#i am 33 years old and i still fight it! every day! and many days i lose!

[popponn]

Hihi, im the same anon that loves ur page!!

the froggys are seriously silly :)

Anyways, can i request some hcs abt bllk boys with a reader who's going thru a depressive episode? im just goin thru stuff rn, if u can't its fine.

So, hows ur day been?

I hope you're well

have a great day! <33

byebye💖

notes: anonnie;;; i hope you are feeling better when you finally read this;;; this took so long, im sorry. i have been busy and there are lot of things going on, but i am fine thank you for asking :> and hey, a depressive episode could be tough. but you got this! okay? try to take it slow and step by step, drink water, eat food, and move around a bit. a light walk or a stretch is okay. like how the clouds always change, things will change. i hope reading this could give you a little happiness, especially when you need it.

isagi

if you are looking for someone who will listen and give practical advice without dismissing your feelings or concerns, honestly he is the one. especially as a boyfriend, you can trust him to be the one who will sit beside you on the sofa while wrapping you in the blanket. will ask you what you want to eat and the moment you decide to fight the cold hard life back, don’t worry, your isagi yoichi will be your #1 supporter! especially if you guys have spent more time in the relationship, he really is good at balancing giving comfort while still giving you trust to walk on your own. though he sometimes couldn’t 100% understand your point of view, but the sincerity in his effort to be always there for you is no joke. he promised every part of him he could give to you and he means every word of it.

bachira

who hurt his baby—he will fight it. somehow. he has this odd sixth sense when it comes to you. just with a glance, he will immediately get how down you feel and what you need. a joke and a cheer up along with many kisses? coming right up. a listener who will hug you like a koala? do you want to do that while cuddling in the bed or in public in front of his friends because he won’t hesitate honestly. just say what you want—if he must eat a cake messily like 5 year old to make you laugh then so be it. will get you out for recreation the moment he could and if he couldn’t that means it’s time for his creativity to shine (and boy does it always shine). but if the one that makes you feel down is someone, bachira is not one for violence but he could you know. if you want. (please stop him.)

rin

if you don’t cry, at best he will be an awkward listener—but a good listener nonetheless. if you cry, though, honestly he will panic. this guy is already not good with his own emotions, so you need to be clear about what you want with him. he is not the best with words though, and advice he offers is usually either “let me just fix this for you” or a straight up detached, objective one that is better offered to someone with a cool head and controlled emotion. therefore, more often than not, he opts to just listen and hold your hand. he will try to help, though, and if he can’t—at the very least you will get a really menacing guard dog who won’t let anyone mess with you while you are trying to get up. (also, go tell him to buy something. his credit card is ready and feeling like he is doing something for you is good for the both of you.)

sae

itoshi gene is harsh and he is somehow worse than his brother in this scenario. he is a naturally critical person towards anything. if you are ready to get your fault pointed out and think up a “what can i do to make this better or avoid this from happening again” go to him, but if you are looking for someone who will listen or give validation, as much as you love him, don’t. him and a terrible headspace is not a good combination. however, a direct “can you hug me?” or a “can you do something for me?” is not completely out of the question—he, after all, still cares about you. high chance he won’t ask, especially if you said you don’t want to say anything, but in this situation the softer part of him who has a hard time saying no to you truly comes out. a movie night, even if it involves the goddamned fries, would happen. he is smart enough to know when to spoil you, especially since he knows your habits and tendencies by heart.

kunigami

the sort of person who sees a hint of gloom on your face and immediately cradles it with a tenderness that no one would expect from someone with his build. he is a good, caring person by nature, if you are looking for someone to help you, he is the best choice. he can be clumsy sometimes and the words he gives to cheer you up have a high chance of being uttered with a lot of pauses in the middle—but the way he acts will probably be enough to bring a smile to your face again (and he will also smile along with you when this happen because by god you are his happiness). all those aside, high chance he can’t give advice, but he will give you top-notch cheering up—words, actions, cuddles, everything—along with genuine validation. (especially after wild card, he has seen hell. “feeling terrible” is something he understands a lot.)

kaiser

for this one i won’t sugarcoat it: jesus christ. why. is there no one else?

jokes aside, as i love to bully him a bit here, objectively—this really depends on the sort of type of person you are. if you are looking for advice or validation or a listener—not him. but if you are the sort of person who prefers a distraction or the “tough love” sort of motivation that is more scathing and heartless—borderline degrading—he is the one. out of spite, his words are probably enough to spur you into action, forgetting whatever blue feeling you have as it has turned into a red raging anger. however, a little note, believe it or not, this actually comes from a caring place in his heart. kaiser is someone with many, many harsh edges—and this comes more from “i rather see you angry and living than seeing you down without me being able to do anything” root that he rather die than say out loud.

nagi

the best you could get is a passive listener. worse you can get is a passive listener who still plays games. the worst you can get is that one scene where isagi has a legitimate concern and gets his hair pulled by this guy. another one who is better to have as a company in seeking distraction for the time than anything. but, despite how admittedly terrible he is in cheering you up with words, he truly makes it up by action when it finally hits him how down and different you are. it will take a few hours or a few days, but he will get there. afterward, expect many small sweet gestures ranging from cute gifts, your favorite snacks, et cetera. your chatroom with him will too suddenly get noisy with many cute stickers and “u ok? :x” for at least a few weeks. (also he is shameless enough to ask out loud to his teammates about what should he do with you when he realizes how stuck he is. so hey. there is that: possible extra brains if you need a solution.)

reo

common knowledge that he never shies away from using that money of his when he needs to and this is one of those situations where he genuinely considers taking you away for a trip so you can feel better near a sunny beach or a peaceful lake—you pick. if you don’t want that, however, this guy is still the best when it comes to understanding you and will be there until you give him a smile. what else do you expect from someone with a complete set of love languages? do watch out though, he is also someone who could get angry pretty quickly, especially when it involves something or someone he cares about—and this time it’s you. on a brighter note, though, this means if you are looking for someone to shit talk with, he is the one. he is a smart caring boyfriend, so talking with him during this time will do a lot of good to you. a good advice along with good validation.

bonus round:

barou — has this very awkward and unique way of cheering you up by getting you to clean the house along with him (and somehow he is less strict with you this time) and then cooking for you after; somehow always works like a charm. yukimiya — do you know all those shoujo manga perfect handsome famous sporty smart boyfriends? this is it. coming to you live. chigiri — shit-talking session that will soon move on to a pep talk that will give you every bit of confidence and drive you to need. a best friend and a boyfriend in one package. one of the people who truly knows and understands how despairing an overwhelming situation could be. karasu — will he tease you a bit like a meanie to distract you, ironically? yes. but if you need an advisor to brainstorm the best possible solution he is also the one.

#bllk imagines #bllk x reader #bllk #blue lock #blue lock fluff #blue lock x reader #blue lock scenarios #bllk scenarios #blue lock headcanons #bllk headcanons #blue lock imagines #bllk fluff #isagi x reader #nagi x reader #bachira x reader #rin x reader #sae x reader #kaiser x reader #kunigami x reader #reo x reader #i was feeling pretty blue for a while too anon;;; so yeah this took a bit too write because i dont want this to be a downer answer too haha #all in all :> im a froggie again and im glad u like them hehe #...this reads more as them cheering you up and how good they are at it. i hope it's okay

[intersexfairy]

Last week, two young Black men were murdered. 33 year old Ricky Cobb II was shot to death by Minnesota State troppers. 28 year old O'Shae Sibley, a Gay dancer, was stabbed to death while playing Beyoncé's music and vougeing with his friends.

The cops responsible for Ricky Cobb's death are Ryan Londregan (the shooter), Brett Seide, and Garrett Erickson. His relatives (and many others) are fighting to have these troopers held accountable. A currently unnamed 17-year old turned himself in for stabbing O'Shae Sibley, although he was accompanied by others.

I don't know if Ricky Cobb's family has a crowdfund set up or not (if so, someone please add on), but O'Shae Sibley's family does. You can find the GFM here.

O'shae not only was the glue to this family, he was a great dancer and performer for the majority of his life. His spirit lit up every room he stepped in. His smile was contagious! To know him, was to live him. He did not deserve this. Everyone loved his spirit ❤️

-- from the GoFundMe started by O'Shae Sibley's father, Jake Kelly.

From Ricky Cobb's relatives:

"I'm exhausted. My heart is heavy every day for the last three days. Waking up, I have migraines. And I'm hurt. I would like those officers to man up. I'm here to be a voice and stand strong like a rock that I am for my son and speak out." -- Mother, Nyra Fields Miller

"My brother was a good man. He was a provider for all of us. He protected all of us." -- Sibling, Octavia Ruffin

These men should still be alive. Their families, friends, and community should not be going through this loss and grief. If there's one thing any of us (nonblack people) can do, it's not let them go through this unheard and unseen.

Rest in power Ricky Cobb II. Rest in power O'Shae Sibley. Abolish the police.

#ifairy #police bruality #antiblackness #antiblack violence #antiblack racism #violent antiblackness #queerphobia #homophobia #hate crime #mutual aid #crowdfunding #current events #black lives matter #o'shae sibley #say his name #blm #abolish the police #acab #murder #death #all cops are bastards #anti blackness #violence #police violence #police #cops #racism #ricky cobb #ricky cobb ii

[the-stove-is-divorced]

Hello, Sailing Ships!! <33

Do you think you'll write a fic about Invincible some day? And if yes, what are some things you could already imagine writing about? I LOVE your rambles btw!!! I don't know why but it's incredibly interesting to me every time somebody writes about their opinions. Oh, and when they go off on tangents. Tangents, my beloved!!

HI!!! Teehee I'm loving this nickname ♡♡♡ And YEAH! I already have actually, I just have never mentioned them on here I think,,, or updated them in a hot min actually (ノ_<、). AND I WILL PROMISE. (」＞＜)」

The first one is my body's in backwards !! I didn't see any time travel fics in the fandom yet so I had to write one! The fic follows the bruised and bloody Mark, nearly beaten him to death in s1, somehow traveling back to the very first episode! He is constantly stressed, incredibly traumatized, and trying his very best. I love this fic a lot, the descriptions in the first chapter are stuff I'm still proud of. Literally everyone around him is so incredibly concerned, heh, I love writing it. If chapter 5 could give me a break and be easy to write that'd be great.

Then, there's repine and retrain !! It follows that evil! Mark we saw, who got trapped by that universe's GDA! With the world still wrecked by monsters and villains, Cecilia basically drags Mark kicking and screaming into obeying her, so he go fight stuff without risking him trying alien colonization part 2. Heavy angst, and definitely hurt no comfort. This should actually update soon! :DD kudos to whoever commented recently, I forgot this existed.

If I were to write another, though, I'd write a symbiote!Mark fic, because I saw fanart for the absolutely epic idea, and actually wrote a draft I never managed to finish. With some delightful s2 part B scenes to consider, I'd have to overhaul a decent chunk to make it work, if I ever finish it one day. Who knows? ┐(￣ヮ￣)┌

That, or a time travel fic with a focus on way more comedic element than the unyielding heavy, heavy angst of my current one. Like, the image of like four year old Mark Grayson staring daggers at his father and shoveling "Empathy for Dummies" at him makes me cackle.

Or, a time loop fic with a similar comedy-ish angle, but still a bit angsty. So there's Mark in s1 conveniently appearing whenever Nolan tries to kill off the Guardians of the Globe. And also shoving "Empathy for Dummies" at him. Subtly dragging your alien father into processing the weight of his actions and fighting against the colonizing regime. Mark's stronger, faster, and laser focused on dragging his Dad into be better, but he keeps mentioning stuff that hasn't happened yet, which confuses people around him, and drives Cecil up the fucking wall. He's a contradiction of incredible efficiency, yet stuck in his head a lot, fucks up the date constantly, skips school, legit has troubling remembering what happened when and what hasn't happened yet. He'll mention something to you and looked surprised when you remember it (since he's been through so many loops.) Basically Outsider POV of a time loop, when the person's been through it like 28392th times already.

Gosh, now I wanna write this so bad. (///￣ ￣///) I'm so glad you like tangents,, as you can see I am quite the yapper if given the chance. (//▽//)

#asks #i think i WILL finish repine and retrain AND THEN comedy-ish time loop where mark confuses everyone constantly #nolan: why do i feel like someone's watching me? #time loop!mark breathing down his neck: ... #BUT YEAH #i realize i never rlly talk about my invincible stuff?? like at all? which is a shame !!! i need to start posting chapter updates istg #TYSM FOR THE ASK I LOVE YAPPIN' #invincible #my fics

[evelhak]

Well, you asked for it ;)

2, 16, 22, 33, 39, 63, 71

I guess I did. I wish I could return some questions, though. ;)

2. How old are you?

I am sweet 30. And since that's a disappointingly short answer, let me reflect a bit. It's so weird, because before I really became active on tumblr again last year, it never would have even occurred to me that someone would question my presence in a fandom because I'm too old?? (Especially because 30 is still quite young as a human being, and culturally even younger than it was some time ago...) Maybe I just wasn't in the right places, but I honestly never saw it happen before, and all of a sudden I was witnessing and getting really unfair hate because... my brain is fully developed, and I've been around the sun more times than a teenager? Well, the way I see it, and this might not be what some KnB fandom teens want to hear, the characters are now the same age as me, or a year older, depending on how you look at it. Yes, they aged with me in my brain, and that's just as valid a take as pretending fictional characters are forever the age they are in canon. And by the way, you don't lose the right to reflect on your past as you get older, or to vibe with characters who are the age you were in that past and going through similar struggles. This should not be a threat to anyone, this should be a comforting thought. I know I'm preaching to the choir, writing this here, but it's almost every day that I see something that makes it relevant to keep saying these things.

16. Favourite movie?

This is always such a hard question. I have several, but since I have to pick one, let's go with The Railway Man this time. It's different to my other favourites because I've only seen it once, and I can't bring myself to watch it again, because the torture scenes are too much for me to handle. But I think about it constantly. It's based on the true story of a man who initially plans to hunt down his torturer from WWII, but is able to forgive him instead, and hear and understand his side of the war experiences, and his guilt. Not only do they accept each other's apologies, the two become life-long friends. This is by far the most cathartic movie I have ever seen in my life. I cried in my room for an hour after watching it. It simultaneously contains the worst and the best humanity is capable of, and that's what makes it so special, and I'm tearing up now just writing this. Especially because it's based on a true story, this movie is such a lighthouse to me, because it's proof that love and forgiveness and healing beyond comprehension do exist, and I'm not a fool to believe in it, no matter the circumstances.

22. Have you ever got in trouble with the law?

No, I don't think so, by any stretch of imagination. The closest would be me keeping my drunk friends from getting in trouble, by preventing them from picking a fight with a security guard.

33. What do you typically have for breakfast?

A smoothie, an avocado toast, and (decaf) coffee (because caffeine gives me panic attacks). Yes, I am such a basic millennial.

39. Do you have any scars?

Yes, many, but most of them are very small. I don't have any interesting stories about them. Ran into something, got hit by something, surgery. Normal things.

63. Biggest Fear?

Losing everyone I love, or a slow and painful death. I don't want to engage my imagination there, but if you imagine the most painful thing that could happen to a human in general, emotionally and physically, for the love of god, don't tell me what it is, but that's probably my worst fear.

71. What makes you nervous?

Being observed closely while I'm doing something for the purpose of evaluation. Having to get something right on the first try. Performing anything physical for the first time. Those job interviews where you have to pretend your interviewers are your students, audience, or clients. Having to advocate for my personal needs, when they are in conflict with the interest of the other person and especially a group. Anything where I have to make sure I'm seen and heard.

