#'how could the normal people let it happen' we would ask when reading history books

[ltpolari]

doesn't surprise me considering this: louisshomesharry/732996598339108864

oh

[kingdomvel]

Obikin au inspired by stardew valley where Anakin has inherited a farm and decided to take care of it and Obi-Wan is the town’s doctor.

This is: Farmer Anakin gets his health check-up.

Anakin tries to ignore it. He smiles, politely and then powerwalks away from the clinic. He tends to walk in front of it on his way to the shop where he buys his seeds or arranges to sell his product. Always parking his truck where the clinic is in his path. Always hoping to catch a glimpse of the hot doctor that lives and works in the house.

He had not expected Obi-Wan to acknowledge him with more than a polite smile, and that is he even saw him because even if the town is small, Obi-Wan does have people to attend, so Anakin can only see him when there are no patients and the weather is warm, sitting at his porch with a book, a newspaper or learning the newest medicine breakthroughs. Sometimes so focused on his readings that he doesn’t even notice Anakin walking past him – and those days are the best, because Anakin can gawk at him as much as he wants, slowing down his pace so he has a few more seconds of looking at the most handsome man Anakin has seen in his life.

On a normal day, even if Obi-Wan sees him, they don’t exchange more than a polite smile and greeting but today, today, Obi-Wan had said his name just as he was approaching the clinic, and Anakin is sure he blushed, so he is trying to hide it by walking away as fast as he can.

“Anakin!” Obi-Wan’s voice says again, and he sounds close, and he shouldn’t sound close, not when Anakin is walking away at the speed he is, unless Obi-Wan has gotten up from his place and-

A hand on Anakin’s arm stops him from going further, and when he turns around there Obi-Wan is, a bit out of breath, a quick smile on his lips as he says his name again - and Anakin thinks that he could fall in love from that alone – before he squeezes Anakin’s arm and lets it go.

“I’m sorry for stopping you like this when you obviously have things to do.” Obi-Wan says, as if Anakin had anything better to do than talk with him, as if the only reason Anakin didn’t stop, didn’t spend all his time trying to speak with the doctor, was because he is embarrassed about his crush and about acting like a fool in front of him (or at least that’s the reason since Obi-Wan had to drive him home after he had found him almost passed out in a field because he didn’t take enough water with him). “But I was thinking that you’ve been here for five months already,” of course Obi-Wan remembers exactly when Anakin arrived, as if he needed more reasons to fall for him, “and you have not really come to see me at the clinic, and because of what happened-“ Anakin tries not to die of mortification at the mention of the incident, “I think it would be good if you came for a check-up. When is the last time you went for one?”

“Uhhh…” Anakin says, eloquently, because he doesn’t know how to tell the concerned and perfect doctor that the last time he had talked to a doctor for something health related since he had his last paediatrician check-up was when Obi-Wan himself had lectured him about keeping hydrated and away from the sun in summer.

“Right” Obi-Wan says, because he must understand Anakin’s lack of an answer. “I regularly do check-ups for everyone in town, so whenever you feel ready for one, just come over and I will see you. We could even do it now if you are not in much of a rush?”

And then Obi-Wan smiles, and there’s a hopeful look in his eyes, and what is Anakin supposed to do? Say no?

“Are you up to date with your vaccines?” Obi-Wan asks, sitting at his desk, Anakin on sitting on the other side, answering all of Obi-Wan’s questions so the doctor can have a record of his medical history.

“Sure”

“As far as I know, yes.”

“Farms are dangerous places, you can get all kinds of infections. Your animals are also vaccinated?”

“Of course, they see the doctor more than I do.” Anakin tries to joke, but Obi-Wan purses his lips before a small smile appears on his face, “we are trying to fix that now, aren’t we?” Obi-Wan looks down over to the questionnaire on his hands, ticks something with his pen before he points to the next question. He looks up to Anakin before asking, “sexual partners in the last year?”

Anakin tries not to choke on his own breath, his heart accelerating on his chest. “No” he answers, and Obi-Wan looks mildly surprised, and oh coming out of his lips. And Anakin realises he had expected a number.

“Okay, I think that is everything for now.” The doctor mercily says, and Anakin lets out a sigh of relief. “You can sit on the stretcher now, I will check your vitals.”

Anakin obeys, and Obi-Wan puts a cuff around his arm and the metal part of his stethoscope under it. It goes too fast, Anakin focused on the way Obi-Wan’s arm flexes when he inflates the thing on his arm with the small ball, on the attentive look on his face as he listens to his pulse while looking at the numbers, on how close he is.

“Alright” Obi-Wan says all too soon. He takes everything off of Anakin and notes the numbers down on his clipboard. “I’d like to listen to your heart now.” He says, and stays seated in front of Anakin. None of them move for a few seconds, until Obi-Wan adds “I’d be easier if you took your shirt off.”

“Right”

“Unless you are not comfortable, I can do it with it on if you prefer.”

“No, no, it’s alright.” Anakin rushes to take his shirt off, because Obi-Wan is being so nice to him, and he doesn’t want to make his job harder. He just had imagined that if he ever got the chance to be shirtless in front of Obi-Wan it would be in a very different context.

Anakin takes a sharp breath when the cold metal circle touches his skin, and Obi-Wan takes it away immediately.

“Sorry, it’s very cold.” He brings it up to his face and exhales on it before he puts it against his own arm while Anakin watches him mesmerized. “I should have warned you, I think it will be a bit better now.”

He puts it back against Anakin’s chest and it’s better now, and Anakin feels a bit out of his body because Obi-Wan is standing right next to him and he puts his other hand on Anakin’s naked back. The skin to skin contact makes Anakin straighten his back against the hand, and there is just no way Obi-Wan didn’t hear his heart jump.

“Your heart rate is a bit too fast.” Obi-Wan says, and Anakin is sure he will not set foot on the town, much less near the clinic, in the next few months. “Do hospitals make you nervous? It’s alright, we will be done before you know it.”

Anakin doesn’t deny it, because the other option is confessing that he doesn’t get nervous in hospitals, only around hot doctors that treat him with care and have the most beautiful blue eyes he has ever seen. Obi-Wan moves the metal thing around, and then puts it on his back and tells Anakin to take deep breaths. When he leans around to Anakin’s back, Obi-Wan’s chest touches Anakin’s shoulder and arm. It’s an innocent touch, it shouldn’t mean anything, but Anakin’s breath catches. He had never been so close to Obi-Wan – except the time he almost passed out, but Anakin doesn’t remember that very clearly – and it’s doing something to him. He can feel his body heat, he can smell him. All too soon, as Obi-Wan had promised, he is done and pulling away. Putting the stethoscope around his neck and telling Anakin he can put his shirt back on.

“You seem very healthy.” Obi-Wan says, and Anakin knew that but he will admit he liked the check-up, even if only to get Obi-Wan so close to him that he could smell his soap. “but please, come visit me if anything happens, doesn’t matter how silly you think it may be.”

“I will” Anakin promises.

“And I’d like it if you brought your vaccine record, I’d like to check for myself that everything is in order.”

“I will ask my mother to send it to me and I’ll bring it.” And then he will have an excuse to talk to the doctor again. Maybe worrying about his health is not that bad.

“That will be fantastic. Now I’m sure you had a lot of things to do that I kept you from.” Obi-Wan says while walking him to the door. That means Anakin has to go, and he is not very happy to, he finds.

“Thank you” he remembers to say before he leaves.

“There’s no problem, please, come visit me whenever you like.” Obi-Wan says with a smile before he closes the door.

Anakin stays there, staring at the door, before he turns to continue his way to the store. He puts his hands on his face and groans because he is a fool. A fool in love.

[granulesofsand]

🗝️🏷️ Fakeclaiming? Ourselves? And unfakeclaiming ourselves. And bickering. We’re very good at bickering. Color-coded for readability. Basically a vent with themes of RAMCOA and mentions of radqueers.

(Start white) I find it ironic, how I’m willing to believe anything from RA to endos to radqueers. How I can believe them, but not us. It isn’t that I doubt these things exist, but that I doubt we exist. I’d rather our system called itself plural and never delved into the trauma. I can’t tell which of us is being unreasonable.

We have scars. I don’t recognize all of them, if that’s even what they are, but some of them I do. I see them white in the tan of the sun. Self-harm. They say they were taught, that the symbols have meaning. I don’t believe them. The ones I have no story for, they say they’re from torture. I don’t believe them. They weave tales of woods and men and blood. I don’t believe them.

The suspicion is hardly healthy. But I cannot prove they are speaking the truth. Why can’t we have just lived a normal life? Some emotional abuse, a spattering of violence and boundary violations. Why does it have to be extreme? I’d be willing to believe the smaller pieces first.

Our plurality doesn’t look like the DID systems we read about. Maybe we’re not DID at all. Just plural. Just daydreams and thoughtforms and confusing ourselves.

That preschool was somewhere to send us because our parents were religious. The overlap was coincidence, similar organizations in one place will do that — if there was overlap at all. I don’t know where they got the idea that barbecues turned into rituals, but maybe we read too much growing up. Those books were violent, trauma was a plot point.

I don’t remember… any of it, to be honest. But certainly not abuse like that.

Maybe the vacations were just that. Maybe the lost time was falling asleep, the new wounds from playing too rough. Our disabilities could be genetics.

Maybe none of us are real, and we just have ADHD. Losing track of time, forgetting, changes in interest and affect.

But what I really care about is the trauma. We need to stop telling people this happened when we can’t prove it. What’ll we do if we can prove it didn’t happen? We ran from people who loved us — poorly, but loved us. We’re on the verge of homelessness (more homeless than being in a shelter) in the heat of summer. I don’t think it happened. I think we got confused and wanted to put the puzzle together in a way it didn’t fit.

We didn’t need to do this. Nobody can prove we did. We left a good life behind because of several suspicions lined up. Pointless. (End white)

(Start pink) This is not the same guy as the other guy who does basically the exact same thing. They weren’t there and they don’t trust us to tell our story.

We’re not going to court, we’re not giving out names. Probably there are aspects of our narrative that are twisted or wrong — that’ll happen when thousands of people try to tell one body’s history. It’s okay. Not like we can go back, even if everyone who came forward was lying. If we go back and we’re wrong, our family is upset and confused and take sit out on us as per usual. They won’t take us back, and if they do, they’ve been lying about how this would go since we started asking (if we left and didn’t tell them). If we go back and we’re right, we die. Let’s not go back.

This is becoming an issue. We have different versions of what we went through, different people from different sections telling each bit, and none of us get along. We don’t start getting along like this.

Go to the library. Meet someone at the bar. Sail with the mail carriers to the far continent. Find a shared hobby, teach them a magic trick, gossip. Find someone to get to know. We shouldn’t have tried to bridge the gaps by sharing trauma. We can get to that. We’re not quite stable, but this is safer than we’ve ever been. Let’s put the history on the backburner for now.

Focus on finding a place, getting our life together. The system is there whenever, the trauma isn’t going away. Tone it down. There’s a section on that in ‘Safe Passage to Healing’, taking therapy in bouts. Community first, inside and out. Too much stress to do it all. (End pink)

(Start orange) Well, I agree with neither of you. Community is important, but we still need to care for those of us that are stuck in trauma loops or emerging with no one to listen. We need internal structure that isn’t trying to kill us. We agreed when we started this that we wouldn’t force each other to share. We did it anyway, look how that went. You two can go kiss in headspace working on outerworld stuff, but I’m busy here. (End orange)

(Start purple) We have a journal. Kind of. You know we kind of have a journal, right? And a therapist. I’m telling our therapist on you. (End purple)

[momo-wants-siesta]

SAMURAI OF HYUGA -BOOK 1- [REVIEW]

I did not originally intend to read this IF. But by popular demand I have been pressured to write this review.

Apparently it's the story of a "samurai" who lives on an island called "Hyuga" which is literally Japan, but I guess giving it a random Japanese name was cooler. More original.

This IF is divided into different books, and the adventures of this "samurai" and his companions will be told. Let's get down to business.

CHAPTER 1

Well. Let's see what this brutal interactive heart-pounding interactive tale is about.

The text of the Chapter 1 (Along with the Kanji) basically reveals to us that the author doesn't know Japanese and basically used a kanji dictionary.

As a tip, Japanese translation doesn't conserve plurals, So instead of "Sake with the Oyamas" it should be "Sake with the Oyama" and probably specificy it's a group or family. But I digress.

Steamed dumplings, nice. It's good that we start a japanese setting with a dish that is from Chinese origin (Nikuman in Japanese, Baozi in Chinese) and probably wasn't introduced until later.

I'm starting to have my doubts about the MC being a samurai, given how the dude seems to love to mix themselves with "Bakuto" people that were basically part of the modern "yakuza" today.

So for some reason we are stuck with a "spoiled kid"

Next scene. Someone getting close to a "samurai" and asking for a favor. Yeah, that was totally normal back then.

But it get's funnier when the title of the game is "samurai of Hyuga" but the two options are basically saying "I'm not a samurai". I don't understand what the author did there.

Okay. So this MC that has been living on the slums, suddenly know all about nobility and "royals". Its funny using "royals". It's good to know that the author doesn't seem to have studied Japanese history. Mostly how the correct term would either be "nobles" or "clanmen" or "imperials".

MC: *Says they are not a samurai* Random dude/woman: Master samuraaaai

I'm starting to feel like the author has been under the influence of sustances while writing this. Since the lack of consistency is apalling.

I don't want to make this review too long. But I really need to ask. Why two nobles are trying to make an alliance marriage, in a fucking Inn. And not in their houses. That doesn't make any sense. And then "let's ask this random no life to pose with us". I think that the author believe the Japanese to be stupid, or have watched too much mainstream brainless anime.

The "how the bride looks" options seems to have been written by the horniest individual to have ever existed for Google play standards of non lewdity.

I feel like I need to stop and point this. Why is the groom wearing a Kamon? Why do they need a samurai if they are samurai?

