#or putting him in a jar and shaking him around

[munsonsmixtapes]

This Little Life (1)

Eddie Munson x fem!reader

These are little glimpses of your life with Eddie as you grow up together

Summary: You move to Hawkins with your mother and you and Eddie quickly become friends

cw: both Eddie and reader have complicated relationships with their parents

This is only part one and part two will be posted very soon!

Part One - Eight Years Old

You wake up to the sound of gravel crackling underneath the tires of your mom’s old minivan. You look around the trailer park through your tired eyes, squinting because of the bright sun that’s reflecting into the rearview mirror where you can see your mother’s eyes. 

She turns to you, cigarette between her lips like always. She puts on that bright smile that always brings you comfort then reaches a hand out to you. Even at your young age, you’ve never had a great relationship with your mother. 

Teresa is very hands on when she wants to be. Then sometimes, she’ll just disappear and leave you by yourself for days on end. For years, you remember randomly being dropped off at your grandparents house. And then when she decided you were old enough to be home alone by yourself, she’d just leave you there and come and go as she pleased. 

She’s a lot better about it now, but on occasion, you’ll wake up to a note posted somewhere around the house that she’ll be back whenever with a little cash to order a pizza or something like that. Even though she’s never around, Teresa always makes sure that you’re fed well. 

“This isn’t like the other places, sugar,” she says sweetly. That’s always been her nickname for you and you’re too nice to tell her that you actually hate it. “We’re here to stay.” 

How many times have you heard that? You make a mental note to add another dollar to your jar. Only a few more and you can finally get that necklace you’ve been wanting. You saw it the one time Teresa took you to the mall and you haven’t forgotten about it since. 

“Okay,” is all you reply. What else is there to say? She’s been telling you this since you were old enough to talk and she’s never been right. There’s always something or someone who runs her off just when you’re getting settled. It’s gotten to the point where you don’t even bother making friends because you know you’re just going to turn right around and pack up and leave. 

“Aren’t you excited?” She asks, her face lighting up as she speaks. You just ignore her and get out of the car, retrieving your backpack that you keep all your valuables in. You make sure to never let it out of your sight because it’s not uncommon for Teresa to sneak into your room and steal your belongings to sell when she needs a little extra cash. 

You look around the trailer park to get acquainted with your new space and pause when you turn to your left. There’s a man and a boy on the porch of the trailer across the way. You can’t exactly hear what’s being said, but you can hear the man yelling. The boy looks unbothered like he’s heard this kind of thing before. But the man is jabbing his fingers in his face, his voice louder now. 

“Don’t ever do that again or else there will be serious consequences. Do you understand me?” The boy just nods and the man pushes him aside by the top of his head before storming off to the truck that’s parked outside of the trailer. He gets into the driver’s seat and slams the door before driving away so fast the wheels kick up dust, causing you to cough. 

You look at the boy, feeling nothing but empathy for him. How many times have you had those kinds of conversations with Teresa? How many times have you been in his exact position? You almost want to go over and comfort him, but he doesn’t seem to be in the mood. He just shakes his head, giving you a glance before heading inside. 

You try to forget what you’ve just seen and grab one of the boxes from the trunk and take it inside. The trailer is smaller than you expected but you’re not complaining. You know that other kids have nothing so you’re going to be grateful for what you do have. 

You head to what you’ve decided is your room and your blow up mattress is already there. Teresa has promised you a real bed for years but you’ve decided to stop expecting one. Your life has been filled with empty promises from her and you’re not going to start believing her now. 

You set the box in the center of the room and keep your backpack on your back because you know it’ll disappear if you leave it somewhere. You’ll never forgive her for selling the jewelry box your grandmother gave you before she passed away. It was the only thing you had left of the woman and now it’s gone just like most of your belongings. 

There are times when you feel like you want to run away. You always think that if you left, she’d never come looking for you. You always feel like you were something she got stuck with instead of actually being a mother to you. 

