joke

Vanitas vanitatum (914 kudos) - Homestuck. the same d&d/discworld joke except the LI is turbo depressed. notable for being the only fic i ever outlined and edited and that's why it whips

Supermassive Retinol Overdose! (677 kudos) - hey look, a lupin fic made it on here!

4. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

i do when i have something meaningful to say besides "thank you!" i don't have a lot of thoughts about my own work so therefore i tend to not respond if there's not a direct question :( my head is empty. i always respond to every single comment on the last chapter of longfics though because i'm always impressed people read that far lol. genuinely, from the bottom of my heart, thank you for reading all that

5. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

idk uhhhh i wrote a series once where two of the main couples break up at the end, but it wasn't really angsty

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

they all end pretty happily

7. Do you write crossovers?

if i did it was so long ago i don't remember it

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

no but people used to send passive aggressive hate about my art in fics once in a while. hasn't happened in like 2+ years

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

yes. every kind. EVERY KIND

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

a bot will sometimes scrape my high kudos homestuck fics and plant them on a junk ebook site

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

yeah i think like 7 of them got translated into russian and do numbers on ficbook.net

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

in the past me and my friend would sit around a laptop and scream laugh write our way through crack fics

13. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

right now it's jiglup and fujilup

14. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

i finish almost all my WIPs because i'm a freak. if i don't finish a WIP it's because some dramatic life event happened. this has only occurred two times

15. What are your writing strengths?

im a funny binch

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

i don't outline or edit or re-read any of my fanfic. i just type it and then eyeball it for typos and then post it. i COULD outline and such to really make the narrative nice and tight, but i don't find it very fun to do (for fanfic) and this is like, my relaxing wind down hobby. i just wanna have fun haha. the only reason my fics like, make sense, is because i write at least one ending scene first thing and always aim for that, and also i write out of order so i kinda know the route of the story

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

it's fine if it makes sense to do it there as a narrative device

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

h-hetalia crack fic.....

19. What’s a fandom/ship you haven’t written for yet but want to?

once i figure out how to draw zenigata it's over for you bitches. luzeni hours on da clock

20. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

for lupin iii fic, i like Lightkeepers the best

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nimata-beroya · 6 months

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20 Questions For Writers

This was sitting on my notifs for a few days and i finally took the time to do it. Thank my darling @takadasaiko for the tag!! 💕💕

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

I have 88 works in total, 31 of which are for Star Wars.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

574,873 words.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Currently, I'm only writing for Star Wars. But I used to write for Arrow and Supergirl, and ASoIAF, Dark-Hunters and Chronicles of Nick are in standby. I'm waiting for right motivation to come back to any of the last 3.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

I'm only talking about Star Wars fics here...

Kadala (The Mandalorian) [and 4th place in most kudos of all my works]

Rough Awakening (The Bad Batch) [and 5th place in most kudos of all my works]

Welcome to Yavin IV (Rebels)

An Explosive Situation (Rebels)

Rescue on Ryloth (The Bad Batch)

And the the rest of my all-time fics with most kudos are

Take Your Breath Away (Arrow)

Undisclosed Desires (Arrow)

Made For You (ASoIaF/Game of Thrones)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I try my best, but sometimes I forget, and then it's been weeks and months since I got the comments that I'm embarrassed to reply them after so long. Even though, I think it's important that a writer let the reader/commenter that they appreciate it, even if it's with a simple "thank you" or an emoji. I know I'm being a hypocrite here since I fail to do what I preach, but it doesn't make it less true.

6. What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I think that would be Drifting, because it's kind of open ending, left to be interpreted, so it could end however the reader wants. Although, I left an author's note at the end saying what's my preferred ending, which always will be inclined to the happy side.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

High Above the Ground because is the happy ending i want for Commander Fox and Riyo Chuchi. They deserve only the best!

8. Do you get hate on your fic?

No, not really. I've gotten only 1 stupid message of someone criticizing a fic, but that was years ago when I still posted on FF dot net. The joke was on the reader because I moderated all the comments there so I just deleted it and nobody saw it but me. Honestly, I just laughed about it cuz their argument was just stupid.

9. Do you write smut?

I do, all kinds -from the most tame thing to the most perverted. But I used to wrote way more in my old fandoms, especially for Arrow. I think for Star Wars I've written just 1 or 2 smutty fics, and tamed at that.