I think the author needs to understand what a samurai was. Because I think they are confused and believed all the nobility to be samurai. And that's a grave error. That's not how it worked. Nobility didn't need to be samurai. And some samurai weren't even nobility. Samurai was a social class on it's own.

I don't understand why they didn't ask the MC name. What kind of way to refer to someone is "Samurai-san" is like someone comes to you, if you are barista, even if you have your name in the tag, and go "Mister Bartender, nice to meet you".

Japanese are polite. They would ask the name. We entered full weebish anime paradise and we are only on chapter 1.

Not to say, this marriage would never happen, in those guys were not part of the nobility. Unlike in Europe were the burgesy could buy titles and marry into nobility, in Japan that was socially forbidden. And blood was really important, to the point of eugenics.

The day i find a "japan" IF that has been written by someone who did actual research instead of watching anime, will be the day I plant a tree or something.

But what is bothering me the most, is how the MC is all knowing. Not only we cannot decide on their personality (even tought there are a lot of useless stats) but the guy is basically a Gary Sue. He knows everything. He looks at you, and he knows your tragic backstory already. There's some fucked up powerfantasy there already. And it still kills me how I haven't been able to customize anything yet. I'm playing with a MC that I don't even know the game. Its fucking awesome. /s

I love how threating each other in the middle of an Inn it's great. Or how for some fucking reason, the author believe that your typical western bar fights would happen in Japan.

Fuck's sake. This author needs help. That our a japanese history book in the head, to gain some brain cells.

.......I'm going to kill someone.

So some guys appear with what I supposed it's irezumi, or the ancient version of it.

MC: they are not criminals.

Me: THEN WHAT THEY HAVE TATTOS.

Just you guys know, back in the day the "yakuza" didn't exist yet. And Irezumi exist, because back in that day criminals were tattoed, as a way to mark them. So irezumi started as a way to hide those markings.

Why would the author write something called "Samurai of Hyuga" which is clearly Japan themed, but then refuse to do even the most minimal research? I'm baffled.

So suddenly we are at "Yamato" but the game calls the place "Hyuga" then the MC goes I'm from "genfu". Someone seriously need to decide on a name, or make a fucking map.

Good Lord, this is hard.

"Wish I had an escort of Ninjas" yea because Shinobi totally escorted people. FUCK.

"That was low even for a shinobi". What the fuck is this. Shinobi were not considered dishonorable, basically because they didn't have to follow the bushido.

AUTHOR, IF YOU ARE READING THIS, ONLY THE SAMURAI WERE FORCED TO FOLLOW THE BUSHIDO. NO ONE ELSE.

Stop calling him samurai-san after hearing his fucking name. ITS FUCKING OFFENSIVE. WHY ARE YOU OFFENDING PEOPLE, TOSHIO.

Okay. I need to make this stop. So for fucking reason, to keep going I need to kill a Carp. Because fuck yeah. If I don't want to? I better quit the game.

It's good to know that the Author is complete psycho who is into stupid edgy protagonist.

Why is this even an IF? Where are the options? Why I'm still playing?

I'm gonna skip for a while to make a more compact review, because if I have to stop at every fucked up part...

So super random fight where we get more male powerfantasy. Then it's me or it's the Masashi kid a RO? Because that basically child that acts like a child. So now the author is a fucking pedo too? What's next? The guy is into lolis?

AAAAAAAND I CAN'T KEEP DOING THIS.

PRECOCIOUS FINAL TOUGHTS

How the fuck was I ever convinced to read this?

This is not even an IF. There's not even real choices. Like, the MC is totally 100% set on stone. And this is pure anime weebish trash.

This is one of the most questionable tales I read in a while. I don't event wanna now about the other ROs. This bad, this is horrible. This is something who jack up to lolis and decided to make a fucking work out of their personal waifu fantasies.

What the fuck is this. Seriously. The worse part is how people actually bought this, and how there are so many books. Unless it suddenly improves.

I been deeply disgusted and I don't even want to hear about this work ever again in my whole life.

[save-the-villainous-cat]

Hey, you're from Germany, right? Do you have any tips for writing a German character? Most specifically, a German character studying abroad, and another character placed in Germany working In a office.

Things like relationships (familial, platonic, and romantic), office culture, normal habits, and cultural shocks a German may have would be very appreciated!

Sorry if this ask is tiresome. Thank you so, so much! <3

As always, Germans are like other people. Different personalities, different opinions, different worldviews — every German is different. So, you have a lot of options to build your character with a unique character.

That being said…

Studying abroad/living in Germany

So…I assume studying in ’merica, aye? I have been there when I was a teeny tiny cat but I have also heard stuff from people who have studied abroad. And uhhhh Germans hate Americans lol (though this could also be a European thing, not a German thing).

We make fun of your school system a lot. I don’t wanna be mean but things like education, school safety, your food etc. are often victims of our dark humour. A friend of mine was studying abroad and the people could genuinely not tell what exactly Germany is. Is it a country? A continent? A city?

Adding to that, she was overwhelmed with things like “Do you know Hitler?” or “Are you a Nazi?”

Bro…we spend months and years learning in detail about our country’s history. We visit concentration camps. We watch movies from that time, analyse in detail how the people got manipulated. We read books the victims wrote. Germany still imprisons people who are a hundred years old. Germany is well aware of its past. It’s also aware that something like this cannot happen ever again.

Since that was a bit deep uhhhh let’s go over to food. I dunno about y’all but from what I’ve heard…you’re ordering food for dinner and eat it on paper plates…? Look that’s what I’ve heard and I gotta tell you that most Germans eat bread and Brötchen for dinner (though this is also changing, a lot of people are cooking warm meals for dinner nowadays).

And — can’t stress this enough — Germans love bread. When you go into a supermarket, the first thing you’re gonna see is a bakery.

And inside the supermarket is also a mini bakery.

We love it. Can’t really live without it.

Germans complain (at least here in the East). You go out with friends? Instantly complaining about your stupid neighbours. You go to the club? Instantly complain how lame it is. You went somewhere for a special occasion? Instantly talking about everything that went well and all the things you would’ve loved to be better.

Germans love football (soccer). Personally, I hate it more than anything. But Germans love it. It’s insane to me. They sit in the stadium and scream…definitely has something Romanesque to it.

I’d say most people have a rather difficult relationship with their parents. Generational trauma is a big thing. I mean, Germany being split and being reunited is a big part of my parents’ childhood. And since healthy communication wasn’t really a thing back then, most parents just don’t really know how to communicate with their children. So, I’d rather say it’s kinda messed up? Again, I can’t speak for everyone but that’s just what I’m getting from talking to my friends etc.

It’s not that they don’t love us, it’s just that they cannot always show it when we need it.

I believe it is best if you watch a few TikToks of people who aren’t from Germany experiencing Germany, they can definitely tell you about all the different things way better. For example this one is about “language,” cake, grocery stores, German windows lmao, and this German tiktok icon making fun of Americans.

I hope this is somewhat helpful? I’m not working in an office, so I can’t tell you much about that, unfortunately but maybe someone on Tiktok could help you with that. People documenting their life is a pretty good source of information. (Other than that do not trust TikTok ever!!!)

[ifuckingloveryoshu]

Hi I saw ur tags on my posts lol 🔥😭😭 thank you so much for liking my ryoshu and oc arts, but can I ask where did the name of yuzuki for ryoshu's daughter came from? I don't think hell screen mentioned her name?

Thank you for helping me get up this morning. Very short tldr but vauge answer: Hell Screen has been translated and adapted enough you could have read the a translation that keeps called Yoshihide's daughter, "Yoshihide's daughter"

If you read the Little Penguins Books Publishing, they did not use Yuzuki as the name from what I can see, but Yuzuki exist somewhere.

Lazily doing a half-baked investigation under read more.

I will never claim to know anything about translation and I had too little sleep to do things today. I'm also broke so I can't go cross refrence evey translation and adaptation of Hell Screen. I hope someone better than I can could look into this or help out. Ill come back to this maybe

This is absolutly not how you do research or go off of things but Penguin Publishing version reviews don't use the Yuzuki name so I'm thinking they don't use her name there. The Jay Rubin Translation doesn't use Yuzuki. I say that because I'm re-listening to this while cross refrencing a pdf I found. Im guessing their one in the same.

This archeologist/writer named matthewrettino uses Yuzuki when talking about Hell Screen

Haunted Places Ghost Stories did a reading on this and unrelated but they pronounce Monkehide how an american would so its, "MONKEY HIDE." But anyway, they use it. They just spell it liker Uzuki

Portrait of Hell or Jingokuhen make Yoshihide Korean, apparently. I wanted to put that here, it''s not really important, just an example of an adaptation changing something. You have a story for so long and things get changed.

It's part of human history and how we tell stories, we like adapting things and giving thigs new meaning just like Ryoshu. She's not named Yoshihide but we're all thinking, "Yeah, she's Yoshihide, she likes art, she has fire, shes sadistic, that's Yoshihide." But she's not an old man, Yoshihide never spoke in acronyms, Yoshihide's not a woman. Jesus Christ was never white. He was born in Jerusulm in a dessert, it would be strange if he was white. Most people living in the middle east and closer to the sun normally have darker skin because they have more melanin in their skin to protect from the sun. The image has been passed around so much that, at least in our Eurocentric culture, I can't find the word for it, Jesus is commonly depicted as white. Yuzuki could have never had the name in the original language, or the inverse, she could have had a name but time let it go through the skin of its fingers and it was lost to oblivion. We just need to rediscover where it's orgin came from.

Meme - A unit of cultural information, such as a cultural practice or idea, that is transmitted verbally or by repeated action from one mind to another

The name Yuzuki might as well be a meme. If it wasn't in the orginal version of Hell Screen, it just exist now. That's why people are like, "Yuzuki, that's the name of Yoshihide's daughter. That sounds right!" Because idea's spread from text, imagry, music notes, whatever you have come to life like a spark of flame from a lighter and drift off from its starting point. The co2 particles relase into the air and up to the clouds, and when enough people emmit co2 at a rate thats unsustantable for our planet, big things happen. Really big things happen. Or you just scream so loud that no one hears you and much like the effects of smoking, damage your lungs.

I hope it doesn't feel like I'm pulling stuff out of my ass. I'll come back to this and when I have a solid answer, i'll tell you or reblog this. No worries.

[jackstheprinceofhearts]

spoiler-free review on the stolen heir from an ex cardan greenbriar simp

here is photo evidence of me being cringe

alright so I have proven my ex-simp history now we can continue.

alright so first of all, let's talk about what I liked:

I thought the characters were funny, the art on the pages was gorgeous, the hardcover itself was amazing, and I really liked suren and oak as characters!

I also really liked the magic and all that and found it really interesting. I'll talk about the magic again later in the review some more)

I also thought it was just a fun book in general so I rated it 5/5 ⭐. now I do have to say it had no plot and normally I dislike that BUT if the characters are good then I can really enjoy the plotless vibes sometimes but some people just aren't the same like that. but overall I think holly did a pretty good job at making a fun book!

now, for the stuff i didn't like.... I have a few things to go over:

for me, I found the book pretty hard to follow, especially around the end... I was just so confused and maybe I'm just dumb??? but I found it to be really confusing at times.

also, I was pretty disappointed when we were told by holly that we would be getting jude and cardan "crumbs"??? like if you've read it you would know that there is barely anything, they were mentioned a few times and I get that it's oak and suren's story but I really did expect to at least like have them described or see them at some point even just one scene because she kind of made it seem like that.

like yes, there were some but when you hear that you expect there to be like scenes with them you know?? like by crumbs I thought she meant there would be like more of them in it than what we got. so I feel like a few people were just a little disappointed is all.

the next point I have is that all of the character development was at the end!!! like come on bro could we at least have had some foreshadowing or build-up or just SOMETHING to indicate what would happen?? I feel like we needed more build-up instead of just getting this ending for shock value and I was just so confused that I had to ask a few people what happened 💀 because it really just came out of nowhere and not like a "woah that plot twist was so good" like I guessed the twist but how the characters acted is what came out of nowhere but yeah I still liked the ending but it really made no sense.

also the middle of the book?? I remember very little from that because it just felt like the beginning had a lot, the end had a lot, but the middle and a lot of parts I just kind of really forgettable and I'm not saying the story is like bad because of that but I just found it hard to remember stuff but I did read it pretty fast so idk maybe if someone read it a bit slower than I did they may have remembered more but I usually remember a lot.

I also just wish some things were explained MORE. I don't mind when it's left for you to figure out sometimes but honestly, I just felt like we weren't getting AS MUCH as we could be getting, like if suren's abilities had been used a bit more or if we had seen more of what oak could do I think that could've made the story a lot more interesting. and I know yes, yes there's a second book, and oak is supposed to have this air of mystery around him and what not but with duologies, each book has to be able to stand on its own a bit more so I just wish we could've explored the magic just a little bit more

but yeah there is my spoiler-free review of the stolen heir and my thoughts on it LMAO I hope you guys enjoyed this very long review and also if you guys want me to give my thoughts on more books or start posting more about different books then please let me know. (ofc I will still be posting about ouabh & caraval, but I just wanted to make some posts on the stolen heir and share my thoughts since it is currently what everyone is talking about.) love u guys thank you for reading!!!

[gclionessa1230]

snippet for a fic

Just seeing what kind of response i might get from this one.. but read it and let me know your thoughts on this.. came from a chat idea i had.. don't know how well it'll work but we'll see..

April 4207: Stasis pod entry:

It was a somber day on ThunDera when it came time for everyone to enter the stasis pods. Claud-Us and Liana were worried for their two children but knew that things would change dramatically once the kittens came out of the pods whenever it was safe enough. The Horde was advancing on the planet and there wasn’t much time to save the people even though the Mutants, Lunatacs and Boktorians were doing what they could to help.

Two days later found the entire population of ThunDera in the pods below the planet’s surface as the Horde destroyed everything that was left above. Three or four families were safe on Boktor and thanks to an advanced system in place, were able to keep an eye on the pods from a distance as a radiation storm was raging on ThunDera and no one knew when it would be over. However, a complication arose after about fifty or so years.