Thanks, this was both fun and emotional to reflect on. ♥︎

#ask game

[ensnapemysenses]

The Wolf, The Bat, and The Girl

Part one: Wolfsbane

Pairing: Snupin, Severus Snape x Remus Lupin

Warnings: Slight angst to begin with but becomes fluffy by the end, mentions of Severus's late wife, little bit of self-doubting from Severus, mentions of how Severus was bullied while in school

Word Count: 2.396

A/N: This takes place after the Battle of Hogwarts. Snape and Remus lived, and Remus never got married to Tonks (they went on a few dates and that is all). Snape was 33 when he secretly got married and no one ever knew he was married or met his wife. He was 35 when Hazel was born. His wife passed from an illness shortly after the battle of Hogwarts when he was 39 and he’s been caring for Hazel on his own since. She grew up at Hogwarts being cared for by Minerva (who she refers to as her grandmother) and Sev. Snape and Remus are currently 46 years old and Severus returned to teach at Hogwarts after Voldemort’s defeat. Remus only returned this year as he was employed elsewhere helping with studies on werewolves and fighting for them to get more rights. Minerva became headmaster because Severus refused to take up the position again preferring to return to a somewhat normal life. This takes place around 2006ish if you are worried about dates lol (I think I did the math correctly anyways, dates confuse me whoops).

Anyway, I’m def going to do a collection of fics focusing on this version of Snupin with Hazel Snape. I am really in love with this idea and yes I'm already working on part two! ;)

Masterlists

“Daddy!” Eleven-year-old Hazel Snape,  giggles as she runs into his office. She hunches over her hands on her knees as she pants from the run she just embarked on from the defense against the dark arts classroom to the dungeons.  After catching her breath she bolts upright and jumps into her dad’s lap, giggly with excitement. 

“How was your first day of classes, honey?” Severus asks her, hugging her tightly in his arms before releasing her. 

“Ah-mazing!” She twirls around and does a little happy dance causing Snape to smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. 

“What class did you enjoy the most?”

“Defense against the dark arts,” Hazel responds immediately, knowing she doesn’t need to give it a second thought since the class has already captivated her interest. “I really like Professor Lupin, he makes the class so fun!” she giggles.

Not understanding what Hazel sees in Lupin, Snape rolls his eyes at the mention of his name.

He’s never been particularly fond of the guy though he was in the same year as him at school. It’s mostly due to Lupin's association with the group of boys that bullied him for years which leaves a bad taste in his mouth at the mention of his name. He has to admit that Lupin has changed a bit over the years. Every now and then he will still throw an insult or two Severus’s way, to which Severus always returns the favor, but he’s mostly amicable. 

“Mhmm,” he says thoughtfully, playing off his indifference to Remus. “You have potions with me tomorrow, Hay.”

“Ugh,” she sighs. “I know, dad! It’s going to be so weird having you as my professor.”

“It’s going to be just as weird having my knucklehead of a daughter as my student,” he jokes, ruffling her hair with his hand, and making her giggle. He presses a kiss to her head just as he hears a knock on his office door. “I guess you better be off, daddy’s got work to do,” he sighs, wrapping her in a hug.

“See you at dinner!” Hazel exclaims, waving bye to her dad as she exits. 

“Cute kid, by the way. She seems exceptionally smart, just like her father,” a silky voice says from the doorway.  

“Remus,” Snape says coldly. 

“Severus,” Lupin replies with a nod. “May I come in?”

“I suppose so,” Snape drawls. 

His hands clasped behind his back, Remus enters and takes a lap around the room, examining the many jars lining the shelves. “What great decor you have,” he acknowledges. 

“Did you come here to peruse my office and comment on what I keep in it or do you have something useful to say? Perhaps you came here just to waste my time, you seem to be awfully good at that,” Snape scoffs. His fists begin turning a ghostly shade of white and his blue veins become more visible with each passing second. Severus hates having his time wasted; every second is precious to him. 

“I came here to ask for a favor.”

“And, just what is it? I haven’t got all day!” Snape snarls. 

“I’d like you to teach me how to brew Wolfsbane.”

Snape chuckles. “You? Brewing Wolfsbane? That’s hysterical! It’s a highly complicated potion that only the best can perfect!”

“And that’s why I want you to teach me. It’s a win-win, Severus. You won’t have to waste your time brewing such a complicated potion every month, and I’ll have the knowledge to keep others safe from me during the full moon.”

Severus scrunches his nose and runs a hand through his hair. He has to admit, Remus does have a point. If he can teach the useless idiot how to brew his own Wolfsbane, he will gain more free time to focus on his own experimental potions. But, can he trust Remus to brew it correctly? If he doesn’t, he could put many lives in danger. Should he take that risk? 

“Fine,” he huffs, “I think we have a deal.”

“I figured as such.” Remus’s mouth twitches up at the corners in a small knowing smirk; he’s got Severus right where he wants him. “I know you will have to begin brewing next month's potion Friday evening, am I correct?”

“Yes,” he drawls. 

“I’ll see you here Friday evening. How’s eight o’clock sound?”

“I suppose that will work.”

“Good evening, Severus.” Turning on his toes, Remus’s eyes find Severus and linger there for one moment before he slams the door shut behind him with a thud. 

“That idiot,” Severus mumbles under his breath, a small smile creeping up the corners of his lips. A puff of air escapes his lips as he takes notice of his smile and his lips immediately fall back into a resting position. Why he is smiling over such a daft imbecile when he has work to be done he doesn’t quite understand.

~~~

As Severus is setting up the supplies for the potion on Friday evening, the creaking of his office door opening makes him pause for a moment. “Where are your manners, Remus? Shouldn’t you knock before entering someone else’s space?” he sneers, turning around to face Remus.

Remus simply shrugs and ignores Severus’s questions, shutting the door behind him. “Everything ready?” he asks, his chin resting on his fingers as he observes the setup.

“It is,” Severus scoffs. Though he’s had a few days to prepare himself he is not looking forward to what is probably going to ensue tonight. He’s expecting Remus to be sarcastic and snippy with him and ask stupid questions just to set him off and annoy him.

“Shall we begin or shall I proceed to mix everything together and hope for the best?” Remus huffs, raising an eyebrow at Snape.

Snape sighs and begins his lecture on Wolfsbane potion. In excruciating detail, he explains everything from the theory to each step in the process. A quill and parchment were pulled out by Remus in anticipation of taking notes, and he even asked questions when he became confused. Severus was caught off guard by Lupin's gesture and couldn't help but chuckle at the realization. It was a bit odd to see his puzzled expression as Severus finished up his lesson and they began the first steps of brewing the potion.

Throughout the evening, the two sparred various verbal blows, but both seemed to enjoy the banter, stopping to let out a small chuckle or hide a growing smile with a scowl.

“No! Don’t cut it like that! Do it like this, Remus. It’s much more effective.” “I’ll show you how effective I can be with a knife if you don’t pipe down!”

“I would appreciate it if you would back up a bit, Severus! I don’t appreciate your hot breath on my neck!”

“I’m simply making sure you don’t blow up the cauldron in my office! I do not want to have to clean up such a mess!”

Thankfully, the night goes by without incident.

“Okay, that does it for tonight,” Severus announces, remarking on the state of the potion. “Due to the nature of this potion, we are going to have to meet every evening until it is completed.”

Remus rolls his eyes. “That means I’m stuck seeing you for a while, huh?” he grumbles.

Snape glares at Lupin. “Is my presence truly that horrifying to be around?” he snaps, as he begins tidying up his desk from the night.

“Truly horrifying, indeed,” Remus agrees, with a low growl but he automatically joins Severus in cleaning up. “See you tomorrow,” he smirks, giving Severus a little wink before exiting. 

Stunned by Remus’s remarks Severus stands still for a few moments, blinking hard as he tries to make sense of what just happened. His heart pounds against his chest and he swipes his tongue across his lips deep in thought. Shrugging off the encounter he goes about his nightly routine but he can’t help it when a small smile creeps up on him when he returns to his chamber for the night.

~~~

Due to the Wolfsbane being such a precarious potion to brew, Remus and Severus meet every day after Friday evening for Severus to show Remus the next step in preparing the elixir. Remus always comes prepared, quill and parchment in hand as he plays the role of an observant student. Severus finds he much enjoys his puzzled looks and questions as it gives him a chance to speak about one of his passions. 

Upon finding out about these lessons between Severus and Remus, Hazel has been begging her father to let her watch the two work on the potion together. Of course, Severus lets her attend some of the meetings as long as they won’t keep her out of bed after curfew. Hazel’s infatuation with the defense against the dark arts professor seems to be growing more with every class she attends, and much to Severus’s dismay, he finds himself slowly becoming enthralled with Remus as well. 

The way his graying hair tumbles into his face as he peers into the cauldron with a dazed look, scratching his head for a moment before a rough hand sweeps the hair out of his face never fails to make Severus stop breathing for just a moment. His heart aches and flutters a bit faster in his chest when he observes how gentle and caring Remus is with his daughter, treating her as if she were his own. He’s kind and he listens to her, answering her questions about their defense against the dark arts lessons and he looks to Severus for help with any questions about the potion they are working on. Remus never fails to look her in the eyes, stoop down to her height to make her feel more included, and never raises his voice at her. Soon, butterflies begin to swarm in Severus’s stomach when those amber eyes with green in their depths find his own black orbs and linger there for just a moment too long. He does his best not to stare, but he often fails. 

Soon the staring evolves into delicate touches while passing potion ingredients and feather-like touches on the arch of their backs as one of the men leans over the other to access the state of the potion. Their hands often pause and stop their movements when they collide, though it is never more than a few extra seconds every touch sparks a current through Severus that threatens to make him blush. If he weren’t such a skilled occlumens, he is sure he would have melted into a puddle on the floor by now due to the rising tension between the two. 

This evening is no different; the two men are adding the final touches to the potion and because Hazel would not stop begging her dad to watch them complete the potion she is also present. With shaking hands Remus takes the last ingredient from Severus, their fingertips brushing against each other, and he adds it to the cauldron. 

“My my Remus, it looks like you are not such an imbecile after all,” Snape says, letting out a low chuckle. “You can take a breath. Look.”

Remus lets out the breath he didn’t know he was holding and peers into the cauldron, sure enough, it is emitting the characteristic blue smoke indicating that it was brewed to perfection. “I guess I just had a very good teacher. This is all because of you, Sev.” Remus smiles and places a hand on Severus’s shoulder and gives it a squeeze. 

Sev? Severus can’t help but blush, the nickname caught him off guard. “At this rate, you will be brewing the potion alone in no time,” he replies.

“I don’t know if I want to brew it alone, I’ve enjoyed spending time with you - and Hazel.” Remus leans down and ruffles the girl's hair, peering into her eyes and giving her a reassuring nod. “Hazel, you’ve been a great source of encouragement every time you’ve accompanied me and your father during these lessons,” he smiles.

“I’ve really learned a lot watching you two brew such a complicated potion!” Hazel exclaims, her eyes darting to her dad as if asking permission. At the nod of his head, she launches herself into Remus’s arms, giggling and smiling from ear to ear. 

Acting upon instinct, Remus scoops the girl up and gives her a little spin before gently setting her back down on the ground. “You’re my little good luck charm, eh Hazel,” Remus grins, elbowing Severus, knocking him off balance and causing him to stumble a bit.

“Yeah!” Hazel happily agrees.

“Alright, you two! Enough playing around! Hazel, it’s time for you to head to your dorm.”

“Ugh, fine. Goodnight daddy! I love you!” Hazel says, giving her dad a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “See you later, Professor Lupin!”

“She is adorable,” Lupin mummers once she’s left the room. 

Severus nods, his heart swelling with pride. “She is something,” he chuckles. “She’s so much like her mother,” he adds in a low voice as an afterthought.

Remus tenses at the mention of Hazel’s mother, curious to learn more about her but not sure what to say next. “Her mother… is she still in the picture?” he asks, hissing at how inconsiderate that could sound. He never knew Snape had been married, much less that he had a kid before this year when he returned to teach at Hogwarts. It had indeed been quite the surprise and no one had been willing to talk about the situation to fill him in on the details.

Snape shakes his head and begins fiddling with the skin on his thumb. “She passed away when Hazel was four. Her health deteriorated and no healer could figure out what was wrong. Eventually, she stopped fighting and decided to spend the time she had left with us,” he mumbled, wiping a tear away with the back of his hand. “It’s been really tough raising Hay alone. I’ve had Minerva’s help but still, I worry I haven’t been a good influence on her. I know I haven’t always been an admirable person and I’ve made sure to never hide my past from her. I just hope I have raised her well, that she learns from my own shortcomings, and that she doesn’t repeat her father’s mistakes.” Severus looks to the ground and rubs the back of his neck.

“Severus, I haven’t known your daughter long, but I can assure you that she is an exceptional young lady. She’s intelligent, caring, and loyal and I’d argue that she acquired all of those things from you. You are one of the most loyal and intelligent people I’ve ever met and behind that cold exterior, I know you are caring. I’ve seen the way you act around Hazel, you’re not the scary dungeon recluse everyone thinks you are.” Taking a half step closer to Severus, Remus places a hand on his shoulder. “Look at me, Sev,” he mummers.

Slowly Severus lifts his head and his eyes meet Remus’s.

“I haven’t always been the best person either. I’m sorry for how I let all that bullying slide while we were in school. I - I wish I had stood up to my friends. I wish I had - defended you. You didn’t deserve any of it and I hate that I can’t go back and change the past.” Slowly Remus snakes his hand up to Severus’s face and pushes a strand of his onyx hair back behind his ear before hastily shoving both of his hands into his pockets and stepping back, scared of how Severus will react to the bold gesture.

Severus simply nods not knowing what to say. “We both can’t change the past, we must simply live with it,” he finally says, with a shrug. “Hazel seems to have taken a liking to you.”

“It seems I’ve won over both Snape's, huh?” Remus taunts. 

Severus’s cheeks begin burning and he feels his body temperature start to rise. “Who says I like you, Remus? No! I simply put up with you,” he scoffs. 

“Of course,” Remus chuckles. “But I think that if you were just putting up with me I don’t think you’d let me do this.” 

Four steps is all it takes for Remus to close the gap between him and Severus. It takes another moment for him to decide exactly what he is going to do, opening his arms wide and wrapping them around Severus in a tight embrace. Much to his surprise and delight, Severus embraces him as well, running a hand gently up and to the small of his back. The action sends a shiver up Remus’s spine.

The two men hold each other tightly for a few moments before simultaneously breaking apart. Severus’s obsidian eyes gaze into Remus’s amber eyes admiring their beauty, before darting off to the side. Severus has never been very comfortable with eye contact and right now all he wants to do is escape. He can’t believe he let himself be vulnerable with Remus Lupin of all people!

“Well, that does it for tonight. Here.” With a wave of his wand Severus removes the cauldron from the flame, cooling it down to room temperature with a blast of cold air. He places the lid on it and hands it to Remus. “You know the correct dosage I assume?”

“All too well, Severus.”

“Good. Take the first dose tonight. The full moon is just a week away.”

#severus snape x remus lupin #snape x lupin #snupin #snape x lupin fic #snupin fic #severus snape #remus lupin #snape fic #lupin fic #severus snape fic #remus lupin fic #ensnapemysenses

[grumpygreenwitch]

The Fairy and the Prince #1

So alright, this is going to be an experiment for me. I write. I like writing. I am terrible at prompts and I have no idea how writing commissions work. But. The story that starts here is too long for one post. It’s too short for a book. It’s a Novella, I think they’re called. It’s Fantasy. I wrote it because the trope of “fairy/mortal romance always ends in tragedy” irks the crap out of me. It shouldn’t take the radical destruction of a partner’s nature to get your Happily Ever After. It’s going to update every other week, like clockwork even! If I can figure out Queueing in Tumblr. I need that week in between because I’m also writing more about ser Lyrian, and that’s supposed to go in the in-between week once I have more of a buffer. In any case. The tags are #Linden the fairy, #Adam the prince, #Linden and Adam, #The Fairy and the Prince. I don’t know how many parts there are, I end chapters when the chapters end. It’s at a little over 20K words at this point and not quite finished yet. It’s also not edited, so be kind.

Part 1 - Part 2 - Parts 3 & 4 - Part 5 - Part 6, 7 & 8 - Part 9 & 10 - Part 11, 12, 13, 14, 15 & 16 - Part 17, 18, & 19 - Part 20, 21 & 22 - Part 23, 24, 25 & 26 - Part 27, 28, 29 & 30 - Part 31, 32, 33 & 34 - Part 35, 36 & 37 - Part 38, 39, 40 & 41 - Part 42 & 43 - Part 44 & 45 - Part 46 & 47 - Part 48, 49, 50 & 51 - Part, 52, 53 & 54 - Part 55 & 56 - Part 57, 58, 59 & 60 - Part 61, 62, 63, 64 & 65 - Part 66, 67, 68, 69, 70, 71 & 72

Prince Adam met Linden while escaping his geography lessons.