10. Do you write crossovers?

I've tried a couple of occasions but never finished them. I'm not opposed to them obviously, but I do think the combination of fandoms has to be just right to work. Or at least, when it's me doing the writing.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Yes! Many, many years ago in the first fandom I ever wrote for. It was awful and hated it! You see, this was in the stone age of the internet when fandom specific sites abounded and not everyone had an account on FFnet yet (and Ao3 was not even a dream). The site I published on was split in 2 sections because the ships war in the fandom was bloody and ruthless, so to avoid the slaughter, I kept myself in my preferred side. But one day, a friend who read fic on both sides told me that someone stole my fics. Avoiding to get caught, the person who did it published them under a pen name that was almost exact to mine, she only added a period at the end, which could easily go unnoticed. Oh, and she interchanged characters names so it'd fit the other ship.

At first, my friend thought I had posted them but she knew I'd never write for that ship, like ever. In the end, it turned out that I wasn't the only one who had being plagiarized. Several people ON BOTH SIDES were. Thankfully, the person was caught and banned, but we almost burned the site down because of the whole shitshow.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

By me, yes, several. All into Spanish (my mother tongue). By others, not that I know of.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic?

Yes! A couple of times for different fandoms, and I loved it. I hope I'll do it again. The thing is that you need to find the right partner for it, or it can be a nightmare.

14. What‘s your all-time favourite ship?

I don't appreciate this question, let me tell you. It's hard to choose. But I think I have to go with Olicity. I love them still (even if the show ending ruined it for me). Close second would be Braime (and I'm glad that there's still hope for them on the books, because as usual the show fucked them so but sooooo bad)

And as Star Wars specific, I don't think anyone will be surprised if I say it's Kalluzeb, right 🤣 They're my babies and I adore them!

15. What’s the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Anything for Arrow or Supergirl. I sworn off those fandoms after their respectively awful endings.

No promises, but there's still hope for all if my unfinished works for Star Wars 😅

16. What’s your writing strengths?

Coming up with ideas. So, so many ideas. All the time and I want to write them all.

17. What’s your writing weaknesses?

Finishing writing the above-mentioned ideas. I tend to splay myself too much when I'm writing, and it takes me forever to get to the portion I really want to write (usually the idea that sparked the whole writing process) and I lose steam. That's why I have so many unfinished WIPs. I wish they'd write themselves.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

It's ok if used sparingly. A word here, a phrase over there is fine, but if a wall of dialogue that the reader needs to scroll down to the notes or click on a tooltip to find out the meaning it's the worst!!! A better solution for a writer that really needs/wants to have a whole conversation in another language for plot reasons or whatever, then all they need to do is to say once that the characters are talking in the other language and put the dialogue in the same language they've been writing the rest of the narrative and in italic.

The characters who don't speak the language won't understand what's being said, but the reader will and their reading will be more pleasant and fluid.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

An Argentinian show called Floricienta. A modern retelling of Cinderella.

20. Favourite fic you’ve ever written?

I don't like this question either! All my fics are my babies! How do you want me to choose?!! There are so many I'm proud of. I guess I'll point the most recent one: Feed Me Poison, Fill me till I Drown I really like how this story is coming along. It's not done yet (what else is new? 😅) but what's coming is so so good!

Tagging (no pressure): @renee561 @thecoffeelorian @genericficerblog @airlockfailure @mistr3ssquickly @insertmeaningfulusername @fanfictasia

#20 asks for writers #ask game #the mandalorian #the bad batch #sw rebels #kalluzeb #braime #foxiyo #mare writes star wars #and other things #olicity #long post

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something-bout-the-weather · 1 year

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I Don't Wanna Be Your Friend / Matty Healy x Reader

Thank you to the anon that gave me the idea for this one <3 It is the friends-to-lovers story of my dreams the longest thing I've written so please let me know what you think! Enjoy!

Present Day (Aged 22)

You can’t believe how quickly the past few years have flown by. Especially, now that you somehow find yourself unpacking boxes in your new home, the home you are sharing with your best friend, Matty.

You and Matty had only recently taken the plunge to rent a flat together in Manchester. You'd just got a job here after finishing uni and Matty's band had just finished their latest tour around the UK and he was ready to spend some time relaxing and starting work on their next album. You'd been best friends for 6 years now and it had just made sense to the pair of you to save on rent and get a place together.

Matty was unpacking his room and you yours. Music was streaming through the house and you found yourself reminiscing on the day you and Matty met at college all those years ago.

6 Years Ago (Aged 16)

It was your first day back at college after summer and you didn’t want to be there. You’d come prepared though, with your noise-cancelling headphones and the latest album you’d been listening to, on repeat, as you walked to the first class of the day, which was actually one of your favourite subjects, music.

Arriving into the classroom you noticed a few new people coming through the door. One, in particular, caught your eye. You’d seen him and his unruly head of curly hair in the college halls, always with a guitar case on his back, but had never spoken to him before. You’d always thought he looked cool but had been too shy to introduce yourself, maybe now was your chance.