“We’ve lost a few of the pods in some of the more remote areas of the planet but there’s still no way to get there to find out what has happened as the storm’s still raging,” one Thunderian told Belgarath, a Boktorian sorcerer who was near eighty in years but would live much longer, thanks to being what he was.

“I heard about it and both PlunDarr and the Moons are monitoring it as well. Hopefully we can get someone there to check things a little bit closer,” he said. “How many do you think you lost?” he asked. The male serval sighed.

“Maybe a hundred in one of the outlying villages as it wsan’t close to where the power source for the pods were as it’s likely that quakes destroyed the pipes or something else happened,” the serval replied. “I’m leaving a detailed report here as we won’t be alive when those in the pods are awakened later.”

.::~*~::.

Fifty years later: 4307:

News came to Boktor of the radiation storms dissipating and clearing which was encouraging news and it allowed two Boktorian ships to land on the planet’s surface and descend below into the caverns where the pods resided. By now it was another Thunderian in charge of everything and he had the reports that had been left to him plus Belgarath was there to offer assistance along with Beldin, his brother and another sorcerer.

“It will be another hundred or so years before we can wake everyone up safely as the radiation levels are still high,” Belgarath told the Thunderian who sighed. “But from what we’ve seen so far, most of the pods are fine and the occupants are sleeping peacefully.” The Thunderian paused at one of the chambers and entered it as Belgarath followed him. Inside this one were the pods of the royal family: Claud-Us, Liana and their twin children: Lioness-A and Lion-O were here along with Lord Jaga and a few other Thundercats including Jaga’s son Jaguarus. A panel on the wall by the door showed that the pods were functioning as normally which was good news and the occupants were sleeping peacefully. None of those within the pods had aged at all and that was a testament to the technology surrounding the pods.

“These children will have no idea of what happened to cause them to be in these pods for so long,” the Thunderian said with a sigh. “Though we are updating the history, it will be some time before they learn of what sent them here and why they were sheltered for so long.”

“There’s also the matter of the prophecy uniting this one,” Belgarath said indicating Lion-O’s pod, “with a woman that’s not of our timeline at all but is from a world in the far distant past.”

“Does it say anything of the Horde returning or have we seen the end of that?” the Thunderian asked. Belgarath frowned.

“That was an unknown in this and we’re still trying to decipher the texts it’s in. Someone from your world will have to be trained to read the ancient texts in addition to the Book of Omens itself,” Belgarath replied.

“Queen Liana was trained in that and she was also training her daughter in the teachings before they had to enter the pods,” the Thunderian replied. “I am hopeful they will continue this once they come out of the pods.”

“I’ll be sure to advise them of it,” Belgarath assured him. “I’ll be around along with Beldin and we will be assisting them when they wake up.”

Exit from stasis: April 4407:

The time soon came on the Thunderians to exit the stasis pods and the Boktorians were there to help along with the Thunderian scientist who was able to update King Claud-Us of what had transpired.

“Two hundred years?” Claud-Us demanded when he heard the news. Jaga was with him and frowned at this news as well.

“It took that long before the radiation dissipated completely,” Belgarath told him. “We wanted to be sure the levels were gone before we woke you from the stasis pods.” He frowned. “Now in regards to the events that sent you into the pods itself, the Horde has shown no signs of attacking another world and I am suspecting that things there are in disarray and have been since they first attacked here. The Plundarrians and Lunatacs are checking into that now and one of their current leaders may be in contact with you on it.”

“Thank you,” Claud-Us said.

.::~*~::.

Five months later:

ThunDera had exploded thanks to earthquakes tearing it apart and a small team of Thundercats fled and landed on Third Earth for a brief time. Lion-O had been nearly grown by the time they’d landed and had taken the trials at the age of twenty but he was missing his sister, who’d been training to learn how to read the ancient texts. Claud-Us had remained behind in the destruction and no one knew if he was alive or not and the same was said of Liana though she’d been with Lioness-A.

However, along about August of 4455, the Thundercats learned of New ThunDera when the planet reformed and Lion-O fought with Mumm-Ra and won that battle though he’d been injured in the process. The Mutants and Lunatacs were still allies of the Thunderians and that had helped greatly. And along about March of 4456, Lioness-A and Lion-O were reunited when she arrived and went through a set of trials to become a Thundercat. That had been one reunion well worth the wait. When asked about their mother, Lioness-A had said that Liana had lived but where she was now, no one knew as she’d disappeared not long after Lioness-A had grown up. The two lions began to work together and Lion-O was surprised when his sister formed a relationship with Tygra but he was happy with how things were going. The relationship he had started with Cheetara had ended not long ago as she was now with Sindaris, a saber Thundercat.

[ausetkmt]

The Christian Science Monitor: What civil rights leaders could teach the military about strategy

What the military could learn from the civil rights movement

By Anna Mulrine Grobe Contributor

@annamulrine

October 5, 2022

A two-time Pulitzer Prize winner and veteran defense correspondent whose bestsellers have chronicled U.S. wars, Thomas E. Ricks was drawn to study the civil rights movement through the war stories of his wife, Mary Kay Ricks.

“We’d be driving along, listening to NPR talking about civil rights, and she’d say, ‘Oh, I knew that guy.’” She was co-president of her Washington, D.C., high school’s chapter of the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee.

“I was reading about it partly trying to understand my wife’s experience, things she said to me over 30 years of marriage,” Mr. Ricks says.

WHY WE WROTE THIS

COOPERATION

The campaigns that civil rights leaders waged were as carefully strategized as military operations. They developed a plan not only for protests, but also for reconciliation.

The more he researched, “the more I thought, ‘This is a generation of heroes – this is the greatest generation.’”

He also found himself thinking, “Wait a second – this was a war. I know how to write about this.”

Out this week, Mr. Ricks’ new book, “Waging a Good War: A Military History of the Civil Rights Movement, 1954-1968,” explores the strategies and tactics of the leaders and foot soldiers in the fight for Black equality.

“Everybody knows what the civil rights movement did,” he says. “But what struck my eye as a military reporter is understanding how it happened.”

As assisted dying broadens, countries wrestle with new ethical lines

And that, he adds, was writerly inspiration. “With Iraq, I kind of had to force myself to get to the desk. Here, every morning, it was like a magnet pulling me in.” He spoke with the Monitor from his home in Austin, Texas.

Thomas E. Ricks is the author of "Waging a Good War: A Military History of the Civil Rights Movement, 1954-1968."

So how did the civil rights movement make use of the kind of strategy we’d normally associate with the military?

One of the things that fascinated me was the preparation that went into anything publicly visible. Demonstrations, boycotts, strikes would be preceded by days, weeks, months, and in a couple of cases, years of strategizing: What are we trying to do? How are we going to do it? How do we recruit the right people for this? How do we train those people?

The role-playing they did, for example, to protest a segregated lunch counter: Some activists played sit-in demonstrators and others played the white mob attacking them – pouring coffee and ketchup on them, slugging them.

One of the things it prepared activists for was how to deal with the fight-or-flight impulse – to sit there and not move, to deal with it in a way that surprised, even flummoxed, the attackers.

I love that one of the things they taught was if somebody spits on you, ask for their handkerchief. It just gave people pause.

You point out that this military-style organization extended to marches, too. How did that work?

Marches were organized by block, and that in military terms first of all meant cohesion: You knew these people on your left and right. You were surrounded by familiar faces, and that really helped in times of attack or danger. The second thing it does is to deter infiltrators or provocateurs.

But in order to have people march block by block you had to say, “Who will be there? Who’s going to get them out to march? What do they need?”

So part of the civil rights movement was making sure there were babysitters. And people are going to be hungry when they come back, so let’s have people cooking food in the church. That also gave people who couldn’t march or wouldn’t march or were afraid to march or were too frail to march, that gave them roles. They could babysit; they could be cooking food; they could be monitors along the parade route, watching and taking notes in case you needed witnesses in court.

"Waging a Good War: A Military History of the Civil Rights Movement, 1954-1968," by Thomas E. Ricks; Farrar, Straus and Giroux; 448 pp.

You talk about strategic and tactical innovation as well. What are some examples?

One of the things that struck me, that the U.S. military doesn’t do, is that every march had a message. Remember, a lot of these people are ministers, and for them the march was “the Word made flesh.” The march should somehow convey a concrete message sent.

In Selma, [Alabama], one of the things the white power structure said was that Black people are too ignorant to march. In response, the Black people of Selma marched carrying their toothbrushes. The message is, “I’m willing to go to jail.”

There’s also tactical innovation. When they couldn’t get the adults in Birmingham, [Alabama], to march in spring of ’63 – because they knew they were living under a near-totalitarian structure, and they would lose their jobs and be beaten and jailed and so on – [minister and civil rights leader] James Bevel went out and recruited students to march. Not just high school students, but kids as young as 8.

The purpose of this was first to get people on the streets. Second, he recruited so many students he was able to swamp the Birmingham jails. So [Eugene] “Bull” Connor, the police chief, says, “I can’t arrest any more of these kids – I have thousands of them in jail. I’m going to bring out the police dogs and fire hoses.”

What Bevel does is show America that the white power structure is so insistent on preserving this racist system they will do this to children – these fire hoses are so powerful they’d knock the bark off a tree. And it shocked the country.

It was a risky move. [The Rev. Martin Luther] King wasn’t sure he was for it. King and Bevel actually have a confrontation about this. King says, “They’re children.” And Bevel says, “They’re believers. They go to church. I’ve taught them nonviolence. If they can be members of the church, they can march.”

You write given that the civil rights movement relied heavily on nonviolence, it might be jarring to think of it in military terms – but did Black leaders often invoke this analogy?

This is actually one of the themes of the book – that nonviolent resistance is not passive resistance. It’s confrontational resistance. It’s aggressive. It’s saying, “Anytime we get attacked, we respond – but we respond in our own fashion.”

Nonviolent philosophy emphasizes the importance of reconciliation. What do you think the civil rights movement could teach the U.S. military about this?

One thing that I think the movement was better at than the U.S. military is reconciliation – what the military would call Phase 4, or the endgame.

After the Montgomery, [Alabama], bus boycott [having won their yearlong fight to desegregate], Black organizers assigned two ministers to ride each line during rush hour to monitor the behavior of their own people. [Dr. King instructed his victorious followers to resume riding the buses with courtesy, Mr. Rick writes, and advised anyone who couldn’t quite do that to “walk for another week or two.”] It’s teaching not only the other side, but your side how to live under the changed circumstances.

In Birmingham, a bitterly divided city – really the Gettysburg of the civil rights movement in 1953, 100 years after Gettysburg – it was all about the endgame from the beginning.

One of the things Black activists did, when they won an agreement to integrate segregated restaurants, would be to call ahead to the restaurant and say, “We’re thinking of coming in for a meal tomorrow. What time would be convenient for you?”

This did a couple of things: It was in simple human terms polite – why cause trouble for people? It was also a way of saying, “We’re coming in. This isn’t theoretical. This is really going to happen.”

What that also did was train the white population to live with integration. Think of the brilliance of that: The last phase of your operation is to train the opposition.

It’s not going to be everybody embracing each other, but it’s seeking a form of human reconciliation: “We are trying to find a way we can live together in a different way – and we will work to make that happen.”

How did you feel about being a white historian writing the story of a movement of predominantly Black civil rights leaders – did anything about that give you pause?

That’s a good question, and one I mulled as I researched and wrote this book. The obvious answer is that the civil rights movement brought about one of the most important social revolutions in American history, and so should be of interest to all Americans.

I think that looking at the movement through this military lens underscores how much work and courage went into [it], and how much it achieved. I think many readers will be both inspired and moved by the stories about people like Diane Nash, Rev. Fred Shuttlesworth, Septima Clark, Amzie Moore, and others.

al lines

[ori-trolls]

An Unusual Customer - A "Thinking of you" drabble (Herous <> Devrin)

It was another boring day at the bookstore.

The dingy little shop didn’t usually see high amounts of traffic outside the holiday seasons when people would trickle in looking for gifts, so Herous was posted behind the register, reading a book on legends and fables. They weren’t his favorite way of recording history, as the fantastical tales were often clouded with lies and deception, but they were a very good way to learn what past civilizations believed in and how they saw the world. Herous wanted to understand them.

The small bell on top of the door rang as someone opened the door. Herous looked up briefly to see if it was his coworker trying to sneak out again, but found an unknown face instead. The troll’s hair covered their left eye and there was a tuft of beard on their chin. Herous also noticed the scars littering their face and ears, but paid them no mind. What caught his attention was the bag slung across their body, which could be used to steal the books. He wasn’t gonna risk his life about it unfortunately though, so nothing he could do about it.

Given that most trolls preferred not to be bothered and most only browsed without buying anything, Herous went back to his reading. To his surprise, this one client wasn’t like most trolls. They stopped in front of the counter and cleared their throat slightly, almost like they didn’t want to do it.

Herous looked up at them and put on his best smile, which wasn’t much. He wasn’t someone who smiled often.

“Fantasy books are on that wall and romance books are right on the next shelf. Self-help and business books are at the back. Were you looking for anything in particular?” He recited the well-practiced spiel that never failed, after all those were their best sold genres.

“Oh…” The stranger huffed out a laugh and smiled. “I’m… not looking for any of that.”

Herous couldn’t help the rise of his eyebrow, certainly intrigued with this troll who refused to behave like a normal customer. To be honest, he should be wanting more enrichment in his life, but he didn’t like change very much, thank you.

“In that case, how may I help you?” He rephrased the question.

“Do you… happen to have any books… on local history and geography?” They spoke like they were weighing the value of each word, and avoided looking Herous in the eye, but that didn’t matter. Herous immediately lit up like a light-bulb.

He coughed into his fist and forced himself into a professional stance, however.

“Yes, of course, over here.” He left the counter, which didn’t happen often, if ever, and guided the customer towards a smaller section of the bookstore. “We don’t sell them much, so our collection is small, but we do have a warehouse to store unsold books and can request to have them brought here if you’re looking for something specific.