Geography is one of those things everyone should know and no one wants to learn. The Queen Dowager had commanded that it be taught to the mob of prospective heirs to the throne that she'd gathered in the Royal palace, among with many other sciences and arts. Then again, the same august and childless lady had also commanded that they be taught the finer points of fencing, wrestling and knife-fighting, so everyone had a good, if resignedly terrified idea as to how she meant to solve the matter of succession without actually making a choice and angering a niece or nephew. However, these were also the same people who'd agreed to drop off their kids at the palace and under her supervision.

In any case, Adam had no more fondness for his geography studies than any other of the Princes at hand. He was fortunate, or unfortunate, enough that, the youngest of the candidates at nine years, by the time his geography lessons rolled around the teacher, a dour old priest of the Tree-Father, was either already asleep, or nearly there. All he had to do was read quietly, peeking up, until the man started snoring.

Which he'd done.

He'd only meant to slip out onto the balcony and sit on the ornate stone railing. But the day was lovely and still young, and he'd realized that one of the gutters ended not too far from the balcony, the spout carved like a horse's head. He'd leapt lightly onto it and charged into many a battle on his moss-painted steed before a nearby cornice had caught his eye. From there he'd climbed several fashionable false arches, like a great explorer over vast mountain ranges. Then he'd leapt and caught an old arrow-slit by his fingertips, and climbed further up, until he could tip-toe along a gutter made slick by decades of rain-feed moss.

By then he was nearly six stories off the ground.

He stalled after having raced along a lip of brick, mortar and stone barely wider than his fine leather slippers, which he'd already thrown off at some point between mountain-exploring and harpy-fighting (there had been three particularly angry swallows with nests under another balcony). The gutter there ended in a fish-head spout, and there the palace itself turned in a sharp corner, rather than a round tower curve.

Adam glowered at the lack of further road in impotent anger. After a few minutes, however, anger grew boring with no one there to look upon it, and he put his mind to more practical concerns. He was a clever young man, forced by circumstance to become even cleverer, struggling to leave childhood behind just to survive the deadly competition he found himself in. He was a lovely child, a little on the slim side, with his father's curly black hair and his mother's (and grand-aunt's) narrow, firm features, black brows and deep blue eyes, pale skin quickly growing pink because no one could keep him out of the summer sun for long.

A decorative ledge above him caught his eye. It was a mirror of the one he was standing on. On his tiptoes, he couldn't reach it, his fingers just shy of the goal. If he leapt, though...

He glanced over his shoulder. Far below he could just see the tops of the trees, swaying in the afternoon breeze like fretful nannies. Beyond them were the muddy grounds of the expanding Royal Gardens, and beyond that was the dark green smudge of the Hunting Woods. But there was no one to tell him no, and so he leapt.

He caught the ledge, and almost immediately his right hand slipped. The ledge was, he realized belatedly, much larger than he'd expected, and at a slant, meant to shed water off from whatever might lie beyond it. Years of rain had left it as slippery as the gutters.

He tried to find the ledge below his feet, but he was just high enough that his questing toes couldn't reach it. He tried to grip the ledge once again, but couldn't find a place that wouldn't spit out his fingers. His left hand was slipping, and for the first time it occurred to prince Adam that he might have been a mite unwise in his choice of entertainment for the afternoon. Grunting with effort he tried to lift himself up one-handed onto the ledge.

His left hand slipped.

Adam was weightless for a single, fragile moment, the tiny space between his heart beating and his breath catching.

Then he realized there was a small, strong hand gripping his left wrist, and looked up into the face of the most extraordinary creature he would ever meet in his life.

The stranger laughed, a merry and carefree sound, the ringing of cheerful bells. "You're not very good at this, are you?"

They were wearing mismatched clothing, pants too big and tied with twine around the waist, folded many times over at the leg, shirt worn so thin the sun shining at the edge of the roof behind them showed skinny arms and a slender, graceful neck. Their hair was white and fine, tipped in dark gold, a halo around a fine-boned, acorn-brown face. But their eyes...

Their eyes were shattered glass.

Adam blinked, enthralled. They were brown and green, blue and hazel; it was as if someone had taken chapel windows and made them into eyes, glorious and random and full of lights. He fought to grip the ledge with his right hand, and finally found a spot willing to meet him halfway. "It's my first time climbing this high up!" he protested.

The stranger, brown and lithe and mismatched in every way, laughed again, glad and guileless, and helped Adam scrabble onto the ledge.

"What's wrong with your eyes?" the Prince asked.

The stranger jerked back in surprise, blinked pointedly, and then squinted at Adam. "Nothing. What's wrong with yours?" they challenged.

"Nothing," Adam replied, flopping onto the ledge, which was far larger than he'd expected, the slate and stone of it sun-warm. "Other than they're boring, I suppose." He rolled over, trying to catch his breath. The blue sky above him vanished behind that white-haired face, far too close to his. "Gah!"

"What's boring about them?" the stranger demanded. "I think they're lovely. Like a bluebird's feathers." They reached out to try and pry at Adam's eyes, and the prince swatted that hand aside.

"What are you doing? It's rude to touch people without their permission!"

Fine white brows went up. "Should I have asked permission to catch you when you slipped?"

"That's different," Adam sat up, and his new acquaintance, kneeling by him, leaned back on the heels of their bare, muddy feet. "Of course you don't ask someone if you can save their life, you just do it. But when it's not important, you should always ask. It's good manners." The young prince flopped back down again. "Thank you for catching me."

"You're welcome," the stranger seemed to be mulling on Adam's words, and once again that fine-boned, brown face filled his field of view. "I don't think you're boring. I liked how you fought the swallow-harpies."

"Have you been watching me all this time?!" Adam burst up to a sitting position again.

"Yes," his savior admitted blithely. "It was much more exciting than me just climbing to catch the sun."

"Catch the sun?"

"Yes, see?" The stranger reached into a pocket of their oversized pants and pulled out something that gleamed too brightly for Adam to really see, something warm and golden like fat drops of honey held in the cup of that muddy, small hand. "It's not a lot."

"It's more than I could ever get," Adam replied, intrigued. "I didn't even know you could catch the sun like that."

"Well, it is tricky," they admitted, a delicate fluster on the brown and high cheeks revealing faint green freckles as they pocketed the sun drops again.

"What do you even do with it?" Adam asked curiously, examining his feet and finding them incredibly filthy; for some reason this pleased him immensely.

"I bring them into the woods, where the normal sun doesn't reach."

"Oh, that would be so helpful to everything there!" Adam exclaimed, and his companion flushed even deeper, all unnoticed. By the time the young prince turned to face them, they were sitting cross-legged next to the boy. "By the way, I'm prince Adam Lestrelle. But it's fine to just call me Adam." He offered his hand, trying to make the gesture very grand and grown-up.

"Oh, Adam's a good name. Better than Prince, anyways, there's too many Princes here, it'd get confusing really quickly. I think you might be the only Adam."

"I am," he admitted. "I'm also the youngest. And you?"

"Ugh." The stranger took Adam's hand; their grip was strong, dry, warm, like wood softly polished by age and use, and warmed by summer daylight. "Me too. I hate it. There's nothing good about being the youngest." They licked their lips in thought, and then nodded, seeming to have come to a decision. "You can call me Linden."

"Like the tree?"

"Yes."

Adam considered. "It suits you." He leaned closer a bit and sniffed, making Linden look at him curiously. "You smell like them, too."

Linden shoved him. "Of course I do!" They sprung up to their feet, and offered a hand. "Come on, then. Palace won't climb itself!"

There was a challenging, welcoming grin on Linden's face, as bright as the white of their hair. Adam grinned back, took their hand, and let them help him to his feet.

#the fairy and the prince #linden the fairy #adam the prince #original writing #linden and adam

[pepperf]

for the weird writer's asks: 5, 14, 18, 33, 35, ahhh I want to ask you too many of these, even though I kind of know the answers to some of them! I just like hearing you talk about writing and related topics. :) So answer those, if you like, and then please pick one or two more that YOU would like to answer. <3

lol - I love all these questions but this took me so long! XD

5. Do you have any writing superstitions? What are they and why are they 100% true?

I think the only one is that I don’t post WIPs. It’s not so much a superstition as it is self-awareness: I know that historically I am massively less likely to keep going once I’ve started getting comments. And if I do get comments, I create a situation where I’m relying on more of them every time in order to keep my motivation up (and that’s not how a lot of my fandoms work). Plus I like to be able to go back and make small tweaks to the start, once I get to the end, because often it’s not until I finish a story that I know the theme of it.

14. Do you lend your books to people? Are people scared to borrow books from you? Do you know exactly where all your “lost” books are and which specific friend from school you haven’t seen in twelve years still possesses them? Will you ever get them back?

I do lend books to people, and mostly I forget where they've gone, aside from one that I tried to get back, but the person insisted that it was in fact theirs and they'd bought it years ago - and I had to let it go because I actually still have a book I borrowed from them but I'm still annoyed about it (but I went and bought myself another copy because it's the kind of out of print short story book that I might want in 20 years and be unable to find) (yeah I'm still annoyed about it but I bought it when it was NEW dammit and I've had it since I was a teenager) (look it's just words it doesn't matter). I used to write or stamp my name into books, but I got bored of that, tbh, and I've tried to learn to let go and be less possessive of material objects, because it doesn't bring me happiness. XD And I do want people to read things I love!

18. Choose a passage from your writing. Tell me about the backstory of this moment. How you came up with it, how it changed from start to end. Spicy addition: Questioner provides the passage.

Okay, just bc I wanted to talk about it, have this bit from ‘and all my scars remind me (my worst days are behind me)’:

"Are you a cop?"

He stops short, a series of reactions flashing across his expressive face. He was never any good at hiding his emotions. "Are you a cop?" he counters.

"No, but then I never applied to join the police academy."

He hates lying. She can see him struggling to answer, and that's answer enough. "You still live here, don't you?" Ire rises in her. "Is this what you've done with your life, since I left? Absolutely nothing?"

His expression hardens. "Okay, we're done here," he snaps, gesturing to the door. "I'm not accountable to you. Get out!"

"Jesus Christ, Diego!"

He drops his arm and steps towards her, apparently resigning himself to this fight. "Oh, what, like you've gone on to such great heights?" he snarls. "Last I heard, you were working for a debt collection agency! Still breaking people's kneecaps for unpaid medical bills?"

He was always more dangerous when cornered. "Fuck you, I never did that kind of shit," she retorts, stung into anger.

"Extorting old ladies for back rent, then!"

This came from a discussion I had with @wheresmytowel about the idea that Diego and Lila ought to work on themselves alone before they get together, and/or the idea that they’d bring each other down in their current disorganised states. We both felt, I think, that actually there was no reason they couldn’t grow while they were together - and, even more, that they’re actually good for each other in that way, they help each other to improve.

I wanted to show my take on it, with them both stagnating after they’d had a relationship and broken up - how that combination of being alone and brokenhearted, and just the simple fact of not having someone in their life who loves and supports them, means that they both kind of end up in a similar place to where Diego is at the start of s1, pottering along in fairly unhappy existences.

They both believe the best about one another, that’s one of the things I love about them as a couple - they think each other is pretty fucking amazing, even when no one else does. That’s why Lila in particular is bitter, here - she’d thought she was breaking up with Diego for his own good, but he’s not taken that freedom and gone on to achieve his dreams, like she’d expected. And Diego is hurt that she left him, and pissed that she thinks she’s still got the right to judge his life.

I took a while to figure out where Lila would be, in this. I knew that she’d broken up with him just before he entered the academy, so in her head he’s already made detective, etc. I wanted her to have gone from a starting point of being with Diego at 19, learning some stuff about professional fighting, and then being out on her own again. It had to be a bit of a tough-guy career, because she’s competitive, but something a bit on the grey market, because she’s keeping her head down and avoiding the attention of any authorities. I think this one was @wheresmytowel‘s suggestion. :D

33. Do you practice any other art besides writing? Does that art ever tie into your writing, or is it entirely separate?

I do! I am a visual artist as well - drawing, painting, photography, printmaking, video, animation...you name it, I've tried it. And it definitely ties in. I did a Fine Art degree because I wanted to be a writer, and I thought that doing an English degree would tie me up in knots too much. I still don't know if that was the right choice, but it was certainly A choice (honestly, actually, I stand by that reasoning, but I should've gone to a better art college). And it's good to change it up: I find that at times I just need to step away from writing and do visual stuff instead, or crafts, or or baking, or something that is Not Words. But almost always I've tied words into the stuff I do, somehow (one of my favourite artists is Jenny Holzer, who is All About the words). I don't see how you could ever truly separate different arts, even if they seem unrelated, they're all coming from one central point - and that's beautiful, man. And words are my bag, ultimately.

35. What’s your favorite writing rule to smash into smithereens?

Uhhh...oh! I love to write tropes, I refuse to call them clichés, I think these things are well-established for a reason, that people love them and have a connection with them, and they create something really satisfying. They are also a good framework to play with expectations, to subvert them or use them in a different way. That’s what I love - playing with the fact that this is fiction, that there are established expectations, and that those can be used in all sorts of ways.

And one I’d like to answer...

36. They say to Write What You Know. Setting aside for a moment the fact that this is terrible advice…what do you Know?

I’m actually doing this at the moment. I decided to write an AU in the inexplicably-under-explored world of British local government, and it’s weird how much it feels like I’m speaking my own language. I never feel like I’m writing in another language, almost all the shows I love are American so that’s what I’ve been submerged in for the last, god, 30 years??? But, as you can attest, @bethanyactually, it’s still not actually my native tongue, lol! I still have to ask about some things, and speech patterns don’t necessarily come naturally to me. So writing Lila has been great generally - but even more so when I put her in her/my own country, in a setting that I know. It’s making me want to write more of the kinds of stories I love, but set here.

Okay, I think I’ll stop there! Thank you!!!

#writing #mememe

[suckitsurveys]

Do you think that you are a good singer? No, but I still sing.

Are you sure of your sexuality? All I know is that I’m not straight.

Do you love your parents? I do.

Do you like to read? No.

Do you think that you are a good writer? Eh.

What was the last compliment that you got? One of my niece’s soccer teammates told me they liked my hair today. 

What does your home phone look like? Who still has a home phone?

Do you eat candy daily? No. Have you ever moved to a different home? Yes. 

Have you ever switched schools? Only from pre-school to elementary to high school to college.

Do you like to go swimming? I LOVE swimming.

Have you ever been to camp? Sorta.

Do you have a pet? If so what? Three kitties.

Do you have trouble spelling certain words? Some maybe, but generally I’m pretty good at spelling.

Do you get nervous with public speaking? It’s not something I find myself doing often.

What is your favorite TV show? BoJack Horseman.

Do you know anyone with a really weird name? Sure.

Are you taken? I’m married

Do you fight with your parents all the time? No.

Are you in pain right now? Nah.

What are you doing tomorrow? I need to do laundry and grab a couple more things from the so

Were you single on your last birthday? Nope.  I haven’t been single in almost 12 years

How much longer until your birthday? 10 months.

Who is the last person on your received calls list? A scam call. I

Where were you at 8 am this morning? Still sleeping I think.

When was the last time you went in the car past midnight? I don’t remember.

So, you have brown eyes? No.

Ever kissed anyone with the name Joe or Dave? I’ve kissed a Joe before.

Who was driving the last three cars you were in? The last 3 times I was in a car it was my own car.

Does anyone call you babe or baby? Yeah.

Who is your last text from? My friend Lolly.

What languages can you count to ten or higher in? English and Spanish

Last missed call? That scam call I mentioned earlier.

Do you drink lots of booze? No.

Who was the last person you talked to before you went to bed last night? My husband.

Have you ever felt like you literally needed someone? Of course.

Are you one of those people that get nervous around babies and small children? Sometimes.

Do you use text lingo like ‘ur’ & ‘2’ whenever you text or instant message? I use some text lingo, but not those.

Do you update your Facebook status often? When’s the last time you updated it & what did it say? Not super often. The last thing I posted was a picture of our cat.