The class had barely sat in their seats when the teacher announced a group project and explained that the pairs had already been chosen. As luck would have it, your teacher had picked the curly-haired guy as your partner, so you had no choice but to introduce yourself.

“Hi, I’m Y/N,” you announce as he made his way over to sit in the chair next to you.

“Matty,” he replies, “I think I’ve seen you in the halls but you always seem completely engrossed in whatever you’re listening to in your massive headphones,” pointing at the headphones currently hanging around your neck.

“Yeah, they are the only things that help me get through a day in this hellhole,” you joke.

“What are you listening to at the minute then?” he asked. This turned into a huge discussion about what music you listened to and how the pair of you had extremely similar music tastes.

Both of you, it turns out, had a lot more in common besides the music you listened to. You also shared some favourite TV shows and movies and even what you liked to do when you weren’t working through the endless amounts of college work. It was clear instantly that you were both going to get along.

The class seemed to pass quicker than normal and it wasn’t long before you found yourself heading out of the door towards your next class.

“Hey Y/N, wait up!” Matty shouted across the hallway making you turn around to find him in the crowd of students.

“Yes?” you reply, unsure of what he is about to say to you.

“What are you doing at lunch today?” he enquires.

“Nothing other than roaming these halls,” you respond, gesturing to the bustling halls around you.

“Fancy coming to the record shop in town with me and grabbing some food?” he asks with a pleading look in his eyes.

“Yeah, sure. Sounds like a plan. Meet back here at half 12?” you suggest to which he just nods, before turning and heading in the opposite direction down the hall.

Present Day (Aged 22)

You remember that day the pair of you had spent the remainder of the afternoon in the record store, flicking through the vinyls, getting to know one another and ditching your classes. You knew immediately you’d found a best friend in Matty and the pair of you had been inseparable since.

You hoped you'd made the right decision by renting a place with Matty as you found yourself in a bit of a tricky situation. Over the years, you'd slowly begun developing feelings for Matty. You couldn't think of anyone better to share a place with but it was a real worry for you that it would somehow ruin years of friendship if your true feelings for Matty ever slipped out.

You were completely unaware of the fact that Matty also had feelings for you too. His started to develop a lot earlier than yours though. They started to grow back when you gave him a Valentine’s Day card 4 years ago.

4 Years Ago (Aged 18)

The last two years had passed by in a blur. You'd made the decision to go to university and so far you were enjoying it. Matty on the other hand had joined a band and they were doing everything they could to have their music heard. He'd been so busy lately playing gigs in all sorts of venues and travelling around the country. Mix that with you being overloaded with uni work, and the pair of you hadn't seen one another for a couple of weeks.

So, the pair of you had planned on going to watch the latest Quentin Tarantino movie, on opening night, which just so happened to be Valentine’s Day.

“Happy Valentine’s Day!” you shout at your best friend as he makes his way over to where you are waiting for him outside of the cinema.

“Y/N don’t say that so loudly, how many people do you want to make think we are a couple?” he asks worriedly.

“People can think what they want Matty, we are just two best friends here to see a movie and catch up,” you reply nonchalantly.

After stopping at the counter to get some popcorn, sweet and salty at Matty’s request, you head for your seats.

“Before this movie starts, Healy, I have something for you,” you say as you dig into your backpack.

Little does Matty know you’ve got him a Valentine’s Day card and some chocolates. Neither of you has a Valentine’s this year so you thought it would be quite nice to get your best friend something to put a smile on his face and let him know you appreciate him.

Holding out the card and a box of his favourite chocolates you excitedly say “Happy Valentine’s Day Matty!”

Matty takes them from you in complete shock, before saying with a look of sheer terror on his face, “Y/N! I haven’t got you anything.”

“Don’t worry my dear,” you reply, “I’m just being silly and wanted to make you smile. Please open the card right now!”

Matty carefully opens the card with two eggs cuddled up on the front and the words ‘Thank you for being an eggcellent friend. Happy Valentine’s Day!’ surrounding them. You watch him contentedly as he reads out loud what is written inside, “To Matty, thank you for being my best friend. I will always be there for you, no matter what! Love you lots, Y/N!”

You watch as the smile grows on Matty’s face before pulling you into a hug and whispering softly “Thank you so much Y/N, you know I’m always here for you too.” He slowly pulls away before looking into your eyes and pleading “Can we make it a tradition to send each other a Valentine’s Day card each year? I’ll even give you one!”

“Of course!” you reply as Matty’s grin widens and he gently places a kiss on your cheek. You can't hide the look of surprise on your face and, it seems neither can Matty as it seems to be a shock, even to him.

Life clearly wants the pair of you to sit in your thoughts about this though as if on cue, the lights in the cinema dim and the film begins. So, both of you turn back to the screen with so many thoughts whirring around in your heads.