You sometimes wonder what your father is up to and if he’d take you in. You’ve never met the man but according to Teresa, he wasn’t all that. She said that she’d tell you more when you get older, but you’re not sure that’s true. It’s easy to tell when she’s lying to you because she’s done it so much. 

Sugar, I told you that I don’t know where the damn jewelry box is. It must have gotten lost in the move. 

I didn’t have enough to buy you dinner. 

I love you, sugar. 

Lies. All of it. And even at eight years old, you’re able to see right through her. You don’t even know why she comes back. She could leave and you wouldn’t be surprised. She wouldn’t have any responsibilities. She could go wherever she wanted. And then she could finally admit that never actually gave a shit about you. 

In fact, every morning you wake up and are surprised when she’s there. You’re honestly waiting for her to just up and leave you to have to take care of yourself for the rest of your life. And the worst part of it is that you kind of wish she would. You know she doesn’t love you and you don’t love her. You already take more care of yourself than she ever had so it’s not like you care anyway. 

-

Eddie’s used to new neighbors, but they never seem to be kids. They’re always adults or teenagers that are too old to play with. It’s not like he wants to play with you anyway-he likes to be by himself the best. But he has to admit that you intrigue him. 

He’s only seen glimpses as you’ve left your trailer but there’s something about you that’s drawing him in. He hates to admit that he wants to get close to you even though he’s scared. That’s why he likes being alone-because he still has scars that are healing. He’s always been the weird kid who no one seems to want to hang out with. He thinks that’s why he’s always been ashamed to be himself. 

But now that he’s seen you playing outside by yourself, he can’t help but want to join you. You just look like you’re having so much fun as you run and play with the seemingly very loved stuffed bunny you’ve got under your arm. He’s wondering what its name is and if you’d let him hold it. 

Before he can stop himself, he steps out onto the porch, slowly inching closer to you. If he doesn’t think too much about it, he can introduce himself. He’s just scared. He doesn’t want to be rejected again. But for some reason, he doesn’t think you’ll do that to him. 

He knows that all of those words from Alan that are replaying in his head are just a bunch of lies. He knows that he’s not worthless or a loser. He has so much potential and when he looks at that Black Sabbath poster that Wayne bought him, he just knows that’s gonna be him one day. 

He wants to make music so badly that his hands itch to touch the guitar his dad left with all of his other stuff. But he can’t bring himself to actually play it. Because he knows the second that he gets his hands on it, Alan is going to walk through the door and give him yet another black eye. 

You notice him walk across the gravel and turn to face him. You’ve seen him before, sometimes out on the porch with a comic book or a coloring book and some markers. He’s cute, you think. Well, as cute as an eight-year-old can be to another eight-year-old. 

“Hey!” You greet him, all smiles and Eddie thinks you’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. Your smile is bright and just by seeing it, he somehow knows he can trust you. It’s like all of that weight that sits on his shoulder somehow vanishes when your eyes look into his. They’re pretty and have a warmth to them that makes him feel like he’s being wrapped up in a blanket that’s fresh from the dryer. 

“I’m y/n,” you put your hand out for him to shake. “I just moved in.” Your voice is sweet and bubbly and he thinks he wants to hear it over and over just because he likes how it sounds. 

“I’m Eddie,” he replies, feeling more outgoing than he normally would. He always feels shy around people he doesn’t know. But not today-not with you, apparently. 

“Eddie,” you repeat and he likes the way you say it, how your lips for the words. It sounds much better than how his dad says it-like a slur, just further proving that he doesn’t care about him. “I like that. Is it short for something?” 

“Edward, but no one ever calls me that. I’m Eddie. Just Eddie.” 

“Well, Eddie, do you want to play with me?” He doesn’t think he’s ever heard those words in his life. No one ever wants to play with him at school because they think he’s trailer trash. He can still hear the insults ringing in his head. 

Look at what he’s wearing. 

Did you see how his hair is cut? 

He’s so poor he can’t even afford a lunchbox. 