Who was the last person you held hands with? My husband.

Are you outgoing or shy? I can be both.

Can you legally drink? Yes, I’m 33.

Will you be married in the next 2 years? I will still be married, yes.

Are you taller than 5’5”? Nope.

At this very moment what should you be doing? Nothing in particular.

Do you have any medication you have to take every day? No.

Ever kissed anyone with a nipple piercing? No.

What about a lip piercing? No.

Who’s the last person who you went out to eat with? My dad.

What are you doing tonight? This shit, MAAAYBE watching SNL but probably not.

In winter, would you rather wear a jacket or hoodie? Depends on the weather.

Do you wish you were somewhere else right now? Nah.

How old do you look? I don’t know.

Where are your siblings? My sister is at home.

What are you going to do after this? I might play Geoguessr.

What color shirt are you wearing? Navy blue.

Have you ever voluntarily read the Bible? No.

Why do you think most teenagers don’t enjoy reading? I don’t know.

How much is gas where you live? Like $4 something.

How many good friends do you have? A small handful.

When was the last time you were on the phone? I just had it in my hand a second ago lol.

Did you get any compliments today? Yes.

Have you ever gotten a spray tan? No.

#surveys #at home

[ootahime]

analyzing every gojohime moment in the manga 😈

this series will probably have more than one part because tumblr only lets me upload ten images per post </3

warning: there are disgustingly long paragraphs in here and delusions

chapter 32

utahime’s first introduction!  akutami lets us know right off the bat that she thinks gojo is an idiot (so true).

chapter 32

i love the contrast between miwa and utahime’s reaction to gojo’s appearance.  

chapter 33

NAH BC TELL ME WHY HE WENT OUT OF HIS WAY TO NOT GET HER ONE LMAOOOO!!  when he traveled overseas to meet with yuta, he picked up the tribal protection charms and thought to himself, “let’s get enough for the kyoto students as a gift since i am such a great and caring teacher, after all.  mmm, i should skip utahime to make her mad~”  this guy puts way too much effort into getting on her nerves.  his mind = utahime brainrot

chapter 33

she’s laughing at him here because he’s getting disciplined for being a lil shit.  i wonder...what would he say if he saw her laughing at him like that?  

chapter 33

this interaction between them is a little strange don’t you think?   i feel like over the years he’s learned how to pick up her mood based on the way she’s acting towards him.  you’re probably thinking, “well any person can figure out how a person’s feeling based on the way they’re talking or acting.”  yes, that’s absolutely true, but it’s kind of different with this.  she’s acting normal.  utahime has a rather indifferent expression on her face and what she says is spoken in a calm tone, but gojo still asks her if she’s mad at him.  it’s likely that he knows her well enough to be able to notice these subtle things.  even if she wasn’t actually mad at him, he was being considerate for a split second, then he went and said, “of course.  i didn’t do anything wrong and all.”  what a guy LOLOL.  to me, this implies that maybe he made her genuinely angry in the past to the point where he realized that he went too far, and thus decided to be more careful of her feelings.  she has definitely gotten annoyed at him so many times after that so whenever she seems angry, he probably asks himself if he took it too far.  i’m curious to see if he can pick up if she’s upset with something that’s not involving him.  would he console her?  how does gojo satoru console someone?  

despite him always annoying her, she’s still courteous and brings him a cup of tea during their talk.  she didn’t have to go out of her way to get tea for him but she did.  that’s the kind of person utahime is.  a kind and caring woman who would never put her students in danger.  in the anime they were sitting far away and not facing each other like they’re doing in the manga.  she also has her own tea cup.  i think that little panel of her placing the cup down on the table and him picking it up to take a sip is a nice little detail.  it just proves that her hating him most of the time isn’t actually pure hatred but annoyance because of his shenanigans and teasing.

chapter 33

i touched upon this a little bit in my previous post, but i wish to go more in depth about this panel.  first of all, he ends the sentence with her name twice.  two times too many, mr. gojo.  i like how they can be serious with each other too LOL.  i wish we got to see them talk about the traitors because they did figure it out together after all.  does it always end in bickering?  can they interact with each other like adults all the way through?  somehow, i feel like that’s not possible when it comes to these two.  furthermore, notice how gojo confides in utahime about his suspicions.  from what we know, she is the first person he brought it up to.  i mean, i guess he has to start investigating the schools and would need extra assistance to save time, but he could have done it himself if he really wanted to.  by deciding to ask for her help we know that he thinks she’s trustworthy, smart, and strong enough to face whatever considerable risks this task may entail.  

i didn’t point this out in my other posts but see how he makes a hand sign in the last panel when she throws the cup at him?  gojo is manually activating his infinity.  why though?  about a year after the whole star plasma vessel incident happened, gojo develops the ability to keep his infinity up at all times by using the reversed curse technique to consistently heal himself to prevent exhaustion.  this means that it really makes no difference whether he leaves it on or off.  there are a few times where we can witness someone actually touching gojo.  for example, yuuji giving him a hug.  did he turn his infinity off, or was it able to deduce that yuuji was not a threat?  the erasers and pencils shoko and geto threw at him during his demonstration of his new ability aren’t dangerous normally, but is it the speed that makes them dangerous?  even if it did hit him, it wouldn’t hurt.  how does the infinity know when to allow an incoming object to touch gojo?  i believe it is up to gojo himself to let things touch him; his infinity restricts anything and anyone.  some people say it could just be the fact that water is not dangerous to him, so therefore, he has to manually put his infinity up.  i thought this was a reasonable explanation as to why he put up the hand sign when the tea was thrown at him, but then i realized that it couldn’t be.  remember the second opening?  it’s raining and everyone is carrying an umbrella, then it pans to gojo with a bouquet in his hand and rain drops slipping off his infinity.  if he DID manually put his infinity up to prevent getting soaked then that implies that he chose to turn his infinity off.  you can argue and say that jujutsu high is a safe place with students so there’s no need to have his infinity there, but do you remember when he stepped on the ants in front of gakuganji and yaga?  the ants were perfectly fine after which insinuates that his infinity prevented his shoes from crushing the ants.  he most likely had his infinity on during the baseball game even though he was in a safe environment.  how does this long tangent relate back to utahime?  well, it simply indicates that gojo trusts utahime so much to the point where he can be vulnerable around her.  turning off his infinity symbolizes completely letting down his guard  in a way.  

how about what happens next?  utahime throws the tea at him, he turns on his infinity to deflect it, and he responds with, “scary!  hysteric women aren’t popular, you know!”  why would he even say that LMAO??  utahime doesn’t even try to deny what he said either.  she just hits him with the good old, “i am your senpai!”  could it be that he’s trying to poke fun of her relationship status?  maybe, maybe not.  doesn’t he like people a lil crazy?  he did say that all jujutsu sorcerers have to be a little crazy because they’re willing to put themselves in danger constantly.  

chapter 0 p.1

i wonder who he’s thinking of when he said that.  could it be utahime?  it seems like he’s reminiscing or thinking about someone.  he wears an amused expression on his face as he laughs - almost like he’s seen his fair share of how scary women can get :>>

chapter 34

the pattern behind gojo and utahime is called yagasuri “fletching,” a traditional japanese design.  this design is inspired by arrow fletching.  it's a lucky charm for weddings and other celebrations since it's based on the Japanese belief that an arrow shot once never comes back.  brides were given kimonos with this pattern for good luck during the edo era (1603–1868) to ensure they would not have to return to their original family home.  this pattern can have numerous meanings such as steadfastness or determination to achieve a goal, or a wish for the happiness of the bride.  there is a belief that a bow and arrow represent the fight against evil.  honestly, this meaning fits the narrative of the story.  utahime and gojo are unearthing the traitors that are feeding intel to the curse users and cursed spirits.  they are in the middle while the kyoto students surround them, which could mean that it’s their job as adults to protect these children from the grasps of evil slowly making itself more prominent.  do you also notice that the arrows are pointed toward utahime from gojo?  from all the images i’ve seen, the arrows are usually pointed downward.  what could this mean?  is gojo trying to protect her (in the future (?)) or does he have a big fat crush smh...

i think it’s a good time to mention utahime’s clothing.  she’s wearing miko attire.  miko are shrine maidens who were once thought to be shamans (you connecting the dots?).  in their service to shrines, miko used to perform spirit possession and takusen (in which the possessed person acts as a "medium" (yorimashi) to communicate the divine will or message of that kami (god) or spirit; also included in the category of takusen is "dream revelation" (mukoku), in which a kami appears in a dream to communicate its will).  this was back in the old days, of course.  to become a miko back then (shaman), one needed to have potential.  neurosis, hallucinations, odd behavior, and hysteria (HYSTERIA HELLO???) are some of the signs that a person is being called to shamanism.  when a miko is communicating with a kami (god) or spirit by acting as a medium, she is in a trance-like state, and so she must learn techniques to control herself when this happens.  chanting and dancing were used to accomplish this, so the girl was taught melodies and intonations that were used in songs, prayers, and magical formulas.  all of this could give us insight about utahime’s technique and explains why she’s good at singing :)  maybe she can’t control herself when she uses her technique which is why she isn’t shown using it because it should be used for dire situations.  i imagine being possessed by a spirit or god must consume a lot of cursed energy.  it makes sense that utahime and gakuganji wear traditional clothing.  they’re the staff of jujutsu high’s kyoto branch.  in chapter 0, kyoto is known as the sacred land of jujutsu.  it’s more traditional compared to tokyo.  if you want to learn more about miko, you should check out the wikipedia page!  

chapter 34

i swear he tries to annoy her every chance he gets.  i bet he sets a goal for himself to see how many times utahime lectures him about respecting his seniors every time he’s within the same vicinity as her.  at least he called her utahime-sensei!!!

chapter 40

this isn’t even a gojohime moment tbh...i just wanted to share a pic of them sitting next to each other HEHE.  why are they sitting next to each other anyway?  it’s not like they have assigned seating.

----

that was so long and i apologize for the gargantuan paragraphs you guys had to read through.  i’m writing this at 4 in the morning and i’m feeling borderline delirious so i apologize if there are any errors.  i’ll edit this when i have time <3

the next part should come shortly.

#gojohime #gouta #gojo x utahime

[fandom-imagines-stories]

365

Season Two Premier 

Dean Winchester x Reader

Words: 2385

Masterlist 

Summary: At peace with her family, Amara gives Dean a reunion he was never expecting. But Mary isn't the only one she brought back. Now two women must adjust to being in the land of the living, one having been gone for 33 years, and the other having spent the past 365 in hell. 

Notes: I told you I had something planned! Let me know if you’ve missed this series and if you're happy to see more. Responses mean the world. 

-

Amara looked at each picture curiously. She saw Dean as a young boy, smiling brightly in the arms of his mother. The woman that started it all. Her death put him on this course. This painful, dark journey. Amara set the picture aside, noticing something shine from the back of the drawer. 

She took out a small tin box. Inside were more photographs. Amara examined one in particular. It was Dean leaning over the hood of his car. Around his waist were the arms of a laughing woman. He had a glint in his eyes that Amara hadn’t seen. It was then that she understood. Dean would never be with her. He could never join her in her new world. His heart was far, far away. Perhaps she could bring it back to him. 

-

Mary couldn’t get her out of her head. That woman. Who was she? She had looked at her… like she knew her. 

“You okay, mom?” Sam asked, noticing the far off look in her eyes. She had been acting strange, but that was, of course, understandable. She just came back from the dead, for Chuck’s sake. She gave her youngest a small smile. 

“Yeah, I’m just daydreaming, I guess.” She glanced around the kitchen, noticing an absence. “Where’s Dean?” 

“He’s probably going to spend the day in his room.” Sam sighed deeply. “Today is a sort of anniversary for him.” 

“Anniversary? For what?” From the look on her son’s face, it couldn’t be good. Sam sat down and motioned for her to join him. 

“A few years ago- three, to be exact- we lost someone. Dean lost someone.” He clasped his hands together on the table. The wound of losing one of his closest friends had healed some, but it still stung. Especially today. “He loved her. And she loved him. Maybe too much.” He shook his head. It felt like so long ago. 

“Dean found someone?” Mary smiled slightly. She had hoped her boys had been loved by someone, since she wasn’t there. Sam nodded. 

“Yeah, yeah he did.” He tried not to get choked up, but remembering still pained his heart. And for Dean… After losing Jessica, Sam wouldn’t wish that pain on anyone. His brother had shouldered it for the past three years, accepting little to no help. He never even talked about her. 

“What happened?” Mary asked softly. Sam opened his mouth to answer, but he didn’t get the chance. 

“She died.” Dean said, having appeared in the doorway without them noticing. He crossed the kitchen and poured himself some coffee before joining them at the table. “Three years ago today.” 

Mary didn’t know what to say. She had more questions, but it didn’t seem like the time to ask them. Sam and Dean both looked… broken. All she could do was offer some kind of comfort. She put a hand on top of each of theirs. 

“I’m sorry.” 

Dean looked into her eyes and she looked into his. They weren’t the same eyes of her bright little boy. They held so much pain, so much loss. She had to tear her gaze away. 

She had only been back for about a week and everything was so overwhelming. She should have been there for them. She should have made sure that they never had to feel this pain. She never wanted them to be hunters. She just wanted them to be boys. 

Dean finished his coffee and retreated to his room. Sam looked like he wanted to say something, but he just sat in uncomfortable silence. Mary’s heart ached. She just wanted them to be boys. 

-

He should be used to losing people by now. In three years, he should have gotten over it. Losing you. But even now, the image of your last smile as the hell hound tore away your flesh was burned into his brain. He would never forget. He opened the drawer of his desk and found the small tin box. 

A quiet knock caught his attention and he turned to see his mother in his doorway. She gave him a small smile. 

“Can I come in?” He nodded in reply and she sat on the edge of his bed. For a moment, she didn’t have the courage to say anything. How would he react? Would he get upset and make her leave? Or would he close up and not say a word? Maybe, hopefully, he would talk to her. He could make her forget how much she had missed. “Can you…” She paused, waiting for a sign to continue. Dean looked at her expectantly. “Can you tell me about her? I know you probably don’t want to talk about her, I just-”

“It’s okay.” He sighed, putting a hand on top of the box on the desk. “Sam’s always saying that if I talk about her, it keeps her alive in a weird, hippy sense of the word.” He shook his head to himself. Mary watched him carefully, making sure she didn’t push any boundaries. 

“What was she like?” Dean thought for a moment. 

“Stubborn.” He chuckled deeply. “If she thought she was right, you’d never get her to budge and she always thought she was right. God, the fights we used to get into…” He paused, recalling a few in particular. “She had a big heart and wasn’t afraid to show it. She was tough and smart and funny and beautiful. Best damn pool hustler I’ve ever seen. That’s actually how we met.” 

Dean leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He ran a hand over his face, trying to hold back tears. 

“How long were you together?” Mary wondered. He wasn’t looking at her anymore. He was staring off into memories. 

“Four years.” He answered quietly. “She- uh- she was there for me when Sam…” This was more than he was ready to talk about with her. How was he supposed to tell his mother that her sons have been to hell? How did he tell her that Y/N was there because of him? He forced his shoulders back and sat up straighter. “Anyway, um, this-” He passed Mary the box of photos. “This is her.” 

Mary opened the tin slowly, peering down at the photographs with a sad curiosity. As she looked through them, her expression changed. She selected one that gave her a clear view of the woman’s face. She was smiling, a beer in hand and a bright glint in her eyes. Dean was beside her, staring at the woman like she was the only thing in the world. Mary’s eyes widened and Dean noticed her body language shift. 

“What is it?” 

“Dean I…” Mary was hesitant, but she knew without a doubt that she was right. “I’ve seen her before.” Dean’s brows knitted together. 

“What?”

“I know this girl.” 

“Mom, that-” Dean sighed, “That isn’t possible. You died before Y/N was three.” Mary handed him the picture. 

“I saw her, Dean.” She insisted. 

The two stared at each other. Mother and son. Dean broke his gaze first. 

“I think Sam needs help in the library.” He said, his voice becoming flat and emotionless. “Please go.” 

“Dean-”

“Mom.” He stared at the wall, his command firm. “Please, just… I need some time alone.” 