“These books here are on history, these ones are on geography. The history books are ordered according to topic rather than area, like the geography ones. I personally recommend these volumes,” he said as he pointed to some of the books, “they’re very good reads if I do say so myself.”

He looked at the troll, almost like expecting some sort of approval. They huffed out a laugh and Herous suddenly worried that he was being too enthusiastic or overstepping a boundary. He blushed profusely and took a step back.

“Right, in any case, let me know if you need help.” 

Without even waiting for a reply, he turned around and left back to the register, where he buried his face behind a book.

You’re so embarrassing, he thought, suppressing a groan so as to not further embarrass himself.

Eventually, he was able to go back to his book, until the customer returned with a couple of books in his hands. Herous started the checkout process, making an effort not to look them in the face.

“Would that be all?” He asked, as was customary.

“Actually…” The troll spoke, and this time Herous had to look. “I was wondering… if you had anything… on local flora and fauna.”

And just, who was this person who seemed so interested in things that actually mattered? Herous couldn’t help but feel curious.

“Uhm, not currently in store, but I know we have some on our catalog, if you-” he scrambled for their client registry and a pen. “If you want, you can leave us your contact information and I can inform you when it’s arrived, Mr…?” He added, hoping to finally put a name to such an interesting person.

“Devrin…” They smiled. “Just Devrin is fine… And yes, I’d like that, Mr…?” They grabbed the pen and wrote their contact information while waiting for an answer.

“Herous, just Herous… is fine.” He nodded, finishing the checkout and handing Devrin their bag with books. “Thank you for your purchase.”

“Thank you.” Devrin grabbed the bag and nodded. “I’ll be waiting… for your message.”

They left, and Herous was left feeling a little too conscious of himself.

[ellas-journey]

🌸 Presentation🌸

   Hi! My name is Ella. I’m your local nerd that likes to yell at people about how historical accurate an anime is. But for real I like to merge my two-sided love for the Japanese culture, let me explain.    (Be prepared for the long af back story)    It all started when I was a kid, and I couldn’t get enough of the pretty cartoons that I was seeing on television. Latter I would find out that they were called anime, and, after getting sick of always watching the same episodes over and over again I would find out that I could watch the episodes that did not air on TV on a magic website called Youtube (on a different language, divided on like 10 parts: and this is how you find out how old I am). Thanks to this I will go on to draw this random anime characters during classes and after classes (every hour I as awake really) and watching everything I could (Back in the times where people would make fun of you).    I did choose to pursue an art education. Now, this is where this start to go downhill. My drawing teacher in high school hated anime with a living passion. “It is not art” she said (I would love to go to her and spill some facts to her now). So, she forbids us to draw anime. My love for Japanese culture started to fade (momentarily replaced by Korean culture but let's ignore that little fact for now). I when on to a Fine Arts university, and that's when I found out that some teachers did not mind anime at all. They said “if it’s your thing, it is, but make it even yours” still I’m still healing on the drawing department so let’s move on to the history side of the story.    I had a lot of art history curses, including an one full year dedicated only to Portuguese art. Now if you know Portugal was an empire, were cultures got mixed (this is still a heated thing, so let’s more on) but not once did I hear about that. Hybridism. A simple word, and I would be the one founding out by myself because it was triggering me that we only talked about mainland Portugal (that was boring let me tell you) and not once about what happen overseas. One day I had to do a paper about a piece that was from a Portuguese museum, and that’s where I found the thing that would change me: a beautiful Namban screen. What is Namban? Well, Namban art is the art that was produced when the Portuguese were in Japan.     U read right. The Portuguese were in Japan.    I made that my whole personality. I started to regain my love for Japanese culture again but with an even bigger burning passion. When on to study Japanese history (and I’m trying the Japanese language but God its hard) and did my master’s thesis about that. (Yes, I have a masters I read actual books I'm not going Wikipedia, only sometimes)    But there was a moment where I thought that maybe I didn’t know enough to do that. But then I watched Demon Slayer. And on episode 4 when Tanjiro goes to the selection, and the hand Oni ask “What year of the Meiji era are we” and Tanjiro answers “Meiji? We are already on the Taisho...?”. And then I went to the internet and found people confused about the year in which Demon Slayer takes place, cause Tanjiro comes from a village in the middle of nowhere were it looks like ancient Japan and then suddenly you have card and electricity in Yokohama. I realized that maybe, without knowing I started get the Japanese references that would not be easy for a common western viewer. And I realize that I still had lot to learn.    And like a normal person that is totally in a mentally stable place (did you get the sarcasm?), I decided to hyperfocus on studying all the history and culture behind Demon Slayer. Mostly for myself, but also to all of those that are also curious and want to learn more.  So, this takes us to today, were I finally decided to take this project from my brain-attic and show to the world all the amazing historical references that demon slayer have in the hopes to share all that I learn with Tanjiro & co. 

[bittersweetarts]

Little Lamb - Aemond Targaryen x Reader (Chapter 5)

Aemond Targaryen x You –  Chapter 1 , Chapter 2, Chapter 3 , Chapter 4

Word count: 3370 word

Summary: As a maiden of a noble house, it is your duty to wed well. But how will you manage to, with a curious and possessive Prince in the picture?

WARNINGS: Angst, misogynistic behaviour (quite sexist), minor violence, dubious consent

Spotify Playlist – AO3 Page

Chapter 5: Family Line

Lord Larys does not try to speak to you again in the days following, but you cannot help but always feel eyes watching you. Unfortunately, you could not be certain that it was only him observing you, as you knew that if he suspected your private dealings, others inevitably did as well. This made you feel nervous, but not nervous enough to stop allowing Prince Aemond visit your chambers to sleep.

Unexpectedly, the Prince slipped into your room the next evening, and you accepted this without protest. Previously, you drank yourself into oblivion during the evenings, but with the Prince there, you did not feel the need to. Though his presence was threatening, by having him there, you felt sure he would not kill Jayse, as long as you appeased him. Hence, the two of you had a quiet understanding, and honestly, it was one which you did not mind.

Surprisingly, Aemond did not bother you in the evenings, letting you get on with mundane personal dealings, such as cleaning and writing to letters to your parents and siblings.

Also, with him there, you were finally able to continue doing something you enjoyed: reading. At first, the one-eyed Prince would watch as you read, which you found distracting, so you proceeded to pull a random book from your well-stocked shelf, in the hope that he would keep himself busy. Instead, he proceeded to retort that he had read it. So, you picked another, and the same occurred. And then again.

“From where did you think these books came from?”

This surprised you, causing you to blush, and the next evening, the Prince had brought his own. It was a philosophical book written by an Archmaester Rigney, someone you were unfamiliar with, and when you curiously asked about its contents, the Prince got adorably excited.

“I have just started studying it, and there is a proposal I find acutely true.” Pulling you onto his lap, he opened the book towards the beginning, flipping through until he found what he was looking for.

“Yes, here it is… ‘history is a wheel, for the nature of man is fundamentally unchanging. What has happened before will perforce happen again.’ It reminds me that we cannot remain complacent, because war is never truly over. Peace never lasts.”

Brushing his loose hair, you smile at him. “Well, I hope it does last. Peace, I mean.”

In a way, you have come to enjoy having the Prince in your company. But most of all, you appreciated how you managed to sleep soundly. You did not wake exhausted anymore, and though a man, he never pushed for anything more. You knew it would not last, but you convince yourself that once you know that Jayse has healed and left King’s Landing, you will put an end to this. Your reputation may be soiled, but you will protect your chastity. No future husband will be able to discount you on account of that, for it would not be a lie.

While your nights have changed with the roguish Prince’s presence in it, your days proceed as they normally do, quickly, as you become consumed with your duties.

Breakfast had unsurprisingly become an awkward ordeal for you, as you actively avoided making eye contact with your Prince, feeling both bashful and humiliated to be near him so soon after sharing a bed. You also felt guilty, as you knew that you were deceiving people who have been so kind to you, particularly the Queens. Unlike you, the wayward Prince found this all very amusing, often making commentary referencing your shared evenings, much to the confusion of his family, apart from King Aegon, who you suspected knew about your illicit affair, based on his returned jovial interactions with Prince Aemond. You could not help but suspect that perhaps, the wayward Prince has started confiding in him about something, if not about you, as you started to see the King Aegon lively for the first time since stepping foot into King’s Landing.

You also noticed a new worrying glint in the Queen Alicent’s eye. It would not surprise you if she knew, for she is the Queen Mother after all, but if she did, she had bestowed another kindness onto you, by ignoring it and allowing you to continue serving her.

Now, you found yourself often mute during breakfast (as well as other meals), chiming into conversation only when necessary. Fortuitously, Queen Helaena had become particularly consumed by her dreams as of late and ensured that everyone else had become intimately acquainted with them as well.

“Please tell our carers to remove strangler figs from the Gardens. I have seen how the trees they choke are never the same.” In response, you would grasp her hand gently and respond that there were no strangler figs on the castle ground, and Helaena would nod, only to request the same only a few hours later.

You knew that people at court mocked the Queen Helaena for her aloofness, especially when she was younger, and this made you angry. You found the young Queen wise beyond her years and of a strong character, for you knew some about the frightening things of her past.

The story of two assassins torturing and almost murdering her and her children was spread wide throughout the Kingdom during the war, and it was an important reason why many noble houses abandoned their support Rhaenyra Targaryen’s claim. Though the stories varied, it was wildly accepted that murder of servants, rape and mutilation was involved, and that sweet Helaena and her babes only survived due to Ser Criston Cole’s surprising visit to the Queen Alicent’s chambers that evening, a stroke of fortune. The outrage that spread throughout the lands after this story came to light is impossible to describe, for Queen Helaena, known as ‘the Innocent Targaryen’ in addition to the torture and attempted murder of three children was viewed as an unforgivable sin, especially when instructed by a woman. This is a subject you would never raise, but you did know that the children had scars that they should not, and days where Queen Helaena was confined to her chambers happened occurred more frequently than they should.

And so, your days pass and you never find yourself lacking, that is, until the months pass, and you fail to receive a single letter or correspondence from your family. You always felt like the black sheep, isolated, and you never did get too many letters from them. But since your last, where you informed them about your embarrassing failure at securing a marriage with Jayse Wylde, you have heard nothing back. They are your family though, and you thought perhaps your letter had gotten lost, so you wrote another. And then another. But still, you heard nothing. By this point, not only were you desperate to hear from your parents and siblings, but you wanted to visit them as well. But how were you to do that? You could not even get a word from them.

The final straw came during a celebratory dinner held at the Keep’s Great Hall, when you greeted Lord Borros Baratheon.

As the Lord of Storm’s End, Lord Borros had been acquainted with your parents and by extension, knew of you (your family was too large so he inevitably always confused the children, especially the daughters).

An honoured nobleman, the Royal Family valued Lord Baratheon’s loyalty and support during the war, and he was always invited to visit King’s Landing, especially during celebrations. Some petty squable at Driftmark had been resolved and King Aegon had called for a celebration, which Lord Borros Baratheon happened to attend, as he was at the capitol for unrelated matters. It was here that he formally met you as Queen Helaena’s Lady-in-Waiting for the first time, and apologised for missing your elder brother, Dayron’s, wedding with the youngest daughter of the Lord of Castamere, an admirable alliance. Hearing this, your heart shattered.

Not only had you not been invited to the union, but now you realised that all of your letters had not been lost, but ignored, as you had written countless, addressing not only your parents, but your many siblings as well. The pain you felt knowing this was debilitating, and you tried your best to courteously excuse yourself from Lord Baratheon, before abruptly fleeing the event, to seek refuge in your chambers. All you felt like doing was crying, and you could not even get yourself to try and stay for the feast, even though you were expected to. However, as you left, no one stopped you.

Much later in the evening, past the witching hour, Prince Aemond clumsily stumbled into your chambers. As he entered, he found you sat by the window, with only a few candles lit to provide illumination. You did not greet him as you normally do when he entered, facing away from him to watch the view. If he was irritated by this, he did not show it.

As he approached you, his steps were louder than normal, and you felt a hand guide your chin away from the view of the city.

Now facing him, he observes you, and you see confusion in his features.

“You’ve been crying.”

“And you’ve been drinking.” You retort back, pulling away from him and looking back at the window. You did not want him to see you in this state, and you considered barring the door, but thought against it, as you also wanted to sleep and now could not without his presence.

Sighing, the drunk Prince sat next to you on the bench and gently grasped your cold hands.

“Am I going to have to murder Lord Baratheon?” He says seriously.

“What? No!” You respond, shocked, turning your eyes back at him while drawing back your hands. The fact that he even proposed this was abhorrent.

“What has he done?” The Prince’s eyebrows were furrowed, and his face looked deathly. You realised that he was not fooling around, but you also did not want to acknowledge what has been troubling you. The thought of it hurt too much, and you felt responsible for it. It was your fault after all, for failing to be a dutiful daughter. Either they got sick of you, or they caught wind of your indiscretions, and both were awful prospects.

“Nothing.” You respond, and stand up, turning your back to the Prince, while running your hands through your hair in distress. You really were upset, and you were aware that you were not hiding it very well. You then feel arms wrap around you, and lips press onto your shoulders, which were bare as you wore a sleeveless nightgown.

“Tell me what’s wrong.” You shake your head and try to pull away, but Aemond holds you steadfastly. He repeats himself, hugging you more tightly. “Tell me.”

“I can’t.”

Spinning you around, the Prince presses his fingers onto your waist, and speaks in a ruthless tone. “If you do not tell me, then I will assume that it was the gluttenous hog of a man who bears responsibility, and he will pay dearly for it.” Your eyes water as he speaks harshly, and sympathy consumes him immediately. “Please, just tell me, my love.” Again, you shake your head stubbornly, tears falling as you do.

“Fine.” The Prince suddenly becomes angry and pulls himself away from, striding towards the door. This scares you for a moment, as you know his reckoning, if successful, will not go unpunished. Lord Borros Baratheon is the leader of one of the most important houses in all of Westeros, and the Prince would be an intoxicated boy about to kill or grievously harm an influential man due to a misunderstanding, involving a girl that did not matter.