And that’s what they say when he’s within earshot so he can’t imagine what they say behind closed doors. He hates that he cares so much when they don’t actually know him, but it hurts. It hurts that he’s seemingly the only kid at school who doesn’t have any friends. And when he comes home, he’s alone when his dad and uncle Wayne are at work. He just always feels like no one wants to be around him. Well, besides Wayne. And you now, he guesses. 

He knows that he just met you but he already wants to show you his DnD collection. The collection that Wayne worked extra shifts to purchase for him. And he bought it after watching his brother tell Eddie that the whole thing was childish and a waste of time and money. 

But Wayne saw how longingly his nephew looked at all of the books and sets and decided that he deserved a treat. Eddie’s a good kid despite what Alan thinks and now it’s a whole custody battle since it’s clear that there’s alcoholism along with drug use as well Eddie’s mistreatment.  

Eddie knows that his dad doesn’t act like a real one. If anything, Wayne has been more of a father figure to him. All of his good memories include that man and he will always be grateful to have him in his life. The only thing he ever got from his dad was his music taste and a lesson on how to hotwire a car.

“What are you playing?” He seems genuinely interested in spending time with and that throws you off. You’re so used to being invisible so it feels weird that he actually wants to talk to you. This kid doesn’t even know you yet seems much more interested in you than Teresa-your mother, your own flesh and blood. 

“I was seeing how fast I can run. Do you want to race?” Your face lights up as you ask and Eddie can’t help but say yes. How could he possibly say no to that pretty smile? 

You clutch your bunny to your chest as you countdown before the two of you race down the dirt road. You’re both running so fast and you swear you’ve never felt this free-like you could go anywhere. You turn behind you and your trailer is getting smaller as the weight on your chest lessens. 

You always knew that weight was the trauma caused by Teresa, but being so far away from her makes you feel weightless. Like you could do anything and not have your mother weighing you down. You wonder what would happen if you left right now. If you just took off with your money jar, your backpack and Bunny. You consider it once you fall into the patch of grass by the woods. You look into them and can’t help but think about leaving and never coming back. But you don’t. 

Deep down, you’re too scared. You don’t know why you’re so afraid of disappointing her even though that’s all she’s done your whole life. She needs you. How would she keep a job if you didn’t wake her up every morning? How would the bills get paid if you weren’t the ones paying them? How would she eat if you didn’t remind her that she can’t spend her entire paychecks on cigarettes and alcohol? 

You know that it shouldn’t be your problem, but it is. You don’t get to choose who your parents are and you just happened to get the mother who didn’t want to be a mom. You wonder what she’d be doing now if she hadn’t had you at eighteen. Oh, who are you kidding? She’d be doing the exact same thing now but she wouldn’t have to lug you around. 

Eddie falls into the grass to your left and for a second, you completely forgot that he was there. He turns to face you with that boyish smile and those warm Bambi eyes and for the first time in your life, you think you’ve finally found a friend. 

“Do you like metal?” He asks and you look at him confused. “Well, what do you like?” The only music you can remember Teresa ever playing was whatever radio station was on at the time. 

“I like Dolly Parton,” you reply with the first singer you can come up with. Eddie only knows who that is because he hears her when Wayne puts on a record while he makes dinner. He would never judge someone for their music taste, but he’d never admit that he kind of likes her either. And maybe he likes Fleetwood Mac, but that cassette tape he’s got under his bed is between him and God. 

“My uncle Wayne likes her but-” he’s unable to finish his thought because he hears Wayne calling for him from the porch of their trailer. “Coming!” He calls back then turns back to you, that sweet smile on his face again. “Do you want to come over? We’ve got lemonade and an extra TV dinner.” He doesn’t tell you that they only have the extra TV dinner because Alan isn’t coming home tonight. But he’d much rather have your company anyway. He barely knows you but can already see a beautiful friendship blooming in his head. He really hopes that you feel it too. He’s been burned time and time again but he thinks he’s finally ready to take another leap. Somehow, he knows that you’ll catch him.