Present Day (Aged 22)

Even looking back on this memory you are still completely oblivious of the fact that from that day forward Matty had been slowly falling for you.

That day was also the start of one of many friendship traditions. Every year since then you'd sent Valentine's Day cards to each other, even if you couldn't see each other on the day. Always with an excellent pun on the front and some sentimental wording inside. One day you were sure it would have to stop when you got your own partners, but for now, it was a tradition you didn't want to break.

You looked back at the memory fondly and thought of all the other random traditions the pair of you held. Your favourite tradition was one which had begun two years ago on Christmas Eve. That was also the year that you started to develop feelings for Matty.

2 Years Ago (Aged 20)

You always spent Christmas at home no matter what. So that's why you find yourself waiting outside your hometown's freezing cold train station waiting for Matty to pick you up. He'd just finished the first leg of touring with his band, The 1975, to promote their first album.

You'd not seen him for two months now and you couldn't wait to catch up and start what you hoped would be a new tradition. The plan was to go to your parent's house straight from the station. They were celebrating Christmas with friends and wouldn't be home until late on Christmas Eve. So, your house was the perfect spot for the rest of your plan. Tonight, you were going to order a takeaway and watch a Christmas movie. Tomorrow, you were going to wake up early, exchange gifts and just enjoy the festivities.

Just before your toes became a block of ice, a car, blaring music through its speakers, pulled into the car park. Of course, Matty had to make an entrance.

He'd barely stopped the car before he was jumping out of it as if it had burst into flames. He ran around the front of the car with his arms wide before picking you up, spinning you around and enveloping you in the tightest hug possible as he shouted "Y/N!"

You were certain he could feel your heart beating out of your chest. You were sure that you'd avoided the cliché of crushing on your best friend but over the past few months, a feeling for Matty had started to build which you hadn't been prepared for.

Something about seeing him live out his dream, perform to a crowd and still make sure that his best friend was happy and doing well at the end of the day, had you going weak at your knees. Let's hope you could hide it and it wouldn't ruin a friendship that you truly adored.

"Hi Matty," you say back as he gently places you down on the solid ground again.

"How is my best friend?" He asks.

"About to freeze to death if we don't get to a warm house soon," you joke.

"Well, your carriage awaits m'lady," he says opening the passenger side door for you to get in.

Hours later you were both full of takeaway pizza, cuddled up on the couch watching Home Alone 2: Lost in New York. You could feel yourself dozing off but didn't want to spend all your time with Matty asleep but knew sleep was needed.

"Matty?" You ask sleepily.

"Yes love," he replies.

"Can we turn this off and head to bed? I'm shattered" You say barely managing to keep your eyes open.

"Of course dear," he responds before turning off the TV and lifting you into his arms carrying you towards your bedroom.

He places you gently on your bed before softly kissing you on your forehead and whispering "Night Y/N sleep tight, I can't wait to swap gifts in the morning. I've missed you so much," before heading back to his usual spot on the couch, in the lounge, and heading to sleep himself.

What Matty isn't aware of, is the fact you'd heard everything he said as he put you to bed last night and it was not helping your growing feelings for him, at all.

That didn't stop you from running into the lounge at 8 am screaming "Merry Christmas!"

Matty jumped out of bed, fists at the ready, to fight whoever had broken into your parent's house.

"It's me you idiot," you manage to get out between giggles, "I was only making sure you knew it was Christmas."

Somehow you find yourself all of a sudden, being thrown over Matty's shoulder, and put down on the couch before being ambushed with tickles. The pair of you can't stop laughing and honestly, you couldn't think of a better start to your Christmas, with Matty.

"Presents time!" Matty cries out as he guides you both to sit by the beautifully decorated tree.

You exchange a whole heap of gifts including books, records and matching sweaters for one another.

Just when you think the gift exchange is over Matty pulls a tiny box from under the tree and gestures at you to open it.

Inside it is a stunning necklace with his band's box logo hanging from it.

"Take a closer look Y/N, I'm not just using this gift for self-promo," Matty insists.

You turn the necklace over in your hands to see that engraved on one side of the box is 'Matty + Y/N x'. Tears start to form in your eyes.

"Matty, this is beautiful thank you so much," you say through tears.

"I got it so that you have a little bit of me with you every day even when I'm away on tour," he explained.

"I love it!" You exclaim before pulling Matty into a long hug. You couldn't ask for a better Christmas.

Present Day (Aged 22)

Toying with the box necklace that has been on your neck ever since that day you can't help but smile. You can't believe how lucky you were to have Matty as a best friend and now as a housemate. You just hope your growing feelings aren't going to get in the way of it all.

Suddenly, there is an almighty crash right outside your bedroom door and you immediately get up to see what it is that Matty has likely broken. Instead, you find him standing in your hallway looking sheepish.