“Aemond, please, stop.” You hardly ever call the Prince by his first name, and when you, you never fail to capture his attention. The Prince stops, but does not turn, frozen in place, the anger literally seething out of him.

“You are going to think me half-witted and disgraceful.” You croak out through sobs. You must have sounded miserable, because when the Prince turned around, his anger dissipated and he embraced you gently, rubbing your back in comfort.

“I could never. In this room, there is only one who lacks wit at times, and it is not you.” Tilting your head up, he sensuously kisses you near your mouth, his breath reeking of the honeyed wine which you favoured, before continuing. “And it is only out of passion.” Though you stopped crying, you were still upset, though you tried to compose yourself.

“If I tell you, promise me you will not do anything rash.” You held his gaze, practically holding it hostage, and he nodded immediately, without second thought. Taking a deep breath, you speak swiftly, because you knew that if you would not, you would not speak at all.

“I am alone, completely alone now. Through Lord Baratheon I found out that not only was I not invited to my brother Dayron’s wedding, but that I am not even worth writing to. I write almost every single day to my parents, my siblings, and I do not hear a single word back. My family does not even think I am worthy of being acknowledged, of being loved, and it hurts. It hurts so much.” Your sobs return stronger than before, and you go completely hysterical, you cannot stop yourself from admitting more.

“I miss them every single moment every day. Every time I look at Jaehaerys, Jaehaera, and Maelor, I see my younger siblings, babes in my eyes, just like them. Did you know that they are practically the same age? The youngest three are triplets – Taliya, Liyana and Addysen – were born in the same year as Maelor, and I miss them so much, my heart aches for them so much!”

As you sob, Aemond comfortingly runs a hand through your hair repetitively, but you cannot stop. Instead, you lose your stability, and fall. The blonde Prince catches you before you reach the ground and holds onto you, effortlessly lifting you up and carrying you to your bed. You do not know for how long he comforts you, hugging you, rubbing your arms and kissing your head, but it feels never ending.

Until it doesn’t. Eventually you have no more tears, and your breathing evens. When it does, you feel void of emotions, a shell of who you are as a person. The Prince had not fallen asleep at any point, and continues watching you. You avoid his stare, opting to gape at the ceiling. The two of you sit there in silence, until he speaks.

“They do love you. Thinking otherwise is unfeasible.”

You want to ignore him, to say nothing, but you find it impossible.

“Then why won’t they even write back?” You voice broke as you spoke, and you could feel your emotions begin to suffocate you again.

You proceed to hug the Prince more tightly, perhaps you will be able to stuff your feelings back, and the Prince stares at you saddeningly. At this moment, he wished he did not take your leaving of the event so personally, by drinking so much. Because without second thought, he answered.

“They did write back.”

You wrinkled your forehead in confusion, and you pull back, letting him go. He still holds on to you though.

“What?”

You look up at the Prince, and see guilt briefly cross his features, before forcing his nonchalant expression. He ignored you this time, pressing his lips on your head, embracing you more tightly. This only serves to fuel your disordered state. You push out of his embrace and sit up, facing him.

“No, Aemond, stop this. What do you mean?”

Crossing his arms, the Prince responded, feigning innocence. “I do not understand.”

“No, do not do this to me. What do you mean, they wrote back?”

You felt crazed at that moment, staring at him. Because until now, you could not imagine, anyone else involved with your issue, until you realised that if there was someone that could stop your correspondences from being sent, it could most certainly be a Prince. The more you thought, the more sick you felt. Shaking your head, you started backing away, standing up from the bed, stepping away.

“No. No. Aemond, please, no.” As you began rambling, the one-eyed Prince stood up, chasing after you. He tried to grasp your arms and embrace you, but you shook yourself away, in anguish. Your tears came back, and you felt betrayed.

“No, Aemond! You have been here! You have seen me writing letters to my family almost every night for so many weeks now!”

The Prince did not respond, only trying to hold you, but you anger was too much. You could not even fathom his touch, let alone his embrace.

“Stop! Please just tell me, did you stop my letters from being sent?” Looking at you with sad eyes, the Prince shook his head in response, but you were livid, and you could not believe him.

“Do not lie to me! I’m stupid, I’m a stupid, stupid, girl.” You wrap your arms around yourself, feeling exhausted and cold. “I am so, so stupid.” As you repeat yourself, you start striking your head harshly. Only one blow lands before you feel your wrists restrained. You keep trying, but they remained locked in his hold. This time, when the Prince embraces you, you do not push him away, but just stand there, limp and lifeless, you arms now dead by your side.

“I did not stop your letters from being sent.” The Prince speaks, his voice riddled with guilt.

“So, so stupid.” You shake your head, shutting your eyes. You feel his rough hands cup your face, and when you open your eyes, you see his, looking at you worried. “I am not lying.”

“Just tell me the truth. Please, mock me no more.” You say coldly. Sighing, the Prince embraced you tighter, and answered.

“It was not your letters I stopped, but theirs.”

Your eyes widen at the admission, and you misunderstand him for a moment. With all your strength, you push yourself away and stare at him, letting the words sink in. You could never imagine Prince Aemond afraid, and you stare at him in disbelief, for he looked almost afraid, with his jaw clenched and violet eye wide in fear. If this was about anything else, you might have dissipated your anger, but you remain deathly silent, thinking until you fully understand.

The Prince had not stopped your letters, at least that is what he claims. The Prince did stop your parent’s letters. Your sibling’s letter. How many could that be? How many months has it been since you heard from them? Did he just dispose of the letters, or did he also read them? Did he know that you brother was getting wed? How often has he deceived you? He sat here, almost every evening, watching you write to your family, with a sad expression on your face, yet he then continued to have pleasant conversations with you, embrace you, kiss you, share a bed with you… You felt completely betrayed, violently ill, ready to implode. You despised him for his deception, and you despised yourself for being so trusting. It was you who put yourself in this position.

“Get out.” You say quietly, and for a moment, you think the Prince does not hear you. He does though and tries to step closer to you and raises a hand, almost as if you were a dragon that he is about to tame.

“Get out!” You shout over and over again, but he does not, instead approaching you. You begin thrashing, but he does not stop, managing to get a hold on you. When his arms wrap around you, you try to hit him, many times, but fail, as his hold stiffens. You continue until you tire yourself, your voice diminishing, your sobs become silent. You continue crying though, and Aemond continues holding you.

“I hate you.” You finally say, breaking your silence.

“I know.”

Author’s note: I have just finished watching the season finale and I am not okay... I may need time to recover from it, so please be patient with my next chapter, as I sit here grieving my heart out

Link to Chapter 6 

Tags: girl-obsessed-with-things 404slayer404 moonmaiden1996 rosaryos  roseanimelover jovialfanatic wishfulwithwine missusnora maat-the-prescriptive  @let-love-bleeds-red​

[x-reader-theater]

We know that Spencer wants kids like he says so in the serie so I was think a Spencer x male reader where the reader work at the bau with him and Spencer got a crush on him and one day the reader's kid come and the team met them and Spencer like '' you have a kid? '' and I don't know but I know that he will be such a good dad and a lot of fluff and sweet Spencer

I really hope you like this one! I always get really mad at the writers whenever they mention that Spencer can't have kinds but like, he can, just not biological ones. Like, he can adopt or find a partner that has a kid and he'll still be a great dad. I poured a lot of that frustration into making this as cute as possible. @mystic-writes edited this, as well as everything else that I write I just like @ing her every time loll. Also, I'm running out of gifsssssssss

"Hey, Spence!" you exclaim, sitting at the desk across from his.

His cheeks flare up red and he whispers, "Hey, [Y/N]."

You smile at him. "Have a good weekend?"

He nods. "Yeah, I watched a couple documentaries, read some new books I just got-"

"Oh!" you exclaim, making Spencer jump in his seat. You rummage around in your backpack before pulling out a book, and handing it to him. "I got you this. I don't know if you already have it, or have read it, but, I thought you might like it," you say, holding the book out to him.

He grabs it and reads the title. “Timechart History of the World: 6000 Years of World History Unfolding.” It's a thick book, with more than 500 pages at least, and a smile lights up Spencer's face.

"Where did you find this?" he asks and you shrug.

"Got an ad for something similar online, but it didn't look too credible. So, I did some digging, and found this," you say, gesturing to the book in Spencer's hands.

He grins at you and says, "Thank you, so much! I-I'm sorry I don't have anything for you…"

You wave him off, saying, "Really, it's no big deal. It's a gift." He nods, but doesn't seem convinced until you say, "Happy Birthday, Spencer."

You were the only one who remembered.

–

"Hotch, I really need to talk to you," you say, gripping your son's hand tightly, but not enough to hurt. Looking from your son to you, he nods and motions for you to follow him into his office, where he closes the door and shuts the blinds. He sits down in his chair and you motion for Harry to sit on the couch, pulling out a children's book for him to read while you talk with Hotch.

"Who's this?" he asks and you smile as you sit down.

"My son, Harrison. Most people just call him Harry," you explain and Hotch nods, but doesn't speak. "I'm so sorry to have to ask this, but Harry's school has a day off and he's too young to stay at home alone, and his normal sitter works during the day and I don't have family out here and I don't trust another sitter and-"

"[L/N]. It's okay. I get it," Hotch says and you suck in a deep breath. "Strauss says we're not getting any cases after our last one went so wrong. As long as he doesn't get in the way or distract too much, it's okay."

You sigh and smile gratefully, yet tiredly, and say quietly, "Thank you so much for this. I owe you, big time."

Hotch shakes his head. "I know what it's like to be a single parent. I'm just lucky I have Jessica," he says and you nod. "If a case comes up, you can go home and take care of your son. We'll call you if we need anything." You nod and get up out of the chair, and turn towards Harry when Hotch says, "Oh, and [L/N]?" You turn around and face him. "Maybe Harry can meet Jack sometime? I would have asked sooner if I knew…"

You smile. "I think that would be a lot of fun. They're roughly the same age."

Hotch nods and you hold your hand out to Harry, who takes it, and you lead him to your desk in the bullpen. You set up a blanket and some toys and books underneath your desk, and Harry makes himself very happy by your feet as you crack open a few case files and start working on some extra work.

A couple of hours later, the bullpen is filled with your colleagues, chatting idly, pawning work off onto Spencer, which you take some of to lighten his workload, and people grabbing each other coffee. You haven't gotten up once, instead staying seated, unintentionally hiding your son underneath your desk.

But, that wouldn't last forever.

"Papa?" you hear Harry call from underneath you, quietly.

Spencer's head snaps up, as well as JJ's, and you pull your chair back to look at your son and say, "Yes, sweetheart?"

"I'm hungry," he says, and you nod, reaching into your bag and pulling out a little Iron Man lunch box.

You place it on your desk and hold your arms out, saying, "You have to eat at the desk, but you can sit in my lap."

He nods and crawls up into your lap, and you see now everyone's looking at you as Harry hides his face in your chest. "It's okay, sweetie. They're Papa's friends," you say quietly, and Harry turns around enough to open his lunch box, pull out a packet of goldfish, and turn back into your chest, opening it and eating. You smile and kiss his head.

"Who's this?" JJ asks and you smile when Harry presses his face even further into your chest.

"This is Harrison. But, you can call him Harry," you say, rubbing one of your hands up and down his back. "He's my son."

"Son?" Morgan says, frowning. "I didn't know you were married."

You shake your head. "I'm not. Never was. It was a one night stand. Didn't realize that the condom broke. She died shortly after she had him, and I was given custody. I was a twenty-something just starting with the FBI, who now had a four-week-old living with him," you say, and everyone looks at you, shocked. Even Harry is looking at you like you haven't told him this a million times before. "But, I wouldn't change it for the world. He's the best thing to ever happen to me."

Emily and JJ both "Aw!" and Derek smiles. Spencer's still looking at you, shocked.

"Did you know that male emperor penguins exhibit a feature unique among penguins. If the chick hatches before the female returns, the male, despite his fasting, is able to produce and secrete a curd-like substance from his esophagus to feed the chick, allowing for survival and growth for up to two weeks," Spencer explains. "Which makes them one of the best fathers in the animal kingdom."

You smile and hug Harry closer to you, saying, "My little penguin."

He laughs and moves his face away from your chest and says, "Papa really likes seahorses."

"Yes! Seahorses are also great father's. In fact.."

Spencer rambles about anything Harry asks about, and eventually, the boy gets up from your lap and settles in Spencer's, just listening to him talk about nothing and everything. You actually manage to get all your work done, as well as some of Spencer's to make sure he isn’t seen as slacking off, though you don't know how he could ever be seen that way.

Eventually, the end of the day comes, and you gather up all of your things from underneath and on top of your desk, putting them away in your bag, and you go around the desks to hold your arms out to Harry.

"Alright, sweetheart. Time to go home," you say, and in protest he just wraps his arms tighter around Spencer's neck. You sigh. "Honey, Spencer probably has things to do. We should let him go home."

Harry whimpers and Spencer actually wraps an arm around him. "I don't mind. Honestly. I can come home with you and then walk home. It's not a big deal."

You shake your head. "If you're coming home with us, you're not leaving without dinner." Spencer nods and you grab his satchel for him, slinging it around your shoulders as he carries Harry out, still talking about nothing.

You cook Spencer a good, home cooked meal, and when you drive him home that night, you kiss him.

Six months later, Harry calls him "Dad" and you realize that, before this moment, you've never seen Spencer cry tears of joy before.

[randomshyperson]

Wanda X Reader - 10 Things I hate about you - Part One

Summary:  Pietro Maximoff is handsome and popular, but he can't date before his twin sister. The problem is that no one can get close to his sister, Wanda Maximoff. To resolve the situation, a girl interested in Pietro bribes a colleague with a mysterious past to go out with Wanda and, who knows, try to win her over. Or The one directly inspired by 10 Things I Hate About You.

Words:  6.553K  /// Read on AO3 too || Part Two

Warnings: PG, fluff, language; goth wanda is back thank god.