“I’d love to,” you reply as he reaches his hand out for you to take. You race each other to the Munson trailer and you can’t help but think about how much more cozy it feels once you step inside. There’s decor-albeit, tacky, but it still feels like a home. You just got there and yet somehow feel like you belong. 

You take in everything, turning this way and that and when you finally see Eddie’s uncle, you just know that he’s a nice man. He’s got the same sweet smile and warm eyes that Eddie does and for whatever reason, you know that you can trust him. In fact, this is the safest you’ve felt your entire life. 

“Hey there,” he smiles wide. “I’m Wayne and who might you be?” 

“Y/n,” you reply and he nods. 

“Well, y/n, I hope you like meatloaf.” You follow him into the kitchen and there is, in fact, meatloaf. But it’s the actual dish as opposed to the TV dinner Eddie mentioned. And it smells incredible. You’ve never had a home cooked meal before-Teresa can’t cook for shit-so you’re nothing but grateful as Wayne serves you a slice along with some mashed potatoes and broccoli. 

The three of you head to the table where there’s a pitcher of ice cold lemonade that Eddie serves the three of you. You all sit and eat dinner together, chatting like you’re old friends. It’s the best meal you’ve ever had and the company isn’t bad either. And as Wayne sends you home with leftovers, both him and Eddie making sure you get inside okay, you begin to think that maybe you’re going to like it in Hawkins.

[nachosforfree]

Putting your William in a jar and shaking him around

[whimsymoonpages]

chapter 24. under pressure

cw: injury, brief medical emergency (concussion), family tension, implied toxic family dynamics, reader is a badass and barty is charming as always

the next several weeks go by beautifully. the boys have been doting on you entirely too much, but you allow it. they kiss you, cuddle you, hold you from behind, and gods it's everything you ever dreamed of. but still, you have a job to do. 

currently, you and barty are in the middle of reorganizing the creature archives.

the air smells faintly of old parchment, crushed beetle eyes, and a lingering hint of singed feathers, a leftover accident from last week’s jar explosion. you’re perched precariously on a step ladder, the wooden rungs creaking under your boots, arms full of disorganized files that crackle and snap like they resent being touched.

"no, no, no, the flobberworms go on the bottom shelf. the salamanders go on top," you grumble, your fingers struggling to balance the weight of the unruly stack.

"what if i put them in the middle?" barty teases from below, one hand lazily levitating a crate of jars labeled with increasingly worrying warnings. 'DO NOT DROP. WILL EXPLODE GOO.'

"you’ll upset the entire categorization system. you’ll send newt into cardiac arrest."

"ooh, maybe he’ll let me take a longer lunch then." barty daydreams and nearly drops the jar.

"barty!" you shriek, your wand pointing at the ground just below the jar. he's lucky you're a brilliant witch, otherwise he'd be covered in the goop!

he smirks, catching the crate and shoving it onto the shelf anyway. "oh, lighten up. you know he loves me."

before you can retort, a paper airplane from the auror’s office zips into the room, smacking barty right in the temple. he startles, swatting at it like it bit him.

"bloody hell. hostile post."

you snatch it from the air, brow furrowing as you read. 

'auror field training. erumpant on site. immediate assistance required in wimbourne.'

your stomach drops. "james is on field training today."

barty’s grin fades instantly. "what?"

"it’s his group, junior. it has to be."

you don’t wait. you’re already sprinting toward the equipment room, grabbing your wrangling tools, your wand, and one of newt’s enchanted cases. if an erumpant was in their field, you'd need to put it someplace safe. fast. 

barty is on your heels, still shoving protective gear over his shoulders. "we’ve got this, yeah?"

"we’ve got this," you echo, though your heart is thudding painfully. "i hope."

you apparate to the field in a crack of displaced air, the damp grass squelching under your boots as you land hard.

the scene is chaos.

an enormous erumpant is barreling through spells, its thick hide shimmering under the pressure of magic. aurors-in-training scatter in all directions. you spot frank longbottom ont he ground, his temples bruised and bleeding. to your right, kingsley shacklebolt is firing defensive spells, his face tight with focus, and then—

james. wand raised, yelling, his curls wild in the wind. your chest seizes.