Mary didn’t say anything else. She put the pictures back in the box and tried to hand it back to him. When he didn’t make any move to take it, she set in on the desk and left. 

Dean resisted the urge to throw the box across the room. The metal was already dented and battered from other fits throughout the years. Dean just kept his eyes trained on the ground, wrapping his head around his mother’s words. She was wrong. It couldn’t have been Y/N. It just couldn’t. 

-

One Week Ago

“Mary?” You gasped, gaping at the woman across from you. Everything was dark, clouds of black surrounding you from every angle. Through the darkness, you could see a woman you only knew from pictures. A woman that had been dead for over 30 years, or at least she was when you were still on earth. You were surprised you still remembered. 

“Who are you? Where am I?” She asked, eyes wide with uncertain panic. Before you could answer, you felt something pulling you further into the darkness, yanking Mary back in the other direction. 

When you opened your eyes, you were staring at the sky. The real sky. The night sky stretched out, stars shining brightly down at you. So bright you had to shield your eyes. Your skin pricked with every movement. You were cold. You were naked and you were cold. 

You stood slowly, your legs barely able to hold yourself up. The night air sent goosebumps up your bare arms and legs. The dead grass crunched under your feet and you took a deep breath. 

“Very funny, Levina.” You called into the night. This wasn’t the first time the demon had tried to trick you, made you believe that you were free only to pull you back into your torment. “You must be running out of ideas.” You crossed your arms over your chest to try and stay warm. There was no answer. “Levina!” 

“You aren’t in hell anymore.” A voice startled you. You whirled around to see a woman in a black dress looking at you curiously. “Surely, you can tell the difference.” 

“Who are you? What do you want?” You took a defensive stance, backing away as she stepped forward. 

“I’m the one that lifted you from your torment.” She said it like it was obvious. “You’re free now.” 

“You think I’m going to fall for that again?” You scoffed. “You must be getting a little rusty, Lavina. Have to say, I like this face more than the old one.” 

“My name is Amara. We have a friend in common.” 

“Let me guess; Lucifer? Well tell the dark lord if he’s up for round two, I can handle-”

“Dean Winchester.” She interrupted, making you shut up. “He misses you. I want to give you back to him.” 

“Why the hell should I believe you?” You growled. “Dean doesn’t even remember me.” 

“You’re wrong.” She shook her head. This time, when she stepped towards you, you let her. “I can’t erase what they did to you in hell, but I can assure you that you are no longer in their grasp. Find Dean.” With that, she just vanished. Poof. Gone. 

You didn’t have many options, so you just walked. You found a road and mindlessly walked beside it. Every step ached. You had numbed yourself for so long that every gust of wind felt like a thousand tiny needles stabbing your flesh. You weren’t sure if you were capable of feeling anything else. Only pain. 

Headlights drew closer and closer, quickly joined by flashing blues and reds. You didn’t stop walking even when you heard the car door open and close. 

“Ma’am are you alright?” The police officer’s voice cut through the night, but you barely heard it. Your ears just kept ringing with the sound of your own screams. You stopped and turned around. The woman was approaching you slowly with a look of sympathetic concern. Being naked and wide-eyed, it wasn’t hard to read her thoughts. But she had no idea the depth of violation you’d been through. You took a heaving breath. 

“I need to find Dean Winchester.” 

-

Now

“Dean!” Sam called, knocking on his older brother’s bedroom door. “Dean, we need to talk.” 

“Sam, not now.” Dean groaned, opening the door just enough to give him a glare. “I really don’t want to talk or deal with any of your other hippy healing crap.” 

“It’s Jody.” Sam pushed inside without giving him time to object. “She said she needs us in Sioux Falls right away.”

“Did she say why?” 

“No, but she sounded pretty freaked. Apparently, she’s been trying to get a hold of us for a while, but things kept coming up or we weren’t answering.” Sam sighed, running his fingers through his hair. 

“To be fair, our mom came back from the dead and you were being tortured by that British bitch.” Dean countered, feeling guilty for ignoring Jody’s calls. “What did you tell her?” 

“That we’ll be there before morning.” 

Dean nodded in agreement. 

“I’ll pack a bag, you tell mom we’re leaving.” 

“I think she should stay here.” Sam suggested, keeping his voice down like it was a secret. Dean gave him a strange look. 

“What? Why?”

“She needs to adjust, Dean. Maybe giving her just a few days to herself here in the bunker will help her do that. Besides, we don’t know what’s going on and it could be dangerous and I…” He sighed. “I just don’t think she needs any more excitement right now.” Dean thought for a moment before he nodded. 

“Alright, tell her that we’ll hopefully be back in a few days and that she can call us or Jody if she needs anything.” 

By the time the two brothers got packed up and ready to go, a dark feeling had settled deep inside Dean’s chest. Something felt off. It sunk into his lungs and into throat, as if a shadow was trying to strangle him. When Sam climbed into the passenger seat, his brother looked white as a sheet. 

“You okay?” Sam wondered, half tempted to ask if he should drive, but he didn’t want to get punched. 

“Something about this feels wrong, Sam.” Dean muttered, shaking his head as he started the car. 

“What, do you think it’s a trap?” It wasn’t totally out of the realm of possibility. With the British Men of Letters and Lucifer out there, it wouldn’t be that shocking that someone was out to get them. But Dean shook his head. 

“I don’t know what it is, but with the buckets of crazy we’ve been through, I don’t think it’s good.” The two let that sink in, pulling out onto the road. Hoping to distract himself, Dean switched on the radio. Both brothers froze as the beginning words made Dean grip the steering wheel. Chuck sure had a cruel sense of humor on today of all days. 

Sister Christian, oh the time has come… 

-

General Tag: @rae-gar-targaryen; @takemepedropascal; @childhood-imagination;  @mylovegoesto; @yellowbadgergirl; @itmejado; @suckmyapplejacks

Supernatural: @desimarie12; @deandreamernp; @vicmc624; @halesandy; @livshaes; @d-whinchestergirl87; @mrspeacem1nusone

The Deal Series: @writeroutoftime

#dean winchester x reader #the deal #supernatural series #supernatural imagines #mary winchester #lucifer #amara #sam winchester #dean winchester #jensen ackles #jared padelecki #castiel #season two baby

[coochiequeens]

Sheroes

KYIV, Ukraine — They patrol checkpoints and hold down front lines, evacuate civilians and provide crucial combat medical care. Although the vast majority of Ukraine’s military is made up of men, some 32,000 women belonged to the country’s armed forces before Russia invaded Ukraine. More have joined the fight since then.

Men between the ages of 18 and 60 are banned from leaving the country, meaning that most of the 3 million refugees who have left have been women and children. But many other women have remained behind and, like so many Ukrainians, have been forced by circumstances to join the war effort. These are the stories of four who chose to stay.

Viktoriia Kramarenko

Crowds of terrified civilians scrambled under a destroyed bridge, shellshocked, gasping for breath and sobbing. Many had walked for miles. Some carried the elderly on their backs or in their arms. They clutched children, pets and whatever belongings they could manage.

Viktoriia Kramarenko’s job was to help them survive this leg of their perilous journey.

A volunteer medic, she has spent the last three weeks on the front line in Irpin, the city north of Kyiv where a Russian assault killed many people, destroyed homes and cut off phone and Internet service. Her parents are among those still inside.

While on rescue missions, she has come under fire, built a bridge out of rope to ferry urgent supplies and assisted severely traumatized civilians. Each day, her ambulance makes dozens of trips between the bridge and a checkpoint nearby where the rescued rest and regroup.

The horrors of the experience have changed her.

“I realize that I’m ready to tear the enemies’ throats with my teeth,” she said. “Each and every one of us will do that to them. And the land will burn under their feet.”

Kramarenko, 55, a medical assistant who worked at a burn hospital in the capital, began to volunteer as a wartime medic in the country’s east in 2015, using her vacation time to treat wounded soldiers and civilians on the front lines of a military conflict with Moscow-backed separatists.

When Russia invaded Ukraine last month, she quickly launched a crash course in battlefield medicine for new members of the Territorial Defense Forces — many of whom joined the fight without any combat experience.

But when Russia ramped up its assault on the outskirts of Kyiv, her work moved to the smashed bridge separating the city from her hometown of Irpin. Fearing a Russian advance on the capital, Ukrainian forces destroyed the bridge to keep enemy troops from crossing. Civilians escaping disastrous conditions in Kyiv began fleeing across the river beneath the remains of the bridge.

Kramarenko has helped ferry many of them safely to the other side.

“I chose a kind of profession that requires service to people,” she said. “I must help them save their lives.”

Sgt. Daria Filipieva

Daria Filipieva was on vacation. The Ukrainian army combat medic, normally deployed to Luhansk in the east, was spending her time off furnishing her new apartment in Kyiv.

“I made it really cute,” she said. “All these pink, fluffy carpets, kitchen furniture from IKEA, vanity mirrors with lots of lamps, with my new eye shadow palettes from Huda Beauty — and all this started. I am very furious.”

Now she sleeps in the basement of a building in the capital recently converted into a headquarters for troops. The men sleep on mats on the floor but let Filipieva, the only woman in her group, take the couch.

This wasn’t where the 33-year-old was supposed to be deployed. But when Russia invaded Ukraine on Feb. 24, she got stranded away from her normal brigade, whose phone connection was cut. Urgently wanting to help, she moved from one recruiting office to the next asking where she should go.

“I couldn’t just stay in my house because I’m a soldier, a sergeant, a combat medic, and I need to protect this country,” she said. “So I went through the whole of Kyiv to find how and where I can get a weapon, where I can be important and useful.”

Then she connected with a friend, a commander in the Territorial Defense Forces in Kyiv, who said he urgently needed an experienced combat medic to join his ranks. She got her hands on an assault rifle and joined him, and she started training her new fellow combatants in combat medicine.

“They didn’t even know how to use a tourniquet,” she said in an interview from the building where she is now based. “But now my soldiers know how.”

She first joined the military in 2019 out of a sense of obligation to “do something that will be important for my country that may be tough, may be hard and even may kill me,” she said while on a brief morning break this month. “But I will be useful for people. I won’t just live for myself.”

She graduated at the top of her combat medic course, and her quick reaction time earned her the nickname “Lightning.” The decision to join has paid off, she said.

“I can say that now when lots of people are not prepared for this big war, I’m happy to be completely prepared with all skills, with all knowledge, with all ammunition,” she said, nodding toward her rifle.

After one intense moment in the field, she recalled one male soldier telling her he had been overly excited. “'And you were just so calm, so coldblooded. How did you do this?” he asked her.

She said it was important to her that on the battlefield, she is seen not only as a woman but “a citizen of this country.”

“It’s not about the sex,” she said. “It’s about how strong we are within.”

Daria Vasylchenko

In a neighborhood in the north of Kyiv, Daria Vasylchenko feels well-prepared to greet any Russians who may break past Ukrainian defenses and try to take the capital.

“We have arranged everything here for a nice welcome,” she said, her hands running up and down the rifle she held across her chest.

Vasylchanko, 29, first learned to shoot as a child. Around ninth grade, she said, boys began studying how to use weapons at school and girls were shuttled into courses on medical aid. She rushed to learn all the medical skills quickly, then joined the boys’ class, where she learned “to assemble and disassemble a machine gun.”

Later, she said, she became well-versed in other weapons, including the Dragunov sniper rifle and the Kalashnikov.

Since the war began, she has been responsible for maintaining security in part of the city’s north — relatively close to Russian troops who have been stalled as they approached the capital. At times, men waiting in line to enlist have questioned why a woman is working as a soldier.

“They say something like, ‘Lady, why are you doing this when we are here for that?’” she said. “I just smile and say that everyone has their own job and everything will be fine.”

During peacetime, she works in public relations for Kyiv’s Municipal Security Service. She and her husband, who is a commander in the military, are now deployed to different positions in the capital.

“When there’s a chance to go home, we try to go home together and talk heart to heart,” she said. “We just talk and talk for hours.”

But this week, a Russian shell or missile struck their apartment building in Kyiv, blowing out windows and disrupting any sense of peace they might find at home. Luckily, they weren’t home at the time of the strike.

“I know that this is just a flat. We can renovate it and so on,” she said. “We continue doing our job in the army. Anything else is not important now.”

Still, having the war hit her own home, she said, “helps me to fight with more passion.”

Alona Bushynska

Several weeks ago, Alona Bushynska, 32, was a professional makeup artist, teaching others the secrets of her trade. Now she carries an assault rifle and sleeps in a building converted for use by the Territorial Defense Forces in Kyiv.

Some skills from her 17 years as a makeup artist have already come in handy.

“I’m not afraid to touch faces, eyes, or wounds. … I’m not afraid of blood,” she said. For big concerts and other stressful events, she had to juggle several tasks and work with a lot of people simultaneously. She has a reputation for a diplomatic attitude, so she has become the de facto peacemaker to settle arguments among volunteers.

“I’m always calm, so that’s why I feel kind of comfortable here,” she said. For now, she sorts medicines, manages food and prepares hot drinks. But she also knows how to use her weapon.

Two of her grandparents were competitive sport shooters, and she has studied how to use four different types of guns.

“I have a gun because something can happen, something that I hope will not,” she said. “I don’t want to use the gun. I don’t want to take someone’s life.”

But if the situation requires it, she added, “I will protect myself.”

Her mother had never held back on disapproval for her choices in life. But when she told her she had signed up as a volunteer on Feb. 24, the day the war started, she was surprised to get her mother’s full endorsement.

“I was, like, ‘What? Thank you!’” she said with a laugh. “All my life I was waiting for your support, and only now you’re telling me you believe [in] me? Thank you!”

Serving on the front lines doesn’t mean giving up style. She still wears eye makeup and her Doc Martens boots — untied.

Throughout Ukrainian history, it’s “always men who protect the country,” she said. “I think it’s not fair. I respect men so much that I came here to bring my energy and my time to protect them somehow.”

Heidi Levine, Whitney Shefte and Jon Gerberg in Kyiv contributed to this report.

#Ukraine #women in war

[thewriteside]

2002 (Anonymous Submission)

Growing up as a military brat was fun. We lived in Germany, traveled Europe and moved around. As a kid, Mom being in the Army meant “Mandatory Family Fun Days” and bike rides across Germany. Before 9/11/2001, no one talked about war. My dad had been in Desert Storm, but to 10 year old me that was “so far in history”. We moved to Texas in 1999, my dad drew the year in the concrete he poured for our front walk. We lived in the middle of nowhere. Cows were my neighbors. We didn’t mind because we still went for bike rides on Sundays and had family game nights. The only change was “Mandatory Family Fun Days” now took place at a lake with a water slide. What no one knew then was that my graduating class would have the longest in memoriam since Vietnam for our school.

On September 11, 2001 I was sitting in my 8th grade chorus class when our teacher made the announcement that a plane had hit the Twin Towers. Shortly after, the suspicion of a terrorist attack was announced, I was in history class. I remember Coach Jackson saying, “Ladies and Gentleman, pay attention, you are watching history unfold”, as we watched the news in class. That night my parents didn’t come home, the base had been locked down. At 14 I was in charge of myself and my 12 year old brother for the next 36 hours. We had no idea how much our lives were about to change.

In January of 2002 my mom’s company received their orders, they were shipping out. At first it was fun, helping mom pack her rucksacks. It was my job to stand on them to make sure everything fit. Five pairs of BCU pants, five jackets, ten shirts and as many pairs of socks as we could fit. The list was two pages long and the gear filled our entire living room. Once the last bag was locked with its small golden master lock they were set by the door. The orders had come, but no date was set.

I was 14 years old. Old enough to know how dangerous the desert would be for her, but too young to cherish the time we had before she left. Those rucksacks became a signal, if I came home from school and they were by the door, mom would be home by dinner. If they were gone, I wouldn’t see my mother for a year. Those huge green bags sat there by the door for over a month. I stopped worrying they would be gone when I came home. The rucksacks by the door became as much a piece of the decor as my dad’s ugly forest green recliner

It was a Tuesday, unusually warm even for a Texas February. They were gone. Over the next four years they stayed gone, more often than they were by the door. I felt a mix of relief and sadness. Finally, the anxiety of wondering when she would go was over, but now she was gone. My mother was in the signal battalion attached to the 4th Infantry Division. Her job was to go into the desert and rebuild the communications infrastructure that had been destroyed by the Taliban. She told us before she left that she wouldn’t be able to contact us as soon as she arrived and she didn’t know for how long we would go without talking. It was 3 months.

