#CRUEL AND UNUSUAL PUNISHMENT WHAT HAVE I EVER DONE TO DESERVE

[hinamie]

NOT THE ASSET SHOP SHOWING ME THE PERFECT FUCKING HYDRANGEA/BUSH BRUSHES NOW AFTER EVERYTHING FUCK U FUCK U FUCK U ILL CRY

[hibiscuswrites]

Not sure if you allow this but I love your Crybaby series on your other blog and was wondering if you could do a Ghost and Price HC for how they react to crybaby!reader trying to make them sleep in the guest room because she's mad at them for missing another date

**As an overly sensitive cry baby Pisces I love doing these so it's absolutely allowed 💕 Also be gentle I've only written for them twice now 🥺**

He's not happy

He already feels like shit

Seeing the puffiness of your eyes when he walks through the door 4 hours late and finds you sitting on the couch watching TV all by yourself

He'll sigh and come up to you, reaching down to grab your chin

And feel a pang when you shift your face just out of his reach

"Don't touch me, please."

The raspiness of your voice that comes with a long cry plus those words hurt just the same as any blade or bullet he's taken

He'll stand there silently for a beat, trying to figure out what to do next

Because all he wants is to gather you into his arms and apologize

But not touching you?

It's cruel and unusual punishment, that he unfortunately deserves

He'll keep his hands to himself per your request, but that doesn't mean that they don't itch at his sides as he keeps them balled into fists to refrain from ignoring your wishes

He'll apologize, telling you that he's sorry

That he tried so hard to get home on time

That Price even tried to speed things up

But that time got away from him

And he'll make it up to you

But you've grown tired of what feels like another empty promise

And with a sniffle you wipe away another tear, getting up from the couch and making your way to the bedroom

"I'm going to bed."

He'd be hot on your heels, ready to get undressed and shower quickly to then hop in beside you and cuddle you close once you fall asleep

But your hand on his chest stops him

"Alone. I set the guest room up for you already."

His brain would short-circuit

Alone??

Half of him would want to give you the privacy you're asking for

But the other half says no chance in hell is he letting you sleep alone so you can cry yourself to sleep over him

"Come on, love. Don't be like that. I'll stay on my side, yeah? Won't even know I'm there."

And against his better judgment, he'd reach out and place his hand on your side, thumb rubbing soothing circles

He'd see your resolve crumbling and wiggle his way in, both hands on you now as he tugs you into him

"Let me put you to bed. Show ya how sorry I am."

He'd wince as he walked in the front door to find everything off

TV, lights, everything

You'd even turned off the little light above the stove that you usually left on for him to get around without tripping

Not even that was on

And he knew he was in for it

You'd planned this date out for weeks

Even sent him a selfie once you were all done getting ready

And he'd never even gotten the chance to see it until he got in the car, hours after the fact

He knew he would have to do some serious groveling once he got in bed with you, and he was fine with that

Nothing his mouth couldn't fix

So his surprise was endless when he grabbed the door handle to the bedroom and found it locked

"Sweetheart?"

Your lack of a response would make him knock gently as he rested his forehead against the door

Surely you locked it because you were afraid to be home alone with an unlocked door

So your sharp voice coming through the door would startle him

"Go away. You can sleep in the guest room since you don't like to spend time with me."

He'd stare at the door for a handful of seconds before chuckling, positive that you were only being a brat

"Come on, my love. Enough of this now. Open up so we can talk."

And he'd genuinely expect you too

Never once had you ever asked him to sleep in the guest room

But apparently, he had missed one date too many

"I'll talk to you tomorrow. Leave me alone and let me sleep."

He'd jiggle the doorknob a few times and then it'd be silence

And you'd figure he finally went to lie down in the spare room

Only for the knob to jiggle again, the sound of metal scrapping, and then the door to open, some gadget in his hand as he stepped into the room

A sheepish grin on his lips

"Not sleepin' anywhere other than right next to my baby."

General taglist

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[spicy-pigeon]

what have i ever done to deserve this cruel and unusual punishment

[desultory-novice]

Long, serious post incoming!

One of the things that makes Magolor so appealing as a character is the way in which he "defrosts" over the course of the game.