“What’s up Healy?” you ask concerned.

“Y/N I don’t think I can’t do this,” he admits.

“I’m sorry Matty, you’ll have to be a bit more specific. You can’t do what?”

“This,” he gestures around himself, seemingly at the towers of boxes in the hallway.

“Jesus Matty, we’ve only just got here. Give it a couple of days and all these boxes will be gone,” you reply, sounding exhausted.

“No, not that,” he stresses before blurting out, “I can’t live with you and pretend I don’t have feelings for you. I’ve been crushing on you ever since you got me that Valentine’s Day card years ago. And, to be honest, I thought you were beautiful even before then.”

You stand there in shock, unsure of what to say.

“I’ve fallen for you, hard, over the past few years. I love how much you enjoy our silly sentimental traditions, I love your company even when it's just sitting together in silence. I love your laugh, your beautiful eyes and the smile you do after eating a good slice of pizza. Look, what I’m trying to say is I love you. I can’t hide my feelings anymore and I get it if you want me to leave. But, I just had to let you know before I drove myself insane.” He confesses before looking down at his feet, clearly embarrassed.

“Matty,” you say as you take his face in your hands and look directly into his gorgeous brown eyes, “I love you too, have done for years” you confess. And, with that, you do the one thing that you’ve wanted to do for years, kiss your best friend.

Your breathing is heavy as your lips press together. It was like you’d been preparing for this your whole life as you feel yourself relax into Matty’s warmth. You can feel the thud of Matty’s heart against your chest as he threads his fingers through your hair. You both know this could easily go further, without question, but there is so much that needs to be said first.

As you slowly pull away from each other, you hear Matty mutter, “Holy shit!”

You are sure your cheeks have gone bright red but you don’t mind at all as you confess to Matty, “Well, I don’t think we can exactly pretend we don’t have feelings for each other anymore.”

“According to all our friends, I was quite poor at hiding them anyway Y/N. I mean how didn't you realise I wrote Fallingforyou about you!"

You stand there shocked at the declaration Matty has just made.

"But it seems you were completely oblivious to that and many other things,” he jokes.

“Says you,” you manage to get out between laughs, “You were just as oblivious as me!”

You both stand there for a few seconds in contented silence, holding one another, before Matty asks “So, where do we go from here then?”

“I mean we’ve seemingly missed a few crucial steps and already have a place together so, I guess we continue unpacking, take things at our own pace and see where this goes. We already know each other pretty well and we’ve got years ahead of us, so let's just take this as it comes," you suggest.

"That sounds perfect to me! I love you Y/N” Matty professes.

“I love you too and I'm so glad I can finally say that out loud” you declare before your lips hurry to find his again.

Looking back on it now, you can’t believe how oblivious you had both been to the fact that you had been slowly falling for each other over the years. Who knows where this would go from here? But, one thing about it is certain, you cannot wait to find out.

#matty x reader #matty healy fic #matty healy x reader #matty the 1975 #matty healy #matty healy x y/n #matty healy x you #the 1975 fic #matty healy the 1975 #the 1975

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redheadspark · 6 months

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January Prompt Session (CLOSED)

I hope 2024 will be kind to you and a new year and possibilities! I'm beyond excited for the coming new year and the new sessions I'll write for certain! Let's start off the new year with a brand-new prompt session!

This Prompt's theme is: Denial of Feelings

Here are my rules:

1.) You may choose ONE character from my list Here. It’ll have the list of characters that I write for or have written for in the past.

*(If you have a character not listed that you wish for me to write, PLEASE MESSAGE ME AND CLEAR IT WITH ME FIRST TO SEE IF I CAN OR WILL DO IT!)*

2.) There is only One Prompt list for this session, you can request the number you wish for me to write. Please provide BOTH the numbers you would like AND the character to pair it with.

Example: May I have Aziel from ACOTAR with #5?

*I write out the requests as a first come first serve. I will try my best to fulfill every request that comes my way, but please bear in mind I work full-time as a teacher. Because of that, I’ll be busy most of the day so please be patient and I’ll write in my spare time as much as I can :) *

3.) If I get two requests that are exactly the same, (same character and same number) I will only write it once! Please don't be afraid to ask if someone has already requested the character and number, I don't mind answering that for you :)

4.) You can request in my ASK box neither as yourself or anonymously. Although I would LOVE to give you a shout if you request as yourself, anon is perfectly fine!

5.) I will stop taking requests for this prompt session on Sunday, January 7th, at 3:00 PST

6) Have fun and enjoy :)

Prompt list by @novelbear

"are you crazy? they're not my type, you know that."

"i don't have time for a relationship." "that has nothing to do with anything i just said. like at all."