Over the course of my high school career I saw my mother only a handful of times. She was in Iraq for my first homecoming dance, in Egypt when I “fell in love” for the first time, in Germany when I felt my first heartbreak. Over time it became easier for me to ignore her calls than to answer. I knew she was a hero and I was and continue to be so proud of her service. But it was hard to not be angry. Being at the age a girl needs her mother most and not having her led to me feeling resentful of the career my mother was so proud of.

While my mother was across the globe, saving women and children from the terrorists, I felt alone. My mom was my hero,my best friend. Every time she said “Yes”, to Uncle Sam, it felt like she was saying “no” to me. How was I supposed to tell her I needed her more. More than whom? More than the Iraqis she was helping, more than the terrorists she was fighting? Living in a military town we were taught to be proud of our soldiers, be brave for them. If we complained we were only making their jobs more difficult. The problem with that sentiment, they never recognized, was that we didn’t ask for this. I wanted my mom but I never told her.

I can not tell you who my mother dreamed to be as a little girl, before she became a mother and a soldier. I can tell you she was the oldest of eight children, and that she is a twin. Veronica Lynn and Victoria Leigh, I only met mom’s twin once, she was nice but too quiet and she smelled like an ashtray. My mom, Veronica, worked in Westborough State Hospital when she met my father. We joke that they didn’t really work there but that’s definitely where they met. I can’t tell you how she felt the day she decided to enlist. I can tell you that she was the life of the party and we used to lay in her bed and eat junk food on rainy days watching some crime drama. I couldn’t begin to tell you what her greatest insecurities were. I can tell you that she was funny and she was always ready for the next adventure. I remember one night my mom came home, it was about 10 p.m., with an assortment of seafood. My brother and I didn’t eat seafood but when mom was in her “really good moods” there was no telling her no. That’s the night I tried shark steaks.

When I was in the 7th grade my mom was diagnosed with Hepatitis C, I used to help her with her medications and bring her cold waters. After her last tour overseas she was diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder. When I found out so much of my childhood clicked into place, she would leave to go to Walmart and come home with a new car. Or she couldn’t get out of bed for days at a time. Even on those crazy up or down days, we still laid in bed on rainy days and laughed. We could sit quietly for hours or never stop talking depending on the day. Serving overseas only served to exacerbate her symptoms. She was never quite the same.

Twenty years later, and our relationship is still strained. It is not completely one sided and if you were to ask her, she would say it is because I am just like her. Stubborn to a fault. To be honest, I never asked her to come home. I can not say with any certainty that she knew how I felt as a teenager. I also can not say she wouldn’t have retired the moment I let her know how alone I felt. I am now 33 years old, I have 3 children of my own and have built a life with the man I love. My mother has only met each of my children once. The last time she re-enlisted, I left Texas before she came back. I was living in Massachusetts for four months before she knew I had left the state. The truth is, I gave up on her. -Anonymous

#writerslife #writerscreed #short story #submit #submission #real life #us army #troops #mom #daughter #writersociety #writers #creative writing #blog #samanthaleewrites #trashcanpoems #love #family #authors #authors of instagram #authors of tumblr #slam poem #slam poets on tumblr #mental illness #mental health #bipolar disorder

[horansqueen]

Stuck With You - Chapter 34

Chapter 34: Somebody

🡪chapter 1  🡪chapter 2  🡪chapter 3  🡪chapter 4  🡪chapter 5  🡪chapter 6  🡪chapter 7  🡪chapter 8  🡪chapter 9  🡪chapter 10  🡪chapter 11 🡪chapter 12 🡪chapter 13 🡪chapter 14 🡪chapter 15 🡪chapter 16 🡪chapter 17 🡪chapter 18 🡪chapter 19 🡪chapter 20 🡪chapter 21 🡪chapter 22 🡪chapter 23 🡪chapter 24 🡪chapter 25 🡪chapter 26 🡪chapter 27 🡪chapter 28 🡪chapter 29 🡪chapter 30 🡪chapter 31 🡪chapter 32  🡪chapter 33

College Enemies To Lovers AU

characters // masterlist // instagrams // mood board

I never felt like this with somebody I never thought I'd feel like I do I never felt this close with somebody Somebody, somebody but you I never had this rush in my body I never thought I'd feel something new I never felt this close with somebody Somebody, somebody but you

Something 'bout you and the way we fit Like the stars in the night, heat of you on my skin Hadn't known you for long but it felt like years From the second we met I knew things would change

click here to be on the update list

PLEASE VOTE FOR ME, AM CONVERSATIONS, STUCK WITH YOU, NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOURS AND MY ONESHOT ON HERE!

NIALL

                                         A few days later, Devon and I had packed in silence. It was snowing and I kept glancing outside the window, seeing her from the corner of my eyes every single time. I knew I had been rough with her and I also knew that fucking her roughly against the wall of public toilets was a bad idea. At that time and with so much alcohol swallowed, It had seemed legitimate but now, I felt like an asshole and I had no idea how to handle it or what to think of it.

It was a good fuck, I wouldn't say different, but definitely not our best. I remembered the first time we had sex and the pictures she took, realizing she had never showed them to me, even if she had promised she would. Perhaps we had been so busy with our ex lovers and fighting with each other that we forgot about how amazing the few days alone at my apartment had been.

We remained silent a lot now and I hated it. I missed the sound of her laughter, her rambles and complaints, her comments while we watched a movie. The only thing I was still aloud to hear were the snores while she slept and I found myself sitting in my bed to listen to them a bit too much, and a bit too late at night.

I wanted to ask her to sit in the front seat with me in the car but I was scared she'd refuse and I was not even sure why it actually scared me anyway.

"Are you gonna ride with Lewis?"

"Mm, I'd rather ride with you." she admitted, glancing back at me before grabbing a hoodie and throwing it randomly in her bag. "Daxia and him are just getting on my nerves with their cute little nicknames and their non-stop affection. Did you know she sometimes pretends to purr? What the fuck?"

I let out a laugh and zipped my bag before turning around and letting myself fall on my bed to sit. "I know, I noticed. I think it's cute."

"Oh you would." Devon chuckled, shaking her head.

"What does that mean?"

She turned around to sit on her bed too, sending me a huge amused smile. It felt so good to laugh with her and feel like she actually cared about me that it made me want to lock the door and not go on that trip, keeping her here with me.

"The first impression you give is like, a fratboy." she admitted with a smirk. "Confident, a bit stuck-up, someone who brags all the time. Basically, you seemed to embody everything I hate in boys, especially those in college. But when we get to know you... you're a romantic, a softie. You've got the biggest heart I've ever seen in someone, and that makes you extremely endearing. That's why everyone loves you, that's the real reason you're so popular."

"Is it?" I just whispered, a bit shocked by all the compliments she had just thrown at me.

"Yes." she confirmed with a nod, sending me a fond smile that turned into a smirk. "Your face helps, too, I have to admit."

"Oh you think I'm handsome?"

She smiled more and tilted her head, nibbling on her bottom lip. "You know I do. Everyone does."

I wanted her to get up, walk to me and straddle me. I kept imagining her sitting on my lap, facing me, before her lips would meet mine. I couldn't stop thinking about my hands traveling on her body and her moaning in my mouth. I wanted her to whisper to me that she loved me while I made her cum. It sounded like the perfect scenario but I knew it wouldn't happen. I had made it clear I wanted more than just sex, and she made it even clearer that she didn't want a relationship. It was a mess, we were fucked, and I hated this situation more than I could explain. I didn't know how to handle it or change it. We had reached a deadlock and I couldn't find a solution.

Louis kept repeating me that she loved me but the more time passed, the less I was convinced. Was it even possible to resist that feeling for so long, especially when the other person is always so close? It didn't seem likely and my fate in the reciprocity of my feelings was faltering.

"My first impression of you was that you were a shy and boring girl." I admitted with a chuckle. "That's why I wasn't sure why I felt so connected to you. I don't think being around people who thinks art is useless is something I could easily do. But you turned out to be so fascinating, talented, funny and genuine. You're also a little cheeky minx, and I love how you don't let anyone walk over you, especially not me. And god knows I tried."

Her lips curled gently and she looked a bit embarrassed but I was not sure why. She licked her lips before pressing them together and finally, she chuckled.

"That's something I had promised myself when I left my old school, that I wouldn't let anyone walk all over me anymore. That I wouldn't be this... this vulnerable, naïve girl with so little self-esteem." she explained with a shrug. "It's nice to know I partially succeeded, even if it's hard to save my own heart, sometimes."

"Sometimes we just don't know how to really save it." I explained in a low tone, looking in her eyes. "Sometimes we just do it the wrong way, you know?"

"I don't know, I'm just trying the opposite of what I did last time." she confessed. I could read in her eyes how sad she was and it broke my heart.

"How does it feel so far?"

This time, she looked up and stared at me for a few seconds. "Not good."

I was trying to find the right words to tell her that she should give us a chance without being too aggressive but I couldn't find anything and after a while, my phone beeped. I sighed and grabbed it before reading Louis' text message.

"Okay, Louis is here. I didn't even know he was gone." I admitted with a frown.

"He's been so weird these days, and absent too. He's always super busy and doesn't answer my text messages."

"I think he's got a girlfriend."

Devon sent me a sad smile and shrugged a shoulder. I didn't know why she seemed so sad about it but I didn't try to find out. It was already hard to accept that she didn't love me the way I loved her, I really didn't need to start being jealous again, at least not of Louis.

"Yea that's one of my hypotheses, too"

We both grabbed our bags and got out of the building quickly, walking until we both spotted Louis' car. I held my breath but my lips finally curled when I noticed a cute brunette sitting on the passenger's seat and glanced at Devon to see her reaction. She didn't seem to think anything of it but I noticed she moved slightly closer to me.

"Look, I got to warn you two, Daxia invited Mandy and Noah, and one of them invited Abby." Louis let out as soon as we got close enough.

I glanced once again at Devon and at the same time, she had glanced at me. We shouldn't even care about Abby at all but here we were, and I was not sure why she was so much of a threat to Devon. Of course, I would be suspicious of Henry only because he's her ex boyfriend, so I could understand the aversion she felt for my ex girlfriend but at the same time, if Devon didn't love me, why was it such a big deal?

"Hey, Dev." Louis let out gently, grabbing her attention. "We won't let that ruin our trip, alright?"

She nodded and pressed her lips together before taking a quick look at the girl sitting next to Louis and then look back at him. "I'm gonna ride with Niall, okay?" she let out gently. "Give you two some intimacy."

She just sent him a fake smile and turned around. I was about to follow her when Louis yelled her name and she turned her head and raised her eyebrows up. "I just... I'm offering you the first drink, okay?"

It took her a while but she finally just nodded and we walked to my car before hopping in it. She threw her bags on the backseat and when I started the car, she immediately reached for the heating button.

"What's wrong? What happened between you and Louis?" I asked as I drove, following Louis' car the best I could.

"He's distant, and annoyed with me." she just shrugged. "People tend to get tired of me at some point but I honestly thought Louis was different."

"Devie, Louis isn't getting tired of you." I just explained, shaking my head. "He's got a new girlfriend, that's it. He's never gave up on me and he honestly could have many times. That's not how he is, trust me."

She remained silent but sighed and turned to look by the window. I would have given a lot to find out what was happening in her head but I didn't dare asking. We weren't back to being close, and we hadn't talked about those rough exchanges of words, whether it was the one we had late at night in the dark street or the one in the public toilets of a bar, and I was not sure we ever would. We could pretend everything was alright all we wanted, it was a lie. She was sad and I was in pain, and pretending we were fine was not going to change anything.

"Apparently, Daxia and Lewis are going to ride with Mandy, Noah and Abby." she finally said, taking me out of my thoughts. She typed something on her phone and my heart jumped in my chest when It made me realize that we were going to be alone again for a few hours. "That's a pretty loaded car." she added with a shrug.

"Not our problem."

"Nope, not at all." she agreed, leaning on the bench and bringing her feet up, placing them against the door of the glove box.

I noticed she had taken her boots off and even if it should bother me, it really didn't. I was in it very deep and I was literally drowning.

"That means we could have gone with Louis, save fuel and a car." she added, turning her head my way and making me chuckle.

"There's no way I'm riding with him. Not in that car. Plus, look at how slow he is. We're following him and it's a pain in my ass."

This time, Devon laughed genuinely and it made me smile. "I don't even ski, you know." she pointed out a few seconds later. "I'm just going because I'm really alone for Christmas this year, but I don't think I'll ski or anything. I brought canvases and paint, I've brought a few books and movies.. I mean I'll join you guys downstairs for a drink at night or a hot chocolate but I've never really been sportive or anything... and even less when it came to sports practiced in winter."

"Alright, no ski time for you. You know, we only go to spend time altogether. Some of us just also likes to ski."

The conversation continued for a while but when it stopped, Devon put music on and I started singing despite myself and she joined me. At some point she just stopped and even turned the volume down a bit. It made me chuckle and I glanced at her only to feel my heart jump in my chest at the way she was looking at me.

"Did I annoy you?"

"No." she whispered, leaning her head in the bench, sending me a fond smile and shrugging. "I just get so many feelings when you sing."

My smile fell and I licked my lips. It brought so many questions in my mind but every time I wanted to ask one, I stopped myself, either scared of the answer or of the way it would make her react. Before I knew it, we parked and took our stuff out, following Louis and his girlfriend in the hotel. We were walking in the lobby when Louis moved closer to us without looking at us.

"Look you two don't be pissed but, I sort of put both of you in the same room." Devon frowned while I raised my eyebrows and Louis just groaned. "Don't blame me. First off, the rest of us are sort of in relationships. I think Abby's got a room by herself so if either of you want to switch room to be with her, be my guest. Anyway, it's not like you two weren't used to share a room, right?"

We stopped near the counter but neither me or Devon had mentioned anything. Louis turned to us this time and his eyes moved from me to her and he finally rolled them. "Look I'm sorry, I just honestly thought you two would be dating by now."

I cleared my throat, feeling suddenly a bit uncomfortable, and noticed Devon bringing her shoulders up and wrapping her arms around herself, showing she felt pretty much the same. We had planned to meet in a few hours at the restaurant but it's only when Devon and I entered our room that my jaw dropped.

"I can... sleep on the floor if you want." were the only words my brain could form and express and it made Devon chuckle.

"Don't be silly, the bed's big enough for both of us." she replied, putting her bags near a side and taking her coat off before placing it on a chair. "Besides, it won't be the first time we share a bed."

Flashbacks of us cuddling in the bed of my apartment appeared in my mind and I blinked a few times as if it would make the memories even clearer. We had spent many days sleeping in the same bed but somehow, at that very moment, it felt totally different. I wondered if Louis had asked only for one bed for us because he honestly thought we were going to be together by now, or just because he's an asshole. Either way, it didn't change anything and I walked in the room to put my bags down.

I got ready to join our friends but when I got out of the bathroom, I noticed Devon in sweatpants with a book in hands. It made me frown and I grabbed my phone and my wallet, glancing at her.

"You're not ready?"

"Mm, no, I think I'd rather stay here." she admitted with a shrug. "I'm not really hungry anyway. Besides, I'm not really in the mood to see your ex girlfriend."

"Legit." I admitted, raising my eyebrows and nodding. "Do you want me to bring you something back?"

She looked up from her book and leaned her head against the pillow behind her. It made me want to kiss her and tell her once again that I loved her. It made me want to stay in the room to spend the whole evening with her.

"No, thanks, that's very sweet of you." she let out gently. "It's late anyway, I'll probably be asleep when you'll come back."

When I came back, however, she was not in bed. I frowned, realizing the lights were still on, and found her laying on the floor in a fetus position. She had put papers on the carpet to be sure she wouldn't make too much of a mess and she probably had forgotten her easel because her canvas was on the floor. I smiled when I noticed she still had a brush in hand and even more when I realized she fell sleep using yellow paint.