He presents as a good, harmless, and quirky stranger that is easy to like. But of course, this is a mask. What we find out about the "true" Magolor on first glance, is that he's actually a greedy, manipulative villain who doesn't give a damn about people who helped him!

An awful story! If only it ended there... (You see what I did?)

But Magolor's manipulative traits are as much of a mask as his fun-loving good guy buddy side! He's neither completely altruistically giving of himself nor a complete arsehole. He's selfish and self-interested in his goals, yes, but he's able to recognize kindness.

It's just that his flaws mean he has trouble being honest with others (quite likely because he feels much less powerful, successful, and confident than he'd like to be) so he reacts defensively first. In his case, his method is to fake a smile (remember that the design team purposefully hid his mouth so we could only see half of his expression at any given time) and sprinkle in lies and false enthusiasm to protect his fragile ego by seeming "nice."

Magolor's melodramatic defensiveness is an exaggeration of some very real and very potent human flaws. Flaws we had never seen before in Kirby. King Dedede and Meta Knight, in their antagonist days, were more like Saturday morning cartoon villains. With big, silly flaws that you could either laugh along with or laugh at.

Magolor is more funny "...uh oh.." than funny "haha!" Especially because his flaws get him into so much trouble. (One of the beautiful things about the fact that he has a permanent smile once the Crown gets ahold of him is it emphasizes that what you see on the surface isn't always Magolor true feelings. He wouldn't REALLY be smiling in such a situation. So we're asked to consider what other things he said with his smiling eyes that he was secretly frowning about....)

Just like how his flaws are exaggerated, his punishment for his lying dishonesty is also exaggerated to the Nth degree. And yet, it's cathartic to see this play out. In certain theatre traditions, the makeup the actors wear is actually rather ugly from up close. Because it's not meant to be seen up-close. From a distance though, this dramatic makeup allows you to make out the evocative expressions of the actors you wouldn't see otherwise.

From the safe distance of fiction, we can watch Magolor get his ugly and immediate "comeuppance" for what happens when you're a hu~ge jerk to people just trying to help you. Such that, while none of us would (hopefully) ever go through what he went through, the message we receive from across the screen is more subtle.

"If you'd only stopped and turned around before you did that bad thing..." "You should have just asked for help instead of hurting them..." "They would have been your friends, you know..."

And thankfully, his story doesn't just end with, "and then the bad man exploded and everyone was happy again!" (Well, the end movie almost gives you that impression! XD ) But again, there's subtlety there. Magolor isn't just the bad example to show you what not to do.

Because his suffering is portrayed as so cruel and unusual, he is made shockingly empathetic. Such that we are not just shown the steps to take if we don't want to end up like him, we're shown that the people who've done us wrong might have just been horribly clumsy at human interaction like him.

They might also be feeling immense amounts of regret and are unable to say it. Or don't feel like they deserve an apology or would ever have theirs accepted. Their own personal "crown" (their thoughts) muffling their ability to say "I'm sorry" or "I need help."

Eventually, through a powerful combination of getting help from others AND helping himself, Magolor able to rise above and remake himself, winding up on a far happier path. And the best part is? Even then, he's STILL not "perfect!"

Manager Magolor likes his surprises and his slightly off-putting jokes. Because...it's not possible to rid oneself of all their flaws. To be flawed is to be human. Pursuing perfect isn't a feasible goal. (Perfection on a human level is not even definable...) We can't even pursue "perfect" happiness. But we can pursue contentment – with who we are now compared to who we were in the past.

As a character, he is the lesson, the solution, and the ideal all in one.

That is one of the many reasons I love him so much.

...

...

...Also, he is just SOOOO cute?! His little egg-like body! The way he talks in those little chirpy noises? How animated he is?! His flair for the dramatic?! Even his color scheme! Those are all great too!

Honest question for Magolor Fans, why do you like him so much? I wanna hear your opinions.

[princessasmosprincess]

Charmed, I'm Sure

Chapter 14

Summary: No human has ever avoided Asmodeus's charm. Except for you.

Pairing: Asmodeus x GN Reader/MC

Genre: Drama, angst

Warnings: Canon typical innuendo/suggestive content, blood, lingerie mentioned.