"james!"

he doesn’t hear you. he and kingsley are trying to back the creature into a rocky alcove, but it’s not enough. you shove your way forward, barty right at your side.

"hands off! we’ve got this!" you shout, throwing your hands up to get james and kingsley to fall back.

james stares at you, a flicker of relief, but the ground shakes as the erumpant charges again. james stumbles, his foot catching on uneven rock. his head snaps backward as he hits the ground hard. your heart lurches.

"james!" you scream louder than you ever have before.

barty grabs your wrist, yanking you back. "focus! now!"

you bite down the panic, your grip tightening on your wand. together, you and barty weave around the beast, stunning it from both sides.

"stupefy!" you yell with all your might, momentarily stunning the creature. this angers it, and it rears, roaring. you slide under its guard as barty distracts it by stomping his feet and sending sparks at the creature. you silently cast the shrinking spell and fall to the ground. barty snaps the suitcase open just in time to capture it.

it’s done.

you collapse into barty’s arms, shaking. "we did it. merlin, that was so much scarier than our day job."

barty laughs, breathless, holding you close to him. "darling, that is our day job."

you rush to james as he starts to stir, groaning as he sits up. "did we win?"

"you were unconscious, antlers." barty says flatly, though visibly relieved that everything worked out okay.

"still counts."

kingsley claps you on the shoulders, his calm returning now that the threat is gone. "impressive. it’s no wonder mr. scamander keeps you both around."

healers arrive swiftly, loading james and frank longbottom onto stretchers. you squeeze james’s hand as they prepare to take him to st. mungo’s.

"i’ll meet you there," you promise. "barty’s going to get remus and sirius."

barty is already gone, sprinting through muggle london. he doesn’t stop running until he bursts into remus’s office, sweat-soaked and panting.

remus looks up from his typewriter, brow arched. "barty? how did you even find me?"

"no time for chit-chat, sweetheart. we’ve got to go to st. mungo’s. now."

remus stands so quickly his chair screeches back. "what? why? what happened?"

"field accident. james is hurt. lovely's with him. gonna send a patronus to sirius on the way. let’s go."

remus is pale but determined, grabbing his coat as they both disapparate on the spot. barty takes his wand out to send his patronus—a sleek, twisting silver serpent—it zips through the air toward sirius, muttering, 'come to st. mungo's, black. james is hurt. not much more to say...'

barty’s breath is ragged as they run through the muggle street, dodging a bus that screeches past too close. he snarls under his breath, ‘bloody muggles’ before apparating with remus, the weight of panic clinging to both of them.

at st. mungo’s, you’re pacing frantically outside the treatment room when remus and barty arrive.

"he’s fine," you blurt, eyes wide, "he’s okay, but—"

the door bangs open and sirius storms in, dripping with rain, his expression frantic. he pushes past a healer trying to block his path. “MOVE!” he barks, his voice ragged and unsteady, wild-eyed as if he’s ready to tear through the entire hospital to get to james. "where is he? what happened? is he—"

"he’s okay! he’s okay!"

sirius crashes into you, clutching you tightly before rushing into the room. in an instant, he is by james’ side. the boy is drowsy, half-awake, but his grin cracks wide when he sees him.

"hey, pads."

sirius drops to his knees beside the bed, brushing james’s hair out of his face with shaking hands. "what happened? why weren’t you careful? you’re supposed to be careful!"

"’m always careful, love."

"you’re not!"

remus squeezes james’s calf, his head bowed briefly like he’s silently giving thanks. "you scared the shit out of us."

"’m sorry, moony. ‘m okay, though."

you sit on the edge of the bed, taking james’s hand in both of yours. "you didn’t even see it, did you? the way we handled it. barty was brilliant."

"you both are." sirius murmurs, still brushing his fingers through james’s curls.