I turned to look at her panting and finally noticed the shades of orange and red all over it before crouching down to have a better look. I couldn't explain how good it felt to see her use other colors than dark grey and navy blue, and it made me wonder what exactly it meant. I took the canvas slowly and gently, placing it on the desk in the corner of the room before walking back to her and getting on my knees.

"Devie, hey, come on, let's get in bed okay?" I helped her up and she groaned, leaning on me and still half asleep.

I brought her in bed, laying her down and she quickly curled up again as I brought the covers over her. I got undressed and got under the blankets too, turning my body her way to look at her, my head leaning on my pillow. She looked peaceful and I noticed dried paint on her hands and forehead, wondering how long she had been asleep. The whole time I was at the table with my friends, I regretted not staying in the room with her but somehow, I knew she probably wouldn't have painted if I had been there, and the result was totally worth it.

"Mm, Niall."

I held my breath when she whispered my name and something twisted in my stomach. For a second, I wondered if she was awake but she started snoring softly again and I exhaled when I realized she had literally murmured my name while sleeping. It was the cheesiest thing ever and at the same time, I had never heard anything that made me happier.

"Don't worry Devie, I'm here." I whispered back. "I'll always be."

#niall horan #niall horan smut #niall horan fluff #niall horan fanfic #niall horan fan fic #niall horan fanfiction #niall horan fan fiction #niall horan story #niall horan writing #niall horan enemies to lovers #niall horan college au #niall horan au #niall horan uni au #my fanfics #swy

[vegalocity]

20 and 33 from prompt list 1 for staticbug please.

Dialogue Starters

20. “I just want to see you happy.”

33. “I love seeing you smile.”

Bruh getting random crossover ships in my askbox requests is such a pleasant surprise

--

Dakota was considerably different than New York, Marinette had found out. Sure both cities were big and loud and bright, but New York was absolutely brimming with superheroes, while Dakota only had two on a permanent basis.

And the crime rates reflected that more than enough.

She was sprawled out on the couch in the Abandoned Gas Station of Solitude (what a fun name for a secret base!) catching her breath from the severe workout running about the American city while in the mask had been. Sure she got quite the workout in Paris as Ladybug, but Akumas tended to be a bit more scarce in comparison. In Dakota it seemed like there was a new crime to bust every fifteen minutes. She hadn’t been prepared for this!

“You doing okay, Mari?” Virgil slid up beside her and she gave him a weak grin.

“No wonder neither of you ever broke a sweat in Paris, this is insane.” she huffed.

“Well, you’re also on Hard mode.” He shrugged, pulling an arm around Marinette’s shoulders and she responded of course by leaning in until she was brushed up against his side. “Me and Gear can fly. You’re running and jumping and grappling hook-ing. We have powers where we don’t need to get all in a villains face if we can’t deal with it some day, the Yoyo is only kinda long range.”

“Tell me more about how unprepared I am for this place Static, I’m riveted.” She huffed, tilting her head until it brushed up against his shoulder. “I’ll build up the endurance when i get into DAU.”

She felt Virgil stiffen beneath her. “You’re planning on shooting for the Dakota Arts University?”

Marinette blinked up at him for a moment. “Yeah…? Why else would my parents let me come all the way over here if not to enroll?”

“Doesn’t Paris need its Ladybug?”

“Hawkmoth got neutralized years ago, and if there was a huge thing and I needed to get back there, I brought the horse with me.”

“Didn’t you used to talk about going to Audrey Bourgeois’ old school?” Okay this was getting weird.

“Virgil, is something wrong?”

He pulled off of her and Marinette was just about to pry a little further when he huffed. “Look, Your grades are absolutely insane, you’ve got a mountain of extra carrics, the amount of people you know personally who LIKE you is completely ridiculous and i’ve fought beside the League before and met TWO Batmans.”

“I just wanna see you happy, and I get the feeling you’re only looking at DAU at all because I’m here.”

Marinette stiffened in turn. Busted. She looked off to the side, A weird sort of humming noise building in her throat as Virgil’s actually worried expression began to soften to thin amusement.

“Well-!” She paused. “With the Metabreed still causing so many problems, and that new Anti Metahuman cult, I doubt you have any plans of leaving any time soon.” She watched Virgil rub at the back of his neck, anxiety suddenly filling his face.

“Don’t say that you think it’d be more prudent-”

“It would be more prudent if I came to Dakota! With the ways I can get back to France if need be in place, but Hawkmoth and Mayura out of the way I don’t really foresee anything that Chat Noir wouldn’t be able to handle on his own, but if he did need me I’d be there easily!”

“Mari...”

“Virgil...” Though he didn’t look swayed by her folded arms or determined eyes. So she broke out the big guns. Marinette sighed and grabbed his hand in hers, splaying her fingers against his for a moment, feeling the minute scars from electrical burns he’d end up with after overusing his powers, callouses from fighting, and the bruises along his knuckles from when electricity couldn’t cut it and he just needed to deck a villain in the face. “I love seeing you smile. Your whole face lights up and you look like a kid who was just asked about his favorite videogame.” Virgil’s mouth flattened into a thin line, he was suddenly very interested in not looking at Marinette playing with his hand. She was sure if she let him go to press a hand to his face it’d be hot to the touch. “And it’s a delight on the other side of a screen sure, but… I like the real thing better.” so she gave in to her urge and let his hand go, reaching up to cup his (very warm indeed) face in her hand. For a hero constantly getting the wind whipped in his face, fighting villains with fire powers, and just barely starting to phase out of the greasy faced era of puberty, his skin was shockingly smooth beneath a stroking thumb.

“Besides, it doesn’t matter if I went to the same fashion school as Audrey Bourgeois, or any of the greats, I designed sunglasses for Jagged Stone, I made Kitty Section’s look, before he was outed as Hawkmoth Gabriel Agreste put MY Derby Hat in his fashion show.” she shrugged. “People aren’t gonna look down on me because I decided to study at some school in the midwestern United States. And if they do then that’s their problem. MDC Designs won’t need them anyway.”

Virgil huffed but leaned into her hand. “Stop being so damn cute it makes it hard to be practical.”

“Not in your life.”

--

Send me stuff!

#Static Shock #Miraculous Ladybug #Virgil Hawkins #Static #Marinette Dupain Cheng #Ladybug #Statibug #Vega writes stories too #Letters to Vega

[missdrarrydawn]

This blog is why we need post-birth abortion rights for women. Your mother would have made the right choice.

yes wow darling very smart you sound incredibly intelligent for sending this yes yes quite an outstanding achievement you got there, amazingly brave too, yes such courage to go on anon and insult people, wow i applaud your bravery truly

my blog is a HP blog with ocassional diverse content, you're getting mad at a joke post that's probably 4-5 days old by now (i'm not sure about this exactly as i lose track of time easily) that described a real medically documented experience a lot of trans women have been observed to go through as their transition and therapy continues which i said is similar to a period of a cisgender woman because of the very real similarities between the two processes

i very clearly stated twice that they are biologically different but still similar enough to warrant validation

i support trans women and i always have and i always will, they are real women just as much as i am. i also understand, unlike most of you getting mad in the notes of the post, that women are not walking talking uteruses and i do not reduce nor define women by that one thing alone because that would be ridiculous and hurtful, since there is more to being a woman than just having a uterus

i don't really see why everyone is so upset (transphobes gonna transphobe i suppose) that i called a trans woman's cycle period like or a pseudo period, when that is the most accurate term that exists for that process as of right now.

what else would you call hormonal fluctuations of estrogen and progesterone (because guess what? trans women do in fact receive estrogen and progesterone injections as part of feminizing hormone therapy) and other symptoms (abdominal cramping, headaches, acne breakouts, hot flashes, dizziness, mood swings, pain, nausea etc.) happening every 5 weeks and lasting for 6-7 days? that's right, everyone would call that a period, it's just the most accurate way to describe the process.

trans women can not menstruate, they can not bleed because they do not have a uterus (something i very explicitly stated in my post explaining my point but transphobes can't read apparently) but, like I said in my original post, the bleeding is honestly the least important byproduct of a period, or better yet, the entire cycle, because it is just that - a byproduct, a consequence of the uterine lining shedding. it is not the one defining staple of a cycle, a lot of cis women don't menstruate but you don't go around calling them fake so. the bleeding is not the goal of a monthly cycle, it is not the end result your body wants to reach (the end result would ideally be pregnancy), just a consequence of the process, and i argue it is the least important part of it, its nothing more than another symptom, just like the cramps and pain are

do you want to know what your entire argument sounds like? let me demonstrate:

person A comes in with a fever, a sore throat and a runny nose. their doctor tells them they have a cold.

person B comes in with a fever and a sore throat but no runny nose. their doctor tells them they're faking their cold and should stop pretending to have a cold because it is insensitive to people who have real colds since person B hasn't presented every single typical byproduct and symptom having a cold produces unlike person A did

yea? isn't that ridiculous? that's exactly what you sound like

'trans women experience every other symptom of a period i do, on a monthly basis like i do, lasting about a week, like mine do, but they don't experience this one specific symptom that i typically do which is bleeding therefore they're fake'

obviously the cycle of a trans women isn't going to be the same as the cycle of a cis woman, i have not once contested that nor have i equated the two, what i have done however, is defend the fact a lot of trans women do in fact experience their own form of a monthly cycle that actually presents all the symptoms of PMS (if we're going to be super picky about it) and I've stated that there is nothing wrong with a trans woman calling her own cycle a period, even if she does not experience the bleeding.

you all are just incredibly transphobic (i checked out some of the blogs replying and found them to be terfs, ew) and i don't want to cross into your territory any more than i've already ended up doing, and i will not be responding to any of your notes or anon messages anymore because i've moved on from that post and you should too, because it is obvious you will never understand what i'm trying to say and i will never understand the hatred you spew

it is telling though that terfs and transphobes came across my post which was in the 'pro trans' tag, i assume while casually browsing there for people to start fights with? very telling indeed.

i will be a doctor by the end of the year and i do not have time to argue with transphobes online over matters of trans health they know nothing about (my knowledge is far from perfect either because i am not transgender but i have listened to trans people and read about what transitions can be like because i wanted to learn and feel comfortable stating what i have). ive seen y'all constantly talk about indigestion and diarrhea which have absolutely nothing to do with the matter at hand and seen some people bring up endometriosis which also has nothing to do with the matter at hand, no one is talking about disordered periods or other health conditions, we're talking about just the regular period of a healthy person

people have asked me to provide proof i'm attending medical school which i don't think i can provide without giving out my personal information which i am not inclined to do to strangers on the internet and a lot of people didn't believe me but honestly that is not my problem

i know who i am and what i stand for and the thing i said is a true factual experience that many trans women go through as their transition continues and calling that cycle they experience a period hurts no one and only helps trans communities

of course terfs and transphobes don't care about that, which is why i urge everyone to go their separate ways. i do not want your transphobia on my posts and you don't want my activism on yours so if you're itching to comment and get pissy with me or send me anons, kindly don't because i truly couldn't care less about your opinion on matters you know nothing about and don't care to learn about either

coming from one cis woman to another, just scroll past me and any of my posts from now on and i'll do the same for you so that we may never have to interact again in any way shape or form

i'm closing my end of the discourse of the post right here with this and i stand by what i said. i believe you are wrong for invalidating the experiences of trans women and transphobic for wishing ill upon the trans community in general and i do not wish to ever associate with any of you ever again

i have said my peace

goodbye

(if any trans woman or trans person in general wishes to correct anything wrong i stated here please feel free to do so, because i am cisgender and you will of course know more about your transition and experiences than me no matter how much reading i do :)) remember you are valid and loved and pls stay safe <33)

#pro trans #positive trans #again i reiterate #PRO TRANS #THIS IS A PRO TRANS BLOG #A SAFE SPACE FOR TRANS PEOPLE #trans health #trans women are real and valid #i am not having this argument anymore #i don't like fighting and i don't care what transphobic women have to say #trans support #this cisgender women stands with the trans communities

[swiftlymoniquesblog]

Safe House- Tom Felton x Reader: Chapter 2

A/N: Hello friends! I’m so sorry I haven’t updated anything in so long; life has been CRAZY! But guess what? Yours truly just finished up all her training at the Police Academy so I am now fully a 9-1-1 dispatcher (or 0-0-0 for my Australian friends or 9-9-9 for my UK friends!) In our spare time between calls, as long as we’re still available to take calls, we can do pretty much whatever we want so I hope that means I can still write and update! Unfortunately, I do have to work on Christmas Day this year but I’m still excited for the day! 

I hope everyone has a safe and happy holiday and I hope 2021 will be 1000000 times better than 2020! And don’t worry, this isn’t the last holiday update I have up my sleeve! ;)

Xxx M

Warnings: FLUFF, pining, longing, Tom being super adorable! 

Word Count: 4,500

Previous Chapter| Holiday Masterlist| Masterlist of all Masterlists

Even though you believed you were going to be in some serious trouble when you got back to work, you were glad you stepped into that car. You were Tom's assistant and he requested your help in a task, so you weren’t really breaking any rules, right? And Tom said you were still working and that he would clear all this up with Mr. Harrington, so why were you still nervous? Was it because you left the property of your place of work still in the clock? Or was it because you were sitting with a rather attractive man inside his car and trusting that he wouldn’t try anything weird, like kidnapping you? Whatever the reason may be, you couldn’t ignore the feeling that you seemed to be taking a ‘leap of Faith’ with going with Tom, yet it all felt right. The subtle sound of Christmas music came from the car's radio and the heat from the vents provided a warming feeling deep within you. It surprised you to know that he had chosen to play Christmas music because you assumed with his schedule, holidays weren’t as important anymore. However, that proved to be untrue as a certain sparkle appeared in his eyes when he pulled into a parking spot, he jumped out of the car and rushed over to your side to help you out.

“Come on love, we have a lot to do if we want to make that tree look less sad!” He exclaims and tugs on your arm, much like a child would do with a parent. You laughed at the tall man, who beamed with a bright smile on his lips, as you struggled to keep up.

“What should we get first?!” He says, enthusiastically to you.

“Maybe more ornaments?” You suggest and his excitement only grows.

“Yes! And then we should get garland to wrap around the ornaments! And the presents!” He bounces on his toes, ever so slightly, but you notice it and think to yourself, how can a 33-year-old be this excited?

You follow him over to a section of the hobby store that was entirely dedicated to Christmas. Shelves were lined with garland, ornaments, lights, light-up statues, everything you could think of to make the holiday one to remember. Both you and Tom began pulling things off the shelves, anything to make his hotel room look more festive for his guests. A part of you wished you were able to be there to enjoy some of these decorations but you knew you were just ‘the help’ so you kept that thought to yourself. When your shopping cart was fully loaded to the rim, you decided to check out. Reaching into your purse for your wallet, you pulled out some cash but Tom put his hand out, indicating you to stop.

“Oh, don’t be silly love, I got this. This is my hotel room we’re decorating and this was my idea, so I’ll pay for it,” He says.

“Yeah, but it is my place of work so it’s only fair I pitch in,” you fight back but it proves to be useless when the total rings up and he already had a credit card inserted into the bottom of the reader.

“Maybe next time,” he shoots you a wink, causing your cheeks to redden before he slips the card out of the reader and back into his wallet. You help grab the bags and load them back into the cart as you head back out to the car. The drive back to the resort was quiet, aside from small talk, which was rather pleasant. Speaking with Tom in a quiet setting was beautiful and calming, something a lot of people don’t get to enjoy if you weren’t in his inner circle. A part of you was felt like any other fan, excited about being in an intimate setting with him, but the other part of you knew you were just doing your job. Gathering the bags in your hands, you follow Tom back into the hotel and into the elevator, where you two were forced to stand nearly squished against each other, thanks to a large number of guests flocking to the car before the doors shut. You felt your cheeks heat up at the close proximity you were to Tom but kept your lips sealed and your thoughts to yourself before the doors opened to the penthouse; everyone else left you sooner.

“Thanks a lot (y/n) for helping me with this. I don’t think I could’ve done it all alone plus it’s more fun to decorate with some company,” Tom says, as he sits the last ornament on the tree. He takes a few steps away from the tree, to take in the glorious sight before him, with you coming to stand beside him.

“It’s my pleasure and this tree looks so much better now,” you comment.