Notes: If English is your native language and I used slang that doesn't make sense at all, forgive me. It is really hard to translate many dialects from Portuguese to English. Anyways enjoy your reading!

You rode your skateboard to school today. Your mother was angry with you and took the keys to your motorcycle while yelling that you were difficult to raise, so you grabbed your backpack and skateboard while slamming the door on your way out.

It didn't take long to get to school, though. 

You absolutely hate this place. Sometimes you get the impression that you are surrounded by completely mental people.

You walked across the parking lot and got off your skateboard, quickly waving to your friend Carol Danvers, who was smoking leaning against the wall of the school building. You would have to talk to them later, as you had a meeting scheduled with the school principal.

Shrugging off the students as you entered the building, you ignored the stares you received and headed toward Ms. Harkness' office.

You entered without knocking because the door was already open, since she was talking to another student, and when the stranger got up she almost tripped over you on her way out. The principal raised her eyes from her notebook to you, and smiled wryly.

- Well, well, Miss Y/L/N. - she said. - I see these encounters of ours are becoming recurrent.

- I like to be around beautiful women, Miss Harkness. - You stated with a charming smile and crossed arms. The woman laughed lightly as she returned her gaze to her notebook.

- Let me see what happened here. - She mumbled to herself, probably trying to find the notes. - Wow, top nudity exhibit in the cafeteria.

You scratched your head impatiently. 

- They were melons, Miss Harkness. - You clarified. - I was making a little joke.

Harkness let out a wry chuckle as she stood up.

- How about you keep them under your blouse, huh? - She scoffed, pointing slightly at the height of your breasts and giving you a wink. You frowned. - Out!

You startled slightly, and Mrs. Harkness giggled, returning to her seat.

You blinked in confusion and turned away, mumbling wryly that she was an excellent professional before you left.

//-//

Carol was waiting for you outside the room, a few feet ahead in the hallway against her own lockers, and you greet her with a kiss on the cheek quickly.

- How did it go today? Did she say anything interesting? - Carol asked with humor in her voice. You leaned your back against the closet, letting out a chuckle.

- No way. - You replied. - She just told me to keep my breasts under my blouse.

Carol laughs lightly, while you check your cell phone. And then she touches your arm lightly. When you raise your eyes to her, she signals the corridor.

- New faces. - She nods, and you notice that it's the same girl who bumped into you in the Harkness room. Now she is accompanied by Bruce Banner, who was clearly showing her around.

- Wow, people keep choosing to come to this place. - You mock, making your friend laugh a little.Carol then checks the clock on her wrist and signals that she needs to get to her history class.  You say goodbye to her, but get distracted by your cell phone again, and then the bell rings, and you have to run to get to the literature room on the other side of the building.

//-//

You stumble into the room, and all the students turn to look at you.

- What have I missed? - you ask, trying to normalize your breathing after running through the halls.

- The oppressive patriarchal values that determine our education. - replied a girl you didn't know.

- Nice. - You grumble with a slight laugh, as you hurry to sit in the back of the room.

- You must love detention, don't you, Miss Y/L/N? This is your third delay this week. - commented the teacher as soon as you sat down. Several giggles were heard, but you didn't pay much attention. You threw your bag on the chair and tried to pretend that you were interested in whatever Professor Fury was teaching.

- Professor Fury, any chance you could ask Wanda to take her Midol before coming to class? - scoffed Pepper Potts, one of the most popular and insufferable girls at this school. You rolled your eyes at the teasing, and leaned back as the rest of the class giggled.

- One of these days Mrs. Maximoff is going to punch you in the nose, and I'm not going to do anything to stop her. - Fury replied seriously, wiping the ironic smile off Potts' face. - And Wanda, I want to thank you for your point of view. I know how hard it must have been to overcome all those years of upper middle-class suburban oppression. It must be hard. - He sneered and then started walking toward the girl who was probably Wanda. - But the next time you protest about demanding better food, or whatever it is that white kids protest about, ask them why they don't buy books written by black people!

You let out a little laugh, and Professor Fury looked at you seriously.

- Do you find something funny, Miss? 

You shrugged, straightening your posture.

- Sorry to interrupt your speech, Mr. Fury. - You say. - But you're blaming Wanda for something she has no control over. Wouldn't it be better to suggest books written by black women, instead of separating the fights?

Professor Fury blinks in irritation at you, while Wanda looks in your direction, looking surprised.

- Out. Principal office. - says the professor, and you blink in surprise. - Both of you, by the way! You pissed me off!

You grumble, and grab your backpack and leave the room, with Wanda following behind. But you don't speak to her, and when you leave the room, you go to opposite sides of the hallway, since you had no intention of seeing the principal at all.

//-//

You ended up skipping the last two classes of the day while sneaking a smoke with Carol behind the bleachers of the soccer field. 

And then you accepted the ride home that she offered you.

- See you tomorrow, troublemaker. - She said good-bye, and you just nodded as you walked toward the front door.

Your mother was at home, sitting at her computer in the living room, and you thought maybe you could sneak past her, but as soon as you closed the door she turned around with her arms crossed.

- The school called. - She said as she stood up, and you let out an impatient sigh as you threw your backpack on the floor by the door. - Are you trying to get suspended?

- Oh yeah, that's my dream. - You scoff, walking toward the kitchen.

- You're going to be grounded.

- I'm already grounded. - You retort softly, and your mother walks over to the counter. 

- You think I'm kidding? - She exclaims angrily, and then she's heading down the hall, and you're curious what she's going to do, so you follow her through the house to the garage. You look impassive as she glances around, but then she grabs a hammer and screwdriver from the cabinet and heads for her motorcycle. Your whole body tenses up, but before you can do anything, your mother is breaking your bike.

- You've gone crazy! - You shout as you run toward her, but she turns threateningly toward you with the objects pointed in your direction

- No more fighting! - she shouts. - You're not going anywhere on this damn motorcycle, do you hear me? You are grounded until college.

And then she throws the tools on the floor, and leaves the garage. You take a deep breath, trying not to break everything in front of you, and turn to your motorcycle. Some parts were broken, but you could fix them. The problem would be having the money to do it.

//-//

Tuesday started with biology. And you were really pissed off about the whole thing with your mom and your motorcycle. The professor asked the groups to dissect frogs, and the damn scalpel he handed out wasn't cutting anything. So you grabbed your knife hidden in your boot, and angrily pierced the animal. 

- You've lost your mind, put that away! - ordered Carol sitting next to you as she looked around to see if the teacher had seen. You let out an angry sigh and put the item away.

You were bored, and you smoked when you were bored. So you turned the valve on the experimental flame on the bench while putting a cigarette in your mouth, and walked over to light it.

- Girl, what's the matter with you today? - Carol asked impatiently, closing the valve and taking the cigarette out of your mouth.

You mumbled without answering, and she let out a dry laugh before going back to writing. Your gaze wandered around the room and you thought that the new girl and Bruce Banner were looking at you from the table in front of you, but they looked away quickly, so you got distracted again.

//-//

The next class was better because it kept your hands busy. Mechanics with Professor Howard Stark was interesting as he allowed the students to experiment as much as they wanted. 

At this moment you were welding a car part while trying not to burn your fingers when you heard a female voice next to you.

- Hi, how are you? - the girl said, and as you turned you realized that it was the new student. You frowned confused, you don't talk to anyone. You thought you should have an aggressive posture, because the girl's voice trembled a little, and then she quickly said good-bye and left the room. You shook your head and went back to concentrating on the lesson.

- What the hell was that all about? - Carol asked from beside you, and you shrugged.

- I told you there are only crazy people in this school. - You remarked with amusement.

- But we go here. - She retorted with a smile.

- Exactly.

Carol laughed and turned her attention back to her own activity.

//-//

In Gym class, the teacher took all the students to the outdoor field, where the rugby team was practicing. He was more concerned about the girls' performance, so he let the rest of the class do as they pleased. Then you and Carol sat down on one of the benches, while you shared a cigarette.

And you had about ten minutes of peace before Pepper Potts and one of her friends came to talk to you.

- Hey, what's up? - asked the blonde, and you looked at her with irony.

- Are you lost? - You replied aggressively, but she didn't seem intimidated.

- See that girl over there? - She said, pointing quickly toward the field. You followed her direction, and it was the same girl from literature class. - That's Wanda Maximoff. I want you to go out with her.

You laughed, shaking your head, and then took a drag on your cigarette.

- As if, preppy. - You denied it as you exchanged a look with Carol, who was grinning in disbelief.

But Pepper was not joking.

- Look, I can't go out with her hot brother until she dates. - She clarifies. - Their father is kind of crazy, he made a rule...

- Touching. Really. I'm moved. - You mock without patience. - But that's not my problem.

- Would it be your problem if you were paid a nice fee?

You let out a dry laugh, looking at her in surprise.

- Are you going to pay me to go out with someone? - you ask, and Potts has a smile on her face as she nods in agreement. You laugh again. - How much?

- Twenty dollars.

You raise your eyebrows, really considering this for a second. And then you look toward the field, and watch as Wanda fouls a girl to the ground, and you swallow dryly. This girl was going to eat you alive.

- Okay, how about 30 bucks? - Potts next suggests when she sees the foul. 

You thought about the parts of your motorcycle that you would have to buy. And you licked your lips before you spoke.

- Let's take a good look at this. - You start. - If I take her to the movies, it will be fifteen dollars. And if we buy popcorn, it's fifty dollars. I like to buy candy for the girls, so it would be about seventy-five.

- This is not a negotiation. - Potts retorts angrily. - Take it or leave it, mutt.

You let out a humorless laugh. 

- But I think it is, Potts. - You retort, smoking your cigarette again. - Or I'll go over there now and tell Wanda your whole touching little tale.

Potts blinks in irritation, and lets out a wry laugh. But then she relaxes her posture.

- Eighty dollars. - she says. You smile, throwing the cigarette on the floor and putting it out with your foot. 

- Deal, Hollywood. - You tell her, and raise your hand in her direction. Potts rolls her eyes, but takes the money from her pocket and hands it to you.

She and her friend then leave, and you settle into your seat.

- You're crazy. - Carol declares afterwards.

- Yes, I know. - You say, brushing your hair out of your eyes with your hands. - But I need new parts. It'll be harmless, it's just a date.

- I hope you're right. - She comments with a laugh, turning her attention back to the field. And then practice ends, and you exchange a look with Carol before getting up and walking toward the players' benches.

You assume your most charming pose as you approach Wanda.

- Hey, pretty girl. - You greet her with a smile as she drinks water from a bottle. She frowns in surprise, and has a wry smile on her face. - What's up?

- I'm sweating like a pig, how are you? - She answers wryly, and you smile awkwardly.

- Wow, that sounds attractive. - You reply in the same tone, watching her put the bottle of water in her backpack on the bench.

- Oh, yes. My goal in life is to look attractive all the time. - She scoffs, frowning. - But I guess it works, since I got your attention. The world makes sense again.

She starts walking toward the exit of the camp, and you are a bit taken aback by the irony, but hurry to keep up with her.

- I'll pick you up on Friday, then. - You tell her, and Wanda lets out a laugh.

- Sure, Friday. - She wryly continues walking.

- Hey, it's the night I take you to places you've never seen.

- To a convenience store on Broadway? - She replies with irony. - Girl, do you even know my name?

You laugh.

- Wanda. - You answer, but she doesn't seem impressed. - And I know more than you know.

- I doubt it. I doubt it very much. - She said ironically and you stopped following her, biting your lip as you watched her walk off the field.

//-//

Your first attempt to get a date with Wanda had not gone well at all, but you are optimistic. And then, on Saturday of that same week, while you and Carol were at the laundromat on the corner of your houses, she nodded slightly outside through the window.

- Isn't that the car of the girl you're being paid to date? - She mocked, and you sighed.

- Don't talk like that. - you said as you put the coins in the washing machine. - It makes me sound like a psychopath.

She laughed without looking at you, kneeling on the waiting couch as she looked out the window.

- I think I should look for a new rejection. - You grumble, handing Carol some coins. - Take care of my clothes while I go talk to her, please.

Carol nods in agreement as you leave the establishment. Crossing the street, you look in the direction of Wanda's car. It is nice, and you are watching the tires as she arrives.

- Are you following me? - She asks with a mixture of aggressiveness and surprise. 

- What? Of course not! - You deny it, but with the suspicious look on her face, you try to add. - I was in the laundry room, smarty-pants. I saw your car, and wanted to say hello.

She lets out a sigh, and shrugs her shoulders, heading for the door. You hurry to stand in front of her, a charming smile on your lips.

- I notice that you don't talk much. - You remark, and Wanda frowns, crossing her arms.

- It depends on the subject. - She says. - Talking about the tires on my car doesn't cause me a verbal frenzy.

- You're not afraid of me, are you? - you ask, and she looks at you incredulously.

- Why would I be afraid of you?

- Most people are. - You retort, and Wanda rolls her eyes with irony.

- Well, I don't.

You smile and move a little closer.

- Not afraid, but I bet you've imagined me naked, haven't you? - You tease and give a little wink. Wanda keeps her face almost angry.

- Wow, is it that obvious? - She retorts. - I want you so bad, baby.

She mocks last before bending down slightly and opening the car door, pushing you with the metal.

You let out an impatient sigh as you step back, and she gets into the car and prepares to leave. You stand with your arms folded trying to think how exactly you are going to make this work.

And then Pepper Potts parks her car right behind Wanda's, preventing her from leaving, while the blonde steps out of the vehicle with a smiling, arrogant posture.

- My God, is it idiots' day today? - Wanda complains from inside the car. When Pepper passes by her window, she shouts: - Do you mind girl?

- Not even a little, bitch. - Potts retorts without looking at her as she walks away. 

But then Wanda is backing the car up, and the next moment Pepper's red Cadillac has a big bump mark on the side. You laugh in surprise, not believing that she had actually hit the car.

- My God, you are completely crazy! - Potts shouts as she observes the impact. 

- Oops. - You hear Wanda scoff.