"i didn’t even get to see her be badass," james pouts, causing you to laugh softly. 

"she’s always badass." remus says, his voice thick.

"he didn't even get knocked out by the bloody thing," you tease, poking his side. "he tripped over a rock!"

"smooth like butter, ay, potter?" barty smirks from a chair across the room.

moments later, two older people arrive. they both have gorgeous white hair, and the kindest eyes you think you've ever seen. the man is tall, towering really, with a warm face and sharp honey-colored eyes that crinkle when he smiles. the woman beside him is so tiny you think she might fold under the weight of her own coat, her brilliant green eyes sparkling, her stark white hair twisted into an elegant clip.

“mum, dad!” james perks up immediately, his voice scratchy but bright.

“oh, james,” his mother rushes forward, immediately cupping his face like she needs to check every inch of him. “how do you always find your way into these messes?”

“because he’s a potter,” his father says, his voice thick with fond exasperation, stepping in behind her. “it’s what we do. get hurt, cause a bit of chaos, somehow charm our way out of the paperwork.”

“you’re incorrigible,” she huffs, pressing a flurry of kisses to james’s cheeks, one after the other, making him scrunch his nose and groan. 

“mum, i’m recovering, let me recover in peace!”

“you’ll recover once i know you’ve still got all your fingers.” she grabs his hand, counting his fingers out loud. “one, two, three—don’t you dare pull away from me, james fleamont potter.”

you hover awkwardly to the side, unsure if now is the time to introduce yourself, but his father's attention has already landed on you. “i'm fleamont, and this is euphemia. you must be the girl,” he says, stepping closer, his smile kind but his brow raised in something just shy of teasing. “who saved my boy.”

“she’s the one who does all the saving around here.” sirius mutters, still carding his fingers through james’s hair.

“it wasn’t just me,” you mumble, your cheeks warm. “it was me and barty—”

“junior!” fleamont exclaims, his grin widening as he moves to shake barty’s hand. “heard a great deal about you from your father. you’re quite the quick-witted fellow.”

your brows furrow. barty's dad has been speaking kindly about him? what universe are we in?

barty, who has never been this charming before in his life, stands, perfectly poised, and says, “from my father? you flatter me, sir. james is a dear friend. i’d hardly let him face an erumpant alone.”

remus raises his brows, eyes flicking between you and barty. 'what the fuck?' he mouths to you, causing you to giggle. 

“see?” fleamont beams, giving euphemia a knowing look. “i told you he’d attract good people.”

“but he still gets himself nearly blown up!” euphemia mutters, but the soft squeeze she gives your elbow tells you she’s not really upset.

“how did you know we’d be here so quickly?” you ask, genuinely curious.

“when your son gets sent to the hospital, your floo fireplace doesn’t exactly stay quiet,” fleamont says, resting a hand on james’s foot. “it’s like a bloody gossip chain, that fireplace! ever since we got it installed!”

“i’m just glad you’re alright,” euphemia sighs, her thumb brushing absently over james’s wrist. “and i’m glad you’ve got people who love you so fiercely.”

james’s gaze finds yours instantly, warm and soft, and he tugs your hand closer to his heart. “yeah. me too.”

barty’s eyes glimmer with something sharp, and he leans toward remus, voice low. “you didn’t tell me james’s mum was so...witty.”

“i didn’t think you’d be this into it,” remus mutters back, crossing his arms but fighting a smile.

“i love her,” barty says, awestruck. “i’m going to start writing her letters.”

"so," fleamont says, turning his attention to you once again. "you’re the magizoologist?"

"yes, sir," you say sweetly. "barty and i both are."