"they're annoying as hell, no i don't have feelings for them."

"i honestly don't even know who you could possibly be referring to."

"what if i told you i said those types of things about everyone? then what?" "i would really hope you didn't. oh god."

"i do not want to see their face, hear their voice or their name for that matter. stop talking about them."

"what gave you that idea?"

"why does everybody keep saying that?"

"it's just been a while since i've had a close friendship like this, that's all."

"no.....no."

"i wasn't blushing! it was hot out." "it is literally snowing outside as we speak are you joking."

"i don't even like them like that i don't know what you mean."

"i'd do that for anyone!"

"flirting? me? i wouldn't say i was."

"cut it out, i'm tired of hearing you guys tease me about this."

"that's not true, where did you hear that from?"

"they're just a friend. that's all."

"we've been friends since we were little, we're practically siblings! no!"

"love?! you think i'm in love?"

"i know what having a crush feels like and this is nothing close..." "have you considered that it's because this is more than just a crush?" "stop talking."

Once again, this prompt session will end on Sunday, January 7th, at 3:00 PST

Thank you and happy requesting!

Tagging - @a-lumos-in-the-nox @botanicalbarnes @heliosphere8 @virtueassassin @ethereal-athalia @heartofwritiing @valeridarkness @pemberlyy @saradika

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filtercoffeeonsteroids · 2 years

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Why I love desi tumblr:

1. Every other person is expressing their love for chai

2. Moodboards for the most obscure and wonderful things, that I can't seem to live without now

3. SO MUCH INDIAN MYTHOLOGY. I can find anything from krishna-subhadra to panchali-arjun to bheem-duryodhana. It's fantastic. I'm in love.

4. The vibes. The VIBES >>>> . I feel like I'm sitting in front of a window, and it's raining and I'm having chai and pakoras whenever I open my tumblr and it's the best feeling ever.

5. Love the fact that people rant about their exams on here. Especially CBSE. I'm in college now, so it gives me immense and a somewhat twisted joy in laughing about the torture CBSE is putting them through, because, well, my time with that wretched institution is done.

6. The correlations between the supposed western world with indian mythology have my heart. I love how this generation of desis finds similarities in real life to what is written in the epics. For instance, I read a note on krishna and subhadra arguing over the TV remote!!

7. I just witnessed the circulation of Mahabharata memes and desis hating on yudhishthir (and rightfully so, he was an idiot who thought that keeping his wife as a prize in a fucking ludo game was wise) and I have never felt more content.

8. Just had an indepth argument/conversation/whatever we do on tumblr about how a golgappa's rightful name is gol gappa and not panipuri Or phuchka. I feel obligated to let you know that I have crowned myself the winner of this debate.

9. Just found out that draupadi invented golgappa. I owe this discovery to point no. 8. We, as a nation, owe her everything.

10. Found a really nice krishna-balram-subhadra appreciation post a few days back and I love how it was so eloquently written <3

11. SO MANY RRR FANFICS. I absolutely love the ram x bheem love stories ohmygod. I've also come across some smutty ones on tumblr and I've got to say- we have an active imagination 😏

12. All my mutuals loved the latest dad joke I posted- it's getting so much attention, I love it 😌

13. All of desi tumblr us freaking out about the indian origin candidates for the position of Britain's prime minister and I love the irony of how the country that colonised us for 200 years will maybe have an Indian origin prime minister 😌

14. I recently posted about how chicken tikka masala was Britain's national dish and I LOVED the responses xD

15. Adopting recent Instagram trends into indian mythology!! I just saw the "she's a 10" Trend being adapted to Indian Gods and Goddesses 😭💓

16. The shayari on the moon by desis is the reason I live.

(I'll be editing this whenever I find more reasons, but please add to the list!!!)

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lil-tachyon · 8 months

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You mentioned Clark Ashton Smith. Which of his stories would you recommend? So far I've been underwhelmed.

Context for anyone who doesn't know: Clark Ashton Smith was one of the "Big Three" of Weird Tales (the other two being Lovecraft and Robert E. Howard) and is certainly the least famous. Even if you don't know who Lovecraft or Howard are, you've probably heard of Cthulu and Conan the Barbarian. Smith is also certainly the weirdest of them all by a good margin and the most inconsistent in his writing. You pick up a Lovecraft story and 90% of the time it's going to be at least competently written and you know the broad strokes of what the content will be (unnameable cosmic horrors, nervous breakdowns, and often very explicit racism). A Smith story is just as likely to feel like it was written by an accomplished poet as it is to feel like a teenager's drivel. And it could be about wizards at the end of time, or spacewrecked astronauts, or medieval French bishops. The only consistent thing about his work is that you'll need a dictionary by your side while you read it. Get ready for words like "mephitic," "hippocephalic," and "cyclopean" to be abused in ways that even Lovecraft probably found egregious. (Emperor of Dreams? More like Emperor of Purple Prose! Haha, good joke Logan.) The bizzarity and unevenness of his output are probably the qualities that I find so engaging about it and also the things that have kept him from being as beloved as his peers into the present day.