You laughed again, before going back to the laundry room. 

//-//

It was Monday again, and you were trying to have a quiet day. But while you were putting your books away in your locker, Potts approached you.

- When I pay for something, I expect results. - She says, and you close the closet to brace yourself against it.

- I'm trying.

- Watching that lunatic destroy my car doesn't count as a date. - She retorts with mild irritation. - If you don't go out with her, I won't get Pietro. Then get something soon, okay?

That girl's audacity pissed you off. 

- I just raised the price. - You tell her, and she looks at you in disbelief.

- Excuse me?

- One hundred and fifty dollars a date. - You say. - In advance.

- Forget it. - She said angrily, turning away.

- Then forget about her brother.

Potts lets out a grumble and then turns to you again, hurrying to get the money.

- Does this kid have a gold dick by any chance? - You scoff, and Potts gives you the middle finger, making you laugh.

- You better get the date, sister. - She says, and you just smile before heading off in the direction of the mechanics' classroom.

//-//

You were trying to find the correct melting point for one of the tools when you were approached by the same girl as the last time you had mechanics. 

- I know what you are trying to do with Wanda Maximoff. - She announces, and you let out a wry chuckle as you continue your attention to the tools in front of you.

- Really? And what are you going to do about it?

- Help you.

You blink in surprise as you raise a large metal bar at your eye level to identify its features.

- Why? - you ask, and it is not the girl who speaks next.

- The situation is that my friend Monica, is in love with Pietro Maximoff. - A male voice speaks, and then you look quickly to identify Bruce Banner.

- God, this kid must really have a gold cock. - You mumble with irony as you place the iron bar on the table, and take off your protective gloves.

- Believe me when I tell you that Monica's love is pure, she wants to date him. - Banner explains as you walk to another table in the room, looking for your notes. - Unlike Pepper Potts, who only wants to use him as a trophy.

- Look, I'm only in this for the money. I don't give a shit who Potts is fucking. - You respond without patience, and Monica seems to get irritated with you, but Banner calms her down.

You make some notes regarding the lesson and walk over to the table to analyze the pictures of the tools as you organize them. Monica and Banner follow you.

- Listen, Y/N, we are the ones who planned this story so that Monica and Pietro could date. - Banner says. - Potts is just the go-between.

You laugh with surprise.

- And you are going to help me win Wanda over?

- That's right. - They both say in unison. You turn your attention back to the materials in front of you.

- We will investigate what she likes. - Banner says. - You need our help.

Bruce smiled amiably, and you laughed at the posture he assumed.

- Look, we'll start here. - He began by pulling a piece of paper from his pocket. - On Friday, Stephen Strange is having a party. It's the perfect opportunity.

- Perfect for what? - you ask, looking at him.

- For you to invite Wanda. - He clarifies, and you sigh impatiently, already tired of this conversation.

- I'll think about it. - You say finally and walk to the other side of the room, and this time, they don't follow you.

//-//

It was Wednesday, and you and your friends went to a bar to play a bit of pool shortly after school. Your mother had no idea you were here, but she was working, so she wouldn't know.

You got a text message from Bruce, wanting to meet you along with Monica, and you laughed when you sent the location. They really weren't the kind of people who hang around this place.

You were upstairs, drinking some beer when you saw them come in, and nodding slightly to Carol, you went downstairs and walked over to them.

- So, what do you have for me? - you asked, leaning against a wall.

- Before we get started, I have a question. - says Bruce. - Is it true that you are on probation?

You laugh in surprise.

- What?

- Bruce, shut up. - said Monica, tapping her colleague on the shoulder. And then she turned to you. - First thing, Wanda hates smokers.

- Okay, I hate them too.

You mock, but Monica and Bruce look serious, so you sigh, and take out of your pocket your cigarette case, handing it to the girl.

- There is another problem, Pietro told me that Wanda likes pretty girls. 

They look at you for a moment and you frown.

- Are you saying that I'm not pretty? - you ask, straightening your posture.

- You are beautiful! Monica, she's so beautiful, what are you saying? - hurried Bruce almost in terror. You wanted to laugh.

Monica nods quickly in agreement, and you lean back against the wall.

- Look, I made a list. - She hastens to say, pulling a piece of paper from her shirt pocket. - Wanda's tastes are: Sokovian food, feminist poetry, punk and alternative music. And there is a list of the CDs she had in her room.

She says, handing the paper to you. You let out a sigh.

- So should I buy some soup, a book, and ear plugs for some really noisy concert?

They both shrug, smiling slightly.

- Have you ever been to the Skrull Club, west side of town? - Banner asks.

You chuckle.

- It's a nice place, but not really my style.

- Well, it will have to be. - says Monica. - Her favorite group is playing there tomorrow night.

You run your fingers through your hair, sighing.

- Come on, Y/N, it's only for one night. - says Banner. - We're sure she'll be there, Mon found the tickets.

- She also has a black lingerie set. - Added Monica and you frown with confusion.

- Why is this relevant? - You asked, and Monica looked away, looking embarrassed. You laughed lightly, but didn't push it. Then you looked at both of them. - Okay, I'll drop by.

Bruce and Monica both let out excited exclamations and then waved goodbye. You laughed and shook your head, wondering what you had gotten yourself into.

//-//

The Skrull Club was generally frequented by the punk crowd in town, many women from extremist feminist movements hung out here. But in general it was a pretty diverse crowd of rockers, punks, goths and allies. And the drink was cheap.

You received a few curious glances as you walked through the dimly lit corridors of the nightclub, but it was more because these clubs were generally frequented by the same people, and you’re a familiar face.

The place was very crowded, and you had to dodge a lot of people until you reached the main dance floor, trying to find Wanda.

You smiled when you finally saw her, in the first row, dancing with a girl who was also from your school. You thought she looked pretty, in her black dress and red jacket, plus a knee-length black stocking and dark boots on her feet. She might have looked intimidating, but she was still very pretty.

You don't quite understand why your heart races at the image of her dancing and smiling, so you think it best to get a drink, and turn toward the bar.

You sit there, trying to decide how you are going to approach her, but then Wanda is coming toward the bar, and you disguise yourself by looking the other way.

- You don't give up, do you? - She says as soon as she sees you. And walks over to where you are sitting. - If you're planning on asking me out, you can just give up!

- Do you mind? I'm trying to hear the music. - You hit back without looking at her.

-You're not surrounded by your typical cloud of smoke. -She comments after a moment, and you take a sip of the drink you ordered before answering.

- Yes, I quit. They say it's bad for your health. - You say it with a slight irony.

- Do you think so? - Wanda looks slightly surprised, and you give her a short smile before standing up.

- These guys aren't the Kree's, but they play well. - You comment on her favorite band before heading off toward the dance floor. Wanda hurries to follow you.

- Do you know who the Kree's are? - she asks in surprise.

- Why, you don't know? - You reply with irony.

She doesn't answer, looking mildly impressed. You smile briefly.

- I was watching you dance. - You comment as the band is finishing the song. - I don't think I've ever seen you so sexy.

And then the song ends exactly with your line, and the whole club hears you. Several people giggle, and you feel your cheeks heat up, but Wanda laughs too, and that relaxes you.

- Come to Stephen Strange's party with me. - You ask her. And she tilts her head slightly to the side, still smiling.

- You never give up, do you?

And then another song starts, and Wanda is coming back to the front of the stage.

- Is that a yes? - you shout at her.

- No!

- Was that a no?

It takes a second, but she shouts back.

- No!

You grin.

- See you at 9:30! - You shout to her before she disappears into the crowd. 

You're smiling all the way home.

//-//

You were early. But you were so anxious about it that you left the house as quickly as possible. 

And then you arrived at Wanda's door, but as soon as you went to knock, she opened it.

- What are you doing here? - she asked in surprise.

- 9:30. - You answer. - Yeah, well, I'm early.

- Whatever, I'm driving. - She says and then you look into the house and see Pietro Maximoff with a kangaroo baby carrier outfit occupied with a doll and frown.

- May I ask what that is? - You remark, and Wanda just rolls her eyes at the scene, then turns to you.

- My father is a little neurotic about this whole pregnancy thing. - She answers and walks outside. You both wait for Pietro.

- At least he doesn't use a real baby. - You joke and Wanda smiles. But then Pietro leaves the house, looking slightly annoyed, and you hurry to Wanda's car.

It doesn't take long to get to the party.

The place was packed. Probably the whole school was here. And as soon as Wanda found a parking place, Pietro got out and disappeared into the crowd.

You decided to accompany Wanda as she entered the house. You went toward the second floor, and you lost sight of Wanda when a girl jumped on you, completely drunk and trying to kiss you.

- Wow, slow down there. - You said, helping her sit up. You found several empty and sealed bottles of water in one of the liquor containers around the house and handed one to her. - I want you to drink it all, okay?

The girl whimpered in confusion, but you waited. She seemed better, but you handed her another bottle just to be sure.

- Hey Peggy, I found you! - said a skinny boy you didn't know, walking up to you. He frowned, slightly startled, when he noticed you.

- Are you a friend of hers? - You asked him with distrust, and he nodded, looking mildly frightened.

- Yes, he is. This is Steve. - mumbled the girl sitting up, looking like she had a headache. - Thanks for the water, by the way.

- No problem. - You say. - Are you feeling well enough to be alone?

She nods slightly as she speaks:

- Yes, yes. Steve will take care of me now. Thanks again.

And then you patted Steve on the arm, and left the two of them, walking back through the crowd.

It took you many minutes to find Wanda again, because the party is so crowded. And when you reached her, she was pouring a glass of drink into her mouth.

- Hey, I've been looking all over for you. - You announce mildly annoyed. - What the hell are you doing?

- Getting drunk! - she answers ironically. - Isn't that what people are supposed to do at a party?

- I don't know, you do whatever you want to do. - You retort, and Wanda raises her eyebrows.

- Very funny. You're the only one who says that. - She says as she turns away. - See you later.

Wanda leaves walking through the party, and you see her grab another drink glass on the way.

You think you heard someone yell fight while you were walking through the party, and then the crowd moved, but you didn't go toward the people. 

You are very angry, and impatient, wanting to be spending this evening with Wanda, but she doesn't seem interested. 

And then you were walking back the way you came, and you ran into the same couple as before, only now they were kissing. You laughed lightly, the boy looked shy. You decided to stay out of their way, and went downstairs, only to run into Wanda again.

- Hey, why don't you let me have this one. - You spoke up as you noticed what must have been one of the many glasses of booze she had taken, and you raised your arm to pick it up, but Wanda was quicker, moving the glass away.

- No! This one is mine! - she grumbled, clearly drunk, trying to push you away. But you managed to take her glass, and she let out an annoyed sigh.

As you put the glass on a small table, she walked away again, and before you could follow, Pepper was at your side.

- Girl, how did you manage to do that? - she asked, looking excited. You frowned.

- What are you talking about?

- You made a freak act like a human being. - She commented with irony, but you weren't even paying attention anymore. Your gaze raced across the room after Wanda, and then someone turned on the radio in the next room and the crowd screamed attracting your attention.

You exclaimed in surprise when you noticed Wanda dancing on a table, without the jacket she was wearing earlier. Pepper ran in the same direction, joining in the shouts of celebration from the crowd around the table. 

Walking towards the table you were a mixture of irritation, disbelief and embarrassment. Wanda was completely drunk, dancing sensually to the music, while people whistled and watched intently. She had her eyes closed, not even seeming to notice her surroundings.

And then she made a badly calculated move, and hit her head on the chandelier on the table. You were quick enough to catch her when she fell.

- Okay, that was enough. - You grumbled, helping her to her feet. - Are you okay?

- I'm fine! - she replied, but she could barely walk. You kept her from falling while grabbing the jacket she had thrown to the ground.

- Yeah, you're not fine. - You said. - Let's get out of here.

- I just need to lie down. - She mumbled, letting you hold her around the waist as you led her through the crowd.

- If you lie down, you'll sleep. - You say. - You can't sleep after hitting your head.

Wanda giggled.

- So many words. - She complained, and you thought it best to sit her down somewhere.

You reached the outside, as crowded as the house, but you managed to find a space in the garden for her to sit, and helped her to the bench. Wanda put her hand on her head where she had hit it.

- Hey, I need to talk to you. - Called Monica, walking up to you suddenly.

- I'm kinda busy. - You retorted, looking at Wanda.

- Five minutes, it's important.

You sighed, and took one last look at Wanda before walking away with Monica.

- Look, the deal is off, okay? - she said, and you blinked in confusion. - Pietro never wanted to be with me. He just wanted to have sex with Pepper.

You really didn't have the energy for that right now.

- Monica, where did all this come from now, huh? Weren't you two sneaking around together?

- I thought I was having a good time, but I saw them both at the party. - She explained, and you sighed impatiently.

- Hey, you like this boy don't you? - you asked, and she looked away, nodding. - And he's worth all this stuff you're doing?

- I thought so but...

- Yes or no?  - She swallowed hard, and you assumed a serious posture. - Listen, Pepper Potts is not half as good as you, and you never let anyone make you think that you don't deserve something. Okay? 

Monica nodded, looking surprised. You turned your face toward Wanda quickly.

- Look, I have to go. - You said as you turned and helped Wanda to her feet.

On the way out you made sure to grab one of the bottles of water you found in the barrels.

You let her rest her arm on your shoulder to keep from falling, while your arm went around her waist. You dragged her across the street, and you ended up climbing a small hill in the mansion area that ended at a playground.

- Why are you doing this? - she grumbled.

- I said, you might have a concussion. - You retorted. Wanda broke free of you and started trying to walk ahead. You kept your attention to catch her in case she fell.

- You don't even care if I don't wake up.

You let out a chuckle, stopping her from falling next.

- That's not true.

- Why not?

- Because then I'd have to date girls who like me. - You respond with humor.

- If you could find one. - She retorts, and you have a smile on your lips when you answer.

- Oh, see. Who needs affection when I get hate?

- I just need to sit for a while. - She says, closing her eyes for a moment, and you help her sit down on one of the swings behind you. She falls off balance a second after you put her there, but you are quick to help her stay seated.