"tough work, that is," he admire, his eyes gleaming just like james' do. his familiarity makes it even easier to like him. "i'm impressed!"

the potters settle in, the room filling with gentle conversation and soft reassurances. fleamont tells stories that make euphemia swat at him playfully, and sirius visibly relaxes as he listens, and it's clear he's missed the little family they invited him into all those years ago. you can’t stop glancing at james, still pale but smiling, still holding your hand like he needs to feel you there.

when the healers finally give you the okay to bring him home, james practically jumps out of the hospital bed. the journey back to the cottage is slow and careful, remus and sirius flanking either side of james like they’ll catch him if he so much as stumbles. you couldn't apparate with him, as it could worsen his concussion. you keep your hand on his back, steady and warm, guiding him through the floo, through the door, through everything. and, secretly, you had already bothered regulus for some sleeping and pain potions. 

home feels like a balm. it smells like cinnamon and a leftover storm, like your soaps and sirius’s cologne and remus’s tea. the cottage hums around you, familiar and soft. 'welcome home, jamie!' you can hear it say. the fireplace crackles low, and the evening rain patters gently against the windowpanes, as if the sky itself has settled.

james leans into you, boneless and exhausted, as you tuck him carefully into his bed. you smooth the blankets over his chest, making sure they’re just right, tucking the edges in with deliberate care.

“you’re lucky i love you,” you murmur, brushing his curls off his forehead.

“so lucky,” he breathes, eyelids fluttering. “s’why you should stay right here.”

“i’m not going anywhere.”

remus and sirius hover, settling in around the bed. sirius perches at james’s side, still absentmindedly combing his fingers through his hair, while remus sits next to you, rubbing your back. the three of you fuss over him—adjusting pillows, offering water, brushing your fingers over his cheek like you can’t quite believe he’s safe.

it’s peaceful. it’s safe. it’s everything you could want.

until you hear it.

three sharp taps against the windowpane.

your stomach twists before you even look. you already know.

a sleek, black owl waits just beyond the glass, its feathers slick with rain, its yellow eyes fixed on you. perched perfectly, patient. even the bloody owl acts like a pompous prick.

you open the window with a slow, reluctant flick of your wand. the owl swoops in, landing gracefully on the bedside table, and drops a single letter into your lap.

the wax seal is unmistakable. your family’s crest pressed deep into the purple wax.

your mother.

it’s like ice settles in your stomach. your pulse, still steady from the comfort of home, begins to spike again.

"oh, great," you mutter, fingers tightening around the edges of the letter. the warmth of the room, the softness of the bed, all of it feels a little more distant now.

remus catches the look on your face instantly. “what’s wrong, wheeze?”

“it’s nothing,” you lie, slipping the letter under your leg. “just family stuff.”

"family stuff?" sirius asks, his velvet voice dripping with worry. he knows what family stuff means for a family like yours...for a family like his.

james cracks an eye open, even through his exhaustion. “you sure?”

“yeah,” you say softly, kissing his temple. “we’ll deal with it later.”

cliffhanger!

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taglist: @daydreamandforget

(maybe i lied about the angst but i promiiiise its for the plot guys)

[yandere-daydreams]

i literally love how asks always end up vaguely circling around “what if scara was crying in the corner for some reason” topic.

like a bit over a year ago it was ‘dottore gives scara a proportional dong that turned out to be 1.5 inches long’, and then he was a sex doll, and then a cat dealing with dog!childe, and now he’s a sex doll again with the iq of a roomba. i adore this progression so much <33

i can't help it that he's such a naturally pathetic man. hoyo has done everything possible in every on-screen appearance he's given to have him do something cool, immediately undercut it with someone going 'damn that guy's a fucking loser', then having him get his ass absolutely wrecked by whoever's available. sometimes he even kicks his own ass. it is my humble honor to make sure i portray him both accurately to canon and faithfully to my own heart's desires, and therefore he will be crying in your closet because he's jealous that you got a new refrigerator until further notice.