Anyway, I haven't done a deep-dive on Smith since I read his complete works all the way through. Some of his stories are pretty fresh in my mind, but most of them I haven't read in 5-6 years. Keep all that in mind and I'll put my recommendations below the break:

"The Vaults of Yoh-Vombis": Definitely my personal favorite Smith story and probably one of his best. If you don't like this one, it's unlikely you'll be a fan. On its own a very good "ancient cosmic horror" story, what really makes it stand out is it's setting: a near-future (relative to the 1932 publication date) Mars that has been colonized (in a very 19th century sense of the word) by humans. The Martian city of Ignarh is apparently a hub for interplanetary commerce and the subaltern Martian indigenous population provide local guides for human archaeologists to study (and no doubt exploit) the ruins of ancient civilizations that abound on the planet. Smith wrote two other stories in the same setting, "The Dweller in the Gulf" and "Vulthoom" that re-tread the same plot beats but lend a little more color to the Martians themselves. A writer capable of viewing the Martians as sympathetic peoples rather than as "native savages" could've spun this setting into something truly great. Richard Corben also does a fantastic comic adaptation.

"The Abominations of Yondo": Didn't like the first recommendation? I'll take one more shot at making you a fan. "Abominations" is a very short read that manages to contain all the hallmarks of a classic Smith story. Nobody else does it like him and if you don't like it then you just don't like it.

"City of the Singing Flame": A story of inter-dimensional exploration that manages to weave together Smith's obvious love for his home state of California with his penchant for imaginary places beyond time and space. It has a sequel that I thought was okay but most people dislike. If you like this story, it's probably better to treat it as a standalone.

"A Night in Malnéant": A somber, dreary horror tale that I don't think gets enough love or at least isn't anthologized particularly often. Tones down the weirdness a bit, but in a good way.

"Isle of the Torturers": Far-future horror-fantasy that really sticks the ending. Also does the same thing as "Yoh-Vombis" where it has a setting that's only briefly introduced but could easily be spun into a full-on novel. Great Halloween read.

Off the top of my head, those are some of my personal favorites. "Return of the Sorcerer" gets anthologized a lot. It's not weird enough for me but I think it's considered one of his better stories. Similarly I'm not a big fan of his Averoigne cycle of stories (set in medieval France), but if you want some dark ages sword and sorcery, "Mother of Toads" and "The Colossus of Ylourgne" are the ones I liked best.

I'd also like to mention "The Great God Awto" which is a truly bad short story but notable for being one of the earliest pieces of anti-car fiction of which I'm aware. Predates Bradbury's "The Pedestrian" by more than a decade.

Also if you can't find any of Smith's work at your local library, check out eldritchdark.org. I believe all his fiction is available for free here as well as his visual art and other resources.

#send me an ask!#clark ashton smith #h. p. lovecraft #robert e. howard #weird fiction

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whiskeyswifty · 1 year

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I gotta be honest I’m really impressed by how Taylor still processes her emotions regarding her father through her art and shares that with fans but that’s still something that is in a weird way so public but so private to the extent that no media outlet has ever written about it in depth before. It’s just fascinating how people see certain things but don’t see the rest. It makes you wonder what else Taylor has shared that the public doesn’t fully understand

oh yeah i mean i'm probably the best person to send this ask to in that i've been that annoying bitch screaming from the rooftop that we don't know her at all for idk 6-7 years now lmaooo. i will also say that because that still stands for me, i'm resistant to the idea that we can say with certainty that subject matter about fathers are about her father exactly. we can only read into what we want to, but i'm not the blog for you if you want to definitively talk about Knowing Things About Her. art is always hyperbolic or dissociative or retconning things through fiction or projecting hopes and dreams through fiction. Even she has said not everything in her songs is actually true and she adds things to embellish or throw people off sometimes. so i don't wanna say all of the lines about fathers are necessarily about her father, confirmed, especially since she hasn't really said that herself. and i think that's why media outlets haven't picked up on it or strayed away from it, as it's all speculation at this point.