- Jesus. - You sigh as you stop her from falling, and then sit down on the swing beside her while Wanda laughs lightly. - So, why do you let yourself be affected?

- By whom? - she asks.

- Potts.

Wanda looks away, shaking her head.

- I hate her.

You let out a tired sigh.

- Well, you have chosen the perfect revenge. Intravenous tequila. - You joke, making her laugh.

- It's what they say.... - She begins to speak while you are looking away, and with the momentary silence you stare back, startled to find her asleep. You get up hastily, touching her face.

- Hey, Wanda! Wake up! Come on, open your eyes! - You called out, patting her face lightly. 

Wanda blinked, opening her eyes, and you let out a sigh of relief. And then you took your hands away from her face and stood up, while she continued to look at you.

- I like your eyes. - She says with a shy smile. And you smile too, but then she throws up on your shoes the next second and the moment is broken. You laugh incredulously, but pat her on the back.

- Time to go home, punk. - You comment softly.

It takes a moment for Wanda to calm down, and you hand her the bottle of water you got. Then you walk to her car, and she hands you the keys.

Just as you are about to arrive at her house many minutes after, she speaks again:

- I should do that. - She comments still sounding drunk. 

- Do what?

- That. - She says, pointing to the radio. A rock song was playing.

- Start a band?

- No, install radios in cars. - She retorted with irony, and you laughed lightly. - Starting a band of course. My dad would love it.

You then stop the car in front of her house. 

- You don't seem to be the type to ask your father's permission to do things. - You comment as you take out the keys.

Wanda blinks in surprise.

- So now you know me?

- I'm trying. 

- People only know that I scare them.

- Yeah, I know the feeling. - You comment with a wry smile. Wanda looks at you with an intensity that makes your stomach turn. - So, your father looks tough.

- No, he just wants me to be someone I'm not. - She says, shaking her head slightly.

- Who?

- Pietro. - She answers with a frown. You let out an understanding sigh.

- No offense, I know everyone likes your brother and all, but he's a pretty shallow guy. - You say and Wanda looks at you in surprise, but then she has a little smile on her face.

- You know... you're not as obnoxious as I thought. - She says, making you laugh slightly. And then she looks at you like that again, and brings your faces together, closing her eyes. You swallow dryly, ignoring your nervousness, and look at the steering wheel.

- I think we should do this another time. - You say, and Wanda looks at you in disbelief, as you twiddle your fingers nervously. She frowns and looks ahead, then opens the car door and gets out.

You sit there for several minutes, hoping that Wanda won't be even more irritated with you than she usually is.

[a-simple-imagine]

Define a crush

Synopsis: you want to define your relationship with hermione but you’re not too sure about your feelings 

Pairing: Hermione Granger x fem!reader

Words: 1.6k+

PREV //

You weren't mad at her in the first place but you can tell she feels bad that you feel. You don't know why, it's not like if she had been there you wouldn't have. It was an accident. Why everyone seemed to think they needed to protect you was beyond you. You're a Hufflepuff, not someone made of glass. You're sat down at the black lake with Hermione. Head rested on her shoulder as she reads her book out loud. She was trying to help you study but her soft voice mixed with the warm air had you practically falling asleep.

"You're supposed to be paying attention,"

"I am," you urge. You'd sit up a little straighter but ever since your accident you'd been feeling a little rough.

"No your not," Hermione states, slapping her book shut.

"I am,"

"Then what did I just tell you about?" You hum softly in thought but honestly, you had no clue.

"Owls?"

"Not even close." she sighed softly. "I'm telling you about aurors during the giant wars."

"Since when were we learning about the giant wars?"

"Exactly my point. You need to start paying attention."

"Can we take a break then?"

"What do you need a break for? You weren't listening anyway." You chuckle softly. "Do you want to go back inside?"

"No" you snuggle against her. "I like it out here. It's peaceful and in theory, I'm learning."

"I was just thinking maybe this was too much for you. I could take you back to your dorm."

"I'm fine. The nurse said I should be back to normal within the week."

"Your friends over there,"

"Which one?" You ask.

"Malfoy." You open your eyes, pulling away from granger to spy Draco, Pansy and Blasie heading your way. As much as you loved him, now was not the time.

"Are you stalking me Draco?"

"You wish." He hits back. "Just happened to be passing by. You two look buddy buddy out here, something you're not telling us?"

"I wish... we're just studying for History of Magic."

"I guess some witches need all the help they can get but this is scraping the bottom of the barrel."

"I can't tell if you're insulting me or her,"

"Both," His friends snicker. "You coming by later?"

"Don't I always."

"See you later then." He looks to the other girl. "Granger." A firm nod before walking away.

"Always?" That was the first thing she asked.

"Huh?"

"What did you mean by Don't I always?"

"Oh," you smile. "I always try and visit the Slytherin common room."

"Why?"

"To see Draco of course. Let's just say my fellow Hufflepuff aren't too fond of letting him into ours so I have to make the trip to his."

"You really go out of your way for this boy."

"Same could be said about you for Harry or Ron, speaking of which," you start. "Is it true that you like Ron?"

"He is my friend, everyone knows that."

"No I mean... you like Ron."

"Where did you get that idea?" She wonders.

"Ginny Weasley." You shrug. "Although I don't think she's the only one who thinks it.

"That's absurd." She expresses.

"You do spend a lot of time together and you are very close, no one would judge."

"I don't have a thing for Ronald," She huffs.

"Harry then?" You wonder. "A lot of girls have a thing for the chosen one."

"No- stop it," She's embarrassed. "Do you have a thing for Draco? You spend a lot of time with him."

You shrug. "Not that I know of I don't quite understand how you know when you have a crush. People think we're dating though which is fine."

"I couldn't really tell you," She shrugs. "It's just a feeling. How do you know when you're happy or sad."

"But there are indicators for those. When you're sad for example and you cry."

"You're quite right. Crushes are less obvious but I feel like if you had one you'd know about it."

If you had one you'd know about it? How though? What is it supposed to feel like? It seemed rather illogical. And it played on your mind. Even as you sat with Draco in the Slytherin common room, listening to him complain about one class or another.

"Have you ever had a crush, Draco?" You interrupt.

"What?"

"Have you ever had a crush? Like on a person?"

He shrugs. "Why do you ask?"

"I was talking about it with Hermione and I'm trying to figure out how people know when they have a crush on someone."

"Do you have a crush on someone?"

"I don't know. How can I know if I don't know how I'm supposed to feel when I have a crush?"

"...what?" His brows furrow and you sigh.

"I think I might like Hermione," you express softly, looking to Draco.

"What makes you think that?"

"I dunno but she thinks I like you and I'm very confused."

Draco just chuckles to himself. "I don't know what to tell you, but. You're gonna have to figure that out for yourself."

"Fair," you nod. "I'm pretty sure you don't have feelings so I don't know why I asked you."

"Haha," You chuckle to yourself.

"What would you do if I liked you,"

He shrugs. "Deal with it,"

"Wow, thanks. Really feeling the love here."

"You just said you like Granger." He hugged. "Who, by the way, your parents are going to hate. They may tolerate a friendship but dating a mudblood is a different story."

"Don't talk about her that way," you insist. "Just because she's muggle-born doesn't make her any less of a witch."

"Tell that to our parents,"

He was right. You knew he was. You didn't know where your feelings stood but your parents would never approve of Hermione. She's not of pure blood. That was very clear on that fact. They've always pushed you towards Draco. There is no true way t define a crush, if there was surely Hermione would have told you. She knows practically everything. Sitting at a table in ??? You sip on a butterbeer as you watch Hermione speak. Maybe you did like Hermione? Perhaps this was what it was supposed to feel like; to find the magic in the smallest of moments. To notice the sparkle in her eyes or the gentlest curve of her smile. Love was a foreign concept outside the context of friendship and family but you looked at her in a way, you've never seen Draco and they were both your best friends.

You're sat in the common room late one evening. Everyone else is either in bed or completely wrapped up in their own thing. "I think I've figured it out,"

"Figured what out?" Hermione wonders.

"How it feels to have a crush. I think I finally understand."

"Oh," she seemed surprised. "And how did you figure it out?"

"I spoke to Draco about it," you shrug.

"So you do have a crush on Malfoy?"

"No," You shake your head. "I don't think so. He's my friend and always will be. I just got advice from him."

"Hard to imagine Malfoy giving you good advice."

You chuckle a little. "He can be useful every once in a while,"

"So-"

"Let me just talk for a second before I lose my nerve okay?" You ask. Hermione nods. "I've been thinking about what a crush is a lot. It's a weird subject since it's like this invisible force that makes no sense but I figured out that it's supposed to feel different," you look away from her. "It's hard to explain but I think I may like you."

"Oh-"

"Please don't freak out. I considered not telling you but since we talked about it I thought I may as well come clean." You shrug. "It's okay if you don't like me that way of course- I would totally understand. I didn't mean to make things weird."

"You ramble a lot when you're nervous," She insists quietly. You nod a little.

"I'm sorry,"

"Don't be," Hermione insisted. "It's not like it's voluntary."

You both fall silent.

"Why do you think you like me?"

"I compared the way I feel around Draco and other friends, to the way I feel about you. You're the only one who makes me feel... I don't know a good word... extraordinary? I'm not good at describing feelings."

"You're a strange little Hufflepuff," Hermione chuckles. "What did Draco say when you told him?"

"He mentioned that my parents wouldn't like you,"

"Because I'm a girl or?"

"Because you're not from a pureblood family." You shrug. "Maybe the girl thing too though I don't know. That's never really been brought up but I don't know."

"Anyway, it doesn't matter. I just wanted to tell you straight up, now I'm going to bed because I have an early class tomorrow. And Snape will have my head if I fall asleep again."

"You don't want to know how I feel?"

"What do you mean?" Your brows furrow a little.

"We just talked about you. Don't you want to know how I feel about you or my findings?"

"I just assumed everything was the same with you- maybe you thought it was weird."

"I gathered you thought that I thought it was weird."

"So what then?"

"I've known I liked you since you fell off your broom during quidditch- well that at least confirmed it more than that was the start of it," Hermione admits. "Maybe it was just the adrenaline but I like you too. I'm sure of it but I need you to be sure too. Even if it takes a little while to figure out, we can do that together."

You gently smile. "Okay. We'll figure it out together."

// NEXT

[dryams03]

【TAG NINE PEOPLE YOU'D LIKE TO GET TO KNOW BETTER】

Ain't used to answer this kind of tags but... I guess it would be fun. Thanks @yourlocaltea @supersweetlyuniquebouquetstuff & @sunturbogel for the tag, here you have my answers!

1. Favorite color:

I don't have a favorite color. I always tried to say "I like this color better than others" but I can't. I like them all and they all like me. I don't like monochromatic things.

2. Currently reading:

Mmm... How should I say it without you all imagining me as a crazy person? xD

——I'm currently reading three books!

...Yeah, it's not a big deal. They are:

・ “Trilogía sucia de La Habana” by Pedro Juan Gutiérrez (in English “Dirty Trilogy of Havana”). This one is because of college, and honestly I don't recommend it, also it has a VERY EXPLICIT CONTENT AND LANGUAGE (I've the craziest History's professor). Its gender is dirty realism and turned repugnant to me. And I HAVE to write three pages about the reading! I like realism as a gender but the ‘dirty’ part is not only on the situations but also on the words. It erases all the beauty that I'm used to read in books. It's good to show realism but I don't like how the language is brutally destroyed in front of me. But if you like dirty language and realism, and you wanna know how the famine transforms an entire society, go ahead.

・“120 Journey of Sodoma” by the master of masters Marquis de Sade. If you are minor, please don't read it, it has also EXPLICIT CONTENT but in a magnific and majestic language. I could be disgusted imagining all that situations that happened there, but the way he tells everything is... Ha~ I drool because of its language. You must have stomach to read it (in other words, be really tolerant to all kind of situations, those who are normally forbidden in a lot of sites on internet and real life) but it totally worth it!!

・“After Five: Balance or Evil” the link is here. It's in Spanish it's in process and there is not an English version yet, buuuut I really give all my support to this story. I'm currently working associated with the author to make this fantastic world even more real than the words could carry. (I will talk more about this project below, let's be organized). Associated with: @sauthorgod

3. Last series:

“Love, Death & Robots” It has non-related animations. I thought they are pretty cool, I have still to see the third season.

4. Sweet, Spicy or Savory?

I don't have preferences with food either ^^"

5. Currently working on:

I have a lot of projects in process. The college is dragging me away of my projects but I'm planning everything cautiously. They are:

・After five, and related. This is my biggest project, it perhaps would take me all my life and I'm waiting for accomplish it for sure. "After five" is the name of the books that will be telling the incredible history of this fantasy world. My beloved one and I, we plan to show the world in a lot of ways as he write the story and I get better in my abilities to draw. After the writing book, we will be working on a manga, but our biggest objectif is transform all the ideas in a game. When I end up this year, I will be telling you more details about it. Even so, you can ask me if you wish!

・DL OC blog (Cassandra Bleucœur). Perhaps you know me because of my OC. Well, for her I have a hole list of surprises hehe. Everytime I have an idea for her I just take note promising me to do it later. And believe me, I will. Also I'm working still on her route.

・Translation of old fanfics. I hate to leave my little children alone (all my creations) that's why I'm planning to translate two fanfics that I've been saving in the dark folder of my laptop for you to enjoy it. They are DL fanfics

— Temptation (Ruki Mukami)

— Master (Carla Tsukinami)

・Commissions. I would like to open commission as soon as I get free time. I'm working consciously on that and hopefully I will open it next year.

・Utopia. I have my own little fantasy world. One day I will want to share it with you too. But first... I have to put all my ideas in order xD

That's all folks! I would really like to know a little bit more about:

@strawberry--bride @yuriko-tsukino-rp @death-at-eve @ask-ruki-mukami @mukami-kuron-mrsadisticcat @fruit-of-infidelity @mino-diabolik and whoever that like