[p4nishers]

sam vimes is actually the character ever. when we meet him he's absolutely fucking WASTED in a gutter bc he's grieving a subordinate and a friend. he gets his shit together bc he's an adrenaline junkie. he told the patriarch of ankh morpork to shut up TWICE in like, five minutes (and vetinari let him). he annoyes rich people constantly and consistently. he has arrested two armies (INCLUDING his own city's). he survived being chased by werewolves. he's "vetinari's terrier". he recognizes ankh morpork streets by the feel of different COBBLES under his too thin boots. he's sober but keeps a half empty bottle in his drawer to keep himself in check. assassins have tried and FAILED to assassinate him countless times. he can make armor look rumpled. he HATES kings and gods and journalists and kings and stupid rich ppl. when he's angry he punches the wall outside of vetinari's office and vetinari LETS HIM. he's malewife. he's so so great.

[com-i-cal]

i watched kpop demon hunters

i also wrote some thoughts under the cut about the movie (slight spoiler warninggg)

starting off with general thoughts: it's a great movie. i love the environments, the characters, the soundtrack, and the character designs. a lot of love was put in this movie and i think it really shows!! it's just really fun and has a pretty interesting plot, too.

i really love both how both kpop groups, huntr/x and the saja boys, can be badass and cool looking to goofy and fun. the expressions really sell it, too; again, you can tell the people working on this were having so much fun.

as for a few criticisms, i feel like the movie's way of giving exposition could be better. a lot of things were kind of glossed over (rumi's parents, what happened after rumi confronted celine, etc.) and it could have taken its time with the pacing. on the other hand, these things leave room for a sequel (which would def be exciting)

for rumi and jinu's romance subplot, i enjoyed it! it's not often you see enemies/rivals to lovers in mainstream media, and i really enjoyed their dynamic and banter. i wished they kinda stretched that out a little more, but i am kinda a sucker for slow burn and yearning :p

i unfortunately couldn't take jinu's sacrifice/death seriously since it reminds me of that one trend where the person catches the ball before it hits the camera and says, "you all right ladies? 😏" but that's just me. the dialogue was kinda cliche too, but i understand how people are sentimental about it.

it's also just a pet peeve of mine where a character dies and all the other characters are so quick to move on like it was nothing, which is what it kinda felt like at the end of the movie. like yeah, rumi was visibly sad when jinu died in front of her, but it was just for that one moment. this is my own personal opinion of course; it's a great movie nonetheless.

now a list of random details from the movie i like:

romance's hair being the shape of a heart

the demon flight attendant stumbling a little in her heels as she's walking to gwi-ma

the demon boy band not posing once but TWICE to convince gwi-ma

all the dance choreography and camera shots (especially in your idol)

jinu's little giggle as he's running in the bathhouse

rumi and jinu's whole kdrama-style meet cute (and rumi's face as she's falling)

baby saja piggy back riding one of the other saja boys

huntr/x's evil little sneaking backstage while the saja boys are on the variety show

rumi going straight into the takedown choreography during the idol awards even when she didn't know what was happening

jinu cringing at himself after saying bye to rumi

the honmoon reacting to rumi when she yells

derpy's (the blue tiger) frog blink and "no thoughts, head empty" eyes

jinu's "PLAY GAMES WITH USSS"

the way the announcer for the idol awards says "the saja boys!"

huntr/x without any makeup

bobby referring to huntr/x as "my girls"

[dianux-27]

Some recent Zoro drawings💚

[cry-ptidd]

Me and my white-haired gothic heroine final girl meow meow du jour king Jonathan Harker

[morhido]

New scottish twink just dropped

[artuurle]

"I'm picking at my sweater Aware that some day I will die Just praying and hoping That I can leave something behind"

Alt without most the shading under the cut

this guy sucks lets kill him with hammers

[lc710v]

ridicule the amazingly tiny alien

[angelcake10023]

“You ever just wanna…” Part 2

Bonus:

He’s fine I promise

[icras]

He has consumed me i cannot stop thinking about Him

[phonification]

something something about worth

[mm-slashing-boy]

Gift for @ajoure because I love his human!Harley Sawyer design. I wanna put him in my mouth and run away with him like some dogs will do when they get caught with something they're not supposed to have and they get chased by their owner (affectionate).

[munster0us]

There’s a scourge in the guise of sanctity, a perpetrator with a quill