but i do find it an interesting insight that mothers in her songs gets the most delightful, loving lines and songs about how comforted and protected she is by her mother and devastated at the thought of losing her. and while there are nice lines written about fathers like "i love your handshake, meeting my father" or "charmed my dad with self effacing jokes", those lines aren't directly about the father, but about how she's impressed when a partner gets her father's approval. those are the nicest lyrics about fathers, and the rest are quite flippant verging on damning. "leaving like a father" or "careless man's careful daughter" or the one that's top of mind from seven about a presumably aggressive and/or verbally abusive father. it's just a fascinating comparison, how she paints mothers and fathers in her songs, and glaring in a way as well considering the STARK contrast. When you compare that to how she talks about her parents in real life, it's even more interesting! When talking about her mom, the sentiments line up pretty squarely with how mothers are depicted in her music, but when talking about her father, it's like night and day. She doesn't gush about her father in the way she does about her mother, no, but she says nice, charming things about him and only ever positively talks about him. because OF COURSE she would. why would she air her family drama to the public? her parents were divorced for YEARS before it became widespread fandom knowledge and still i don't think she's ever acknowledged it. maybe once, but hardly ever if that. i just find it so fascinating, and revealing in a way, that the most impressive thing a partner can do in her songs in regards to her parents is win over her father. perhaps something that's been somewhat elusive for taylor herself as she has strived for it, however subconsciously.

and also we have that scene from miss americana where she starts crying almost instantly when arguing with her dad about speaking out about politics. a scene i personally can't really watch often because of how it's an almost one to one mirror of my own conversations with my dad, down to how i also just start crying almost right away and how flippant and stubborn he is in refusing to understand where she's coming from. the most narrow minded approaches that he has and getting super defensive when she tries to get him to hear her point of view, as if what's most important to him is that he still comes off like a good person and not his daughter literally crying because of their dispute over something so personal. i shiver just thinking about it because of how i've been in that exact situation, and i deeply sympathize with her. it's a glimpse into how perhaps it's a rocky relationship and because of that, maybe she keeps her distance and keeps it a surface level relationship. i know i do with my dad to preserve the peace and my own sanity. it's a tricky thing to navigate, having a parent who loves you but doesn't fully respect your autonomy and even clashes with you ideologically to the point of diminishing you as a person, however unintentionally. they love you, but not fully in the way you maybe want them to. having a tricky relationship with a parent like that is really hard to talk about to a fucking therapist, let alone baring that to the public in art that can be picked apart. i wouldn't blame her for a second if she's shied away from that aspect of her life in her art for the most part. it bleeds through in her general depiction of fathers, as you said, and that's one of the ways that maybe helps her cope, idk who can say. i recognize that in her art and in that scene in particular just because i have those exact experiences in my life, but that doesn't mean that what i see is actually there in the same way i'm seeing it! it could be partially my projection, but it's also not uncommon and she is not immune to having the typical Tumultuous Father/Daughter friction relationship that seems to affect 90% of the world's daughters of fathers lmao.

i'm always trying to get people to the same realization you have which is that as much as she wants people to think she's an open book, she's really not. no human being could be, that's impossible they'd go insane. we only see the tip of the iceberg that is her life, even when it comes to her romantic relationships. most of her life, the 80% of it or whatever the iceberg stat is, goes entirely unnoticed and undisclosed. we see a very specific sliver of her that she CHOOSES to share with us, that she's painted with her favorite colors and is most comfortable revealing. we are not privy to the full reality of her life, the full scope of who she is as a person and what she does and engages with every day. there are ugly parts she doesn't want us to see, and also things she just plain doesn't want to share to keep herself feeling like a human being with a life that is her own. and yes there are some things she hints at through her art like you said, perhaps some of the details of her complicated relationship with her father. but also as you pondered, yes probably a myriad of other troubles or thoughts or experiences that are so vaguely referenced, nobody has ever picked up on them. but that's the point! she doesn't want to share them in a way that they can be consumed and taken from her. i think that's great and part of why she's somewhat of a stable famous person, so it appears (or at least hasn't had a gone of the deep end spiral like many famous people used to do like clockwork). maybe one day she will feel comfortable talking about her interpersonal relationship with her father in detail, but probably not and she never has to if she doesn't want to. there's a sort of dignity preservation in that i can understand completely, and a protectiveness that comes with that sort of relationship. as much as you may have disdain for your father, the burden of the daughter is that unimpeachable love that compels you to care for them despite what they do and want to protect them. she may hate him, but according to her, only she is allowed to hate him, that sort of thing, and we don't even know how she feels about him in totality. so she may want to keep that part of her life close to her chest and die without anyone ever knowing and that's entirely her decision to make, probably the best and most healthy one if you ask me.

anyway happy fathers day from taylor who says dads ain't shit!

#i don't think they are LEGALLY divorced also idk i haven't looked into it #they're probably just separated which is like divorced but without all the legal drama #probably to spare taylor the public drama and also idk they don't want people in their business #ending your marriage is sad already let alone having the world watch it happen cuz they're obsessed with your kid

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