“I think it is because of you, my dear. You are the one who picked out the ornaments so you made this tree this beautiful. Beautiful people tend to make everything around them beautiful too; makes sense if you ask me,” he says, smiling softly at you, eyes glistening in the lights from the tree. His bluish-grey eyes turned another color as they reflected the lights, making him that much more attractive and leaving you in a trance of sorts. It felt like a scene from a movie; no sound, no movement, just you and him staring into one another’s eyes, until being saved by a ringing phone. He swallowed and slowly backed away from you before saying,

“I should probably get that.”

You couldn’t help but frown at his departure but you had to shake the sadness away; you still had a job to do. Looking to the bedroom, you saw him pace back and forth, obviously anxious about something, so you figured that you should go. Finding a scrap piece of paper, you scribbled on it before placing it on the coffee table in the center of the room and grabbing your belongings, leaving the room without him noticing. What am I doing? I work for the guy! How could I be so stupid as to think someone like him would be remotely interested in someone like me? I’m just a hotel worker; not even a fucking manager! You scold yourself as you sliver to the elevator and ride back down to the lobby, where about a dozen or so guests were waiting to check-in. Wishing you had your old job back, you stop to watch the guests wait to check-in, excitement and wonder coming from their faces. The children were why you chose this job. The look of their little faces was the purest form of innocence that you hoped they never lost sight of, but you knew that most of them would lose that wonder as they grew older. The magic of Christmas always fled from the youngest and truest believers as time went on and it hurt your heart. Why couldn’t Christmas be as magical for adults as it was for kids? Sure, the belief of someone flying over the world and delivering presents to every child in one night was gone, but what about the feeling? The excitement you would feel seeing the tree go up or the lights outside? How about all the traditions? When did that all go away and why did it have to?

----------------------֍------------------------------------

Tom’s POV

“Sorry about that, (y/n) that was just…” I let my thoughts trail off as I notice the emptiness of the hotel room and the piece of paper folded in half on the coffee table. I go to pick it up, feeling my heart race in my chest as I read;

Tom,

Thank you for today. I had a really nice time and I’m glad you’re happy with your room now. I forgot I…. had a prior engagement I said I would be at so I had to leave; hope that’s alright. I’ll be back first thing tomorrow morning with some breakfast and you can give me a rundown on all your plans for the day. I am so sorry incredibly sorry.

Have a goodnight,

Y/N

I swallowed a lump that had appeared in my throat and crumbled up the paper. So that was it? She only saw today as a requirement for her work? Is that how she saw me? Just as her boss or something? Because she was certainly more to me than just a hotel worker or an assistant; I thought she could tell. Why couldn’t she have just come and talk to me if she had a problem? Did I say something that offended her? Did she not trust me? These questions and more haunted my subconscious as I sigh and get myself ready for bed. I turn off all the lights in the living room before going to brush my teeth. I take out my phone and open my photo gallery, quickly finding the photo of (y/n) I snuck. She looked absolutely beautiful as she was holding a light display, the colors and glitter from the decoration reflecting onto her face. It just slightly illuminated her delicate features and I remember I had sucked in a breath of air, as she had taken all of mine out of my lungs. I smile to myself as I thought back to that moment and now? She’s gone and I can’t imagine why. I decided just to go to bed and I figured I would come up with a solution to getting (y/n) back sooner.

The next morning, I woke up rather early to get ready for my friends. Daniel had called me last night before (y/n) and I…well whatever almost happened with us, is irrelevant now. Finally, after being stuck in Denver for 24 hours, he had called to tell me that he and everyone else were on their way to the resort. Somehow, the former “Golden Trio,” as they were infamously known as, all had no plans and were able to fly out to Colorado for Christmas. Now, we all knew how risky this trip might go, with all of us together around who knows how many fans are staying at the resort, but we hadn’t been together in nearly 20 years. I was glad to be having some of my friends with me again. Because when you work on a project with the same people, every year for 10 years, you gain friends for life.

“Tom, good to see ya, mate!” Daniel said, when I opened the door after hearing a knock on the door.

“Hey guys, glad you all could make it! So sorry to hear about such a delay, though!” I try to sympathize with my friends but I’m sure it fell on deaf ears because they shared a similar look of annoyance as if to say, “like you have any idea what we’ve just been through.”

“Well, it was certainly a nice, warm, welcome to the State of Colorado,” Emma said, sarcasm dripping off her tone of voice.

I smile sadly, trying to avoid further awkwardness, hugging the girl as I feel her sigh, tension dissipating from her muscles.

“Wow Tom, this place is so well decorated! Did you do this by yourself?” Rupert asked as he took in the festive environment of my room.

“Oh no, of course not. I’m not good at decorating at all! I had some help,” I say, smiling at the not-so-distant memory of decorating with (y/n).

“Wait, you hired someone?” Emma asked.

“Not exactly. The resort sent me a…personal assistant of sorts,” I try to explain to the three actors who just had blank expressions on their faces.

“Why would the resort send you an assistant?” Daniel asked.

“I’m not sure, she said it was because the resort wanted to offer their services 24/7,” I explain what reason (y/n) had given me.

“Who’s she?” Rupert asks a light of cheeky demeanor glistened in his eyes.

“Oh (y/n), my assistant,” I say, a grin showing itself on my lips.

“Wow, (y/n) what a beautiful name! She must be really special,” Emma said.

“She is and I’ve only known her for 48 hours. She’s supposed to be coming back today to help out but, now I’m not sure if she’s going to,” I frown, really not sure what was going to happen with (y/n).

I wasn’t quite sure what I felt for (y/n) but I knew I wanted to get to know her better and I wanted to make sure she knew she could trust me. Just then, there was a knock on the door. My heart drops, hoping it was her.

“Good morning, Mr. Felton. I’m here for whatever you need me to help you with,” (y/n) greeted me when I opened the door. What was she saying? I told her she could call me Tom; where is this Mr. Felton crap coming from. Oh, her note. Maybe this is what she was talking about. Maybe she thought she needed to stay professional whenever she was around me; was that why she left suddenly?

“Good morning, Miss (y/l/n). Yes, please come in,” I say, standing to the side so she could come in the room.

“Thank you, well I brought some coffee and a selection of our best food for breakfast from our…” She suddenly stopped talking and she seemed to be frozen in place.

“(y/n) are you alright?” I say, standing closer to her. She was looking directly at the “Golden Trio” that was currently sitting in the living room, chatting away. They all stopped and looked up at her, and smiled at her.

“Hello, you must be (y/n) Tom’s told us all about you,” Emma says, standing from the couch where she sat with Daniel, to shake (y/n)’s hand.

She still seemed to be in some sort of trance until she saw Emma’s hand extended to her.

“Oh yes, sorry, I got a lot on my mind. It’s really nice to meet you, Miss Watson,” (y/n) kept up with the politeness.

“Oh please, call me Emma. Makes me feel so old hearing my last name first,” She says as we all chuckled.

“Well Emma, this is an honor. I am a rather a big fan of your work,” (y/n) complimented.

“Oh, thank you, that’s so sweet,” Emma says, seemingly still not believing she’s as talented as people make her up to be. Sure, she knew she was a talented actress, but she was always humble about it, ever since we were kids. One of the many things people tend to love about her.

“Hey now, you never said you were a fan of mine!” I try joking with my assistant, her cheeks turning red as she avoided my eyes set on her.

“You didn’t ask,” she said, before greeting Daniel and Rupert and telling them how much of a fan of theirs she is.

“Hold on, is this like a Harry Potter reunion?” (y/n) asked, finally letting her guard down a bit.

We all starting laughing as the resort worker just stared at us.

“You can say that,” Rupert said.

“Wow, this is, how long has it been since the four of you have been together for more than just a day” (y/n) asked.

“A good twenty years. We’ve seen each other since then obviously, but in more than just passing than really spending time together. After the eighth movie wrapped up, we all went our separate ways. And considering I was getting into some trouble with fans back home, I decided to get away from all the craziness and I wanted to invite some friends to spend some time with me, so I wouldn’t be alone, you know?” I say, giving the whole background story so (y/n) could fully understand why I was here and why the “Golden Trio” was here, too.

I could tell, just by looking at her, that she was trying hard not to freak out; she really is a big fan, then. It was rather adorable if you ask me. She was biting the corner of her bottom lip, quite harshly too, and her eyes would bounce between the three actors around the fireplace.

“Well, the Harrington Ski Resort is thrilled to have all four of you here, but why did you make the reservation for ten?” (y/n) questions me.

“Well, we have teams of security so they all their own rooms, and then I have a few more friends coming tomorrow so I wanted to make sure everyone had their own space,” I explain.

“Alright, so what plans do you have for today, Mr. Felton?” (y/n) asks and I’ve about had enough of her formalities.

“Um about that, may I speak to you in private please?” I ask and she nods timidly.

“If you all would give us a minute, help yourselves to some food,” (y/n) says, just as a waiter came in the room with carts of food for everyone to share.

“What’s going on, Mr. Felton?” (y/n) said, when I shut the doors to the bedroom.

“First of all, please, just call me Tom. Second, I read your note last night; what was that about?” I go straight to the point.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Tom.”

“Oh, I think you do (y/n). Yesterday was amazing; I haven’t had that much in so long and we seemed to have been getting on really well. And then we have…well I’m not sure what exactly happened in front of the fireplace but I wouldn’t mind that happening again. But then you just up and leave? And leave a note with a lack of proper explanation. Did I push you into something you weren’t comfortable with? Did I offend you somehow? If I did something wrong, please tell me, so we can try and work it out,” I say, almost pleading with her.

“No, it’s not that,” she says, pacing on the opposite side of the room than me.

“Then what is it? Do you not trust me? Are you uncomfortable being around me?”

“No, it’s not any of that!” She says, a little more frustrated than before.

“Then what?!” I say, just as she had.

“I can’t tell you,” she says, avoiding looking or getting close to me.

“And why not? I don’t understand why you left so suddenly last night or why you can’t even look at me right now,” I say, hearing my voice crack as I grew more desperate for an answer.

“Because how I feel about you right now, is going to get me in trouble. I felt something last night by the fireplace and I can’t allow myself to continue to feel like that. I am your assistant and while I’m here, that’s all I can be. I don’t know what I felt but I know it’s dangerous and I know I can’t keep feeling like that as long as I work for you. Mr. Harrington would surely fire me if he ever found out and I really need this job because I want to become something more than what I am right now. Do you understand?”

Wow, I definitely didn’t expect her to say that now. But she felt something between us last night too? And that’s why she left! She was scared of what she felt at the fireplace last night. I don’t blame her; I felt it too. But she needs to know she can allow herself to feel things.

“Look (y/n) I’m so glad you said something. I felt something last night too and it scared me too. I don’t know what that was either but I liked it and I want to feel that again. As for your job, I know this is so important to you, so I won’t do anything that would jeopardize whatever plans you have for this job; I promise. But, may I suggest something?” I ask and wait for her approval. She simply nodded.

“How about we don’t tell anyone about…whatever we may from this? I want to explore whatever last night was, but only if you want to of course. I think we should start off as friends, a little more intimate than just boss/coworker but I want to really get to know you before we decide to take anything further. Although, I don’t believe we’re going to learn anything about the other that won’t make us want to go further with a friendship, but just in case. How’s that sound?” I reason with her, nervous about how she was going to react. I figured with her confession of some feelings for me, she must agree with my idea.

“I think that sounds perfect, Tom,” she says, smiling up at me. I mirror her expression, finding a smile of my own.

“Would it be weird if I just hugged right now?” I ask, still unsure what to do with this, new information.

“Of course,” she says, slowly moving closer to me until she stood just inches from me. She craned her neck to look up at me. I slowly move closer to her, my arms making their way around her waist. She stood on her toes to grow a few inches higher so she could wrap her arms around my neck. I sighed, content with the feeling of her in my arms. She smelled like peppermint; it reminded me of a candy cane. Her skin was so soft and her hair was sprawled across my face but it didn’t matter. We stayed like that for a while, just staying close to one another and enjoying the warmth from the other until we felt completely content. Pulling away from one another, I smiled at her, her face showing the same happiness as mine had before she spoke up.

“I have a question and you can say no if you want.”

“You haven’t even asked it yet,” I say to her as she nervously wraps some of her hair behind her ear.

“Right, okay, well I wanted to see if maybe since Daniel and Emma and Rupert are here, could we watch some Harry Potter? I know it’s been a long time since any of you have seen the films, but I have so many questions to ask,” she says, pulling on her bottom lip.

“Well, I would love to answer all your questions but we’ll have to ask the others if they’re up for it,” I say fondly to her.

“Oh, wait, work. Do, do you need me to do anything for you?”

“What I need you to do is watch the Philosopher’s Stone with me and my friends,” I grin at her.

“As long as they say it’s okay,” she adds.

“Oh, I’m sure they won’t say no to you, much like I can’t seem to,” I admit, rubbing the back of my neck.

Her cheeks tinted pink, just a bit, but I caught it before it disappeared.

“What about work?” She asks.

“Well, I’ll talk to Mr. Harrington and tell him some chores I need someone else to do for me. I’ll make sure you won’t get in any trouble,” I say to the girl, who’s eyes just light up. I guess I was starting to make an impression on her.

“That would be amazing, Tom, thank you,” she says, coming to me for a second hug. It wasn’t as long as the first one but it meant just as much. They have just been hugs but for me and (y/n) it was our way of expressing our feelings for each other; it was perfect.

We walk back into the main living area where we see the “Golden Trio” deep in a conversation about what the last twenty years have been like.

“Hi guys,” Emma says, looking over to me and (y/n).

“Hi, so (y/n) here has something she would like to ask you guys,” I say, looking to my right to the girl who somehow grew more nervous than I’ve ever seen her.

“Sure sweetheart, what’s on your mind?” Daniel asked, bringing all the attention to (y/n).

“Well, I know you all are probably annoyed with all the questions you’ve gotten over the years about Harry Potter, but I was wondering if you all wouldn’t mind if we watched the first movie together? I have a lot of my own questions I would love to have answers too but if you guys don’t want to go down memory lane again, I completely understand,” (y/n) asks, rather quickly, but I think she still got her point across.

“You’re right, I don’t think any of us have seen those movies in such a long time, and yes, we do get kind of tired of all the questions. We still get asked questions about the film series, even after all these years. However, any friend of Tom’s is a friend of ours, and if you really want to ask questions as we go through the film, then I don’t see what harm that’ll do. It might be embarrassing for us to see ourselves twenty years younger than we are right now, but it might still be fun,” Daniel said, grinning at the other members of the Wizarding World around him.

(y/n) just squeals a bit in excitement and it surprised all of us. “Sorry, I’m just really excited to finally be able to ask all the questions that I’ve had for so many years,”

“Hey, it’s okay. And hell, it’ll be wild seeing ourselves so young. I bet we can still say a lot of the spells too,” Rupert added.

“Oh man, that was going to be one of my questions,” (y/n) said, frowning, before Rupert shot her a quick apology.

“Does someone have the films with them right now?” Emma asks.

“I do,” I say, walking over to the entertainment center that sat under the television.

“You travel with them, don’t you?” (y/n) teased.

“Of course, I do! You never know when you’re going to need to see these!” I say, proud of the work and character I did in those films. It launched a career for all of us and opened so many doors for so many other films or shows. We owe all our credit to our success as actors to those films and if it wasn’t for them, I don’t know what we would be doing now. I couldn’t speak for the others, but I was happy with being able to go back and watch the work we did for so many years, especially having so many people joining the fandom nearly 10 years after the last film was released. I will forever hold Draco in my heart and be grateful that people still respond to him, even in negative ways. I always laugh and apologize when people say they hate him and his attitude because he is the exact opposite of me and I still hope people stick around to know the real me.

Tags: @tloveswriting @angelinathebook @lunalovecroft @hobby27​ @slutforfics​ @thinkinghardhardlythinking​ @to-my-beloved-fandoms-2​

#Tom Felton #tom felton fanfic #tom felton x reader #tom felton x you #tom felton x y/n #daniel radcliffe #Emma Watson #Rupert Grint #slytherin #Gryffindor #Harry Potter #potterhead #pottah #hermione granger #Ron Weasley #HOLIDAY FLUFF #fluff #pining #longing