***

Asmo partied hard at The Fall that night. And why shouldn't he? It was his first night of freedom. There were no older brothers to ruin his fun, no hot but boring sorcerers to order him around, and no human exchange students to make him feel insecure about himself.

He lost count of how many bottles of Demonus he’d had, the expensive gold stuff of course (not that he’d have to pay for it, being one of The Fall’s best customers). It was a celebration, after all. A night of lovely hedonism. Dancing and debauchery.

Some witches even got together in one of the back rooms of The Fall to put a curse on the demon who’d attacked you that night three weeks ago. It was a fitting penalty for the one who’d been the cause of Asmo’s cruel and unusual punishment at the hands of Lucifer. Asmo had no idea what the curse they cast would actually do, but he watched on in pride for his most devoted fans. And he would have been remiss not to at least reward each of them with a passionate kiss on the mouth for their dedication. He was a benevolent Avatar of Lust.

He stumbled back to the House of Lamentation hours later, wasted and covered in glitter and confetti. He’d missed that feeling of coming home sticky and sweaty and utterly exhausted, basking in the afterglow of all the naughty things he’d done. This was the way he deserved to live. He showered quickly and (after completing his skincare routine) practically face-planted his silky pillow.

Too soon he was awoken by Lucifer shaking his shoulder.

“Asmo, it’s time to get up.”

Asmo groaned.

“Come on, you’ve already missed breakfast, it’s almost time to go to RAD.”

“Not today, I’ll just skip it.” He sunk deeper into the plush comforter.

Lucifer grabbed him by the ankles and ripped him from the comfy bed.

“Hey!” Asmo rubbed his hip where he had thudded to the floor.

“You have fifteen minutes to join us downstairs or I’ll be stringing you up in the foyer for the next 24 hours.” Lucifer stomped off.

Asmo wouldn't let his skin suffer from treatment like that, not when he was back on the market, so to speak. Thanks to Barbatos’ hangover relief tea and a quick restorative potion Solomon had taught him to make (those three weeks of work weren’t a total loss after all) he made it to RAD as bright and vibrant as ever.

Later in the day, he caught you peering around the corner in one of the corridors between classes as if you were looking for someone. How adorable. He did love that natural innocence all humans had before they were corrupted. He just had to talk to you.

“Oh, MC,” he crooned.

You turned around, a lovely smile lighting your face. “Asmo, I was just looking for you.”

“Is that right?” He said. Already feeling his ego inflating. “Well it seems fate is on your side today.”

Asmo had his eyes locked on yours now. He was still riding his high from the night before. He knew he would not fail this time.

“Let’s walk to class together, MC,” he said sweetly.

“Ok,” you said. Your eyes flashed silver for a brief second, almost like lightning. That was odd, usually it would be a gentle pink color. But he would unpack that later. Now you stared at Asmo as if you were seeing him for the first time. A dreamy smile played on your lips. “You know I never noticed it before, Asmo. Your eyes are the color of the sunset in the human world.”

“Are they?” Asmo had been told this many times before but it never got old. He liked where this was going, but just to be sure he kept you talking. “Do you miss it there terribly?”

Your own eyes, hazy as if you were drunk, never left his. They flashed again. He studied them now, they truly were a lovely color. One of these days he would have to find nail polish in that exact shade.

“Not so much anymore,” you said, coming closer. “Not since I met you.” Your cheeks colored just a little. “Asmo, I want you.”

Yes.

That was exactly what Asmo wanted to hear. He couldn't help but grin triumphantly. He had thoroughly charmed you.

You started unbuttoning your uniform.

“Patience, my dear,” said Asmo with a little laugh. As much as he wanted you right now, it wouldn't be as comfortable or romantic to do it at RAD. Plus, Lucifer would murder him if he ever found out. Asmo’s room, though, was fair game. It was a sanctuary for love. “Dessert is more delicious when you wait.”

You looked up at him with puppy dog eyes. “Ok…”

You were simply adorable, he thought his demon heart would melt. “We’ll have all the time in the world when we get back to the House of Lamentation. I’ll have Little D Number 5 prepare my room for us.” It would be easy to bribe the little demon, they gave into temptation so readily. Asmo was already mentally picking out lingerie that would look perfect on you.

He offered you his hand.

The silver flash in your eyes strobed as soon as you touched him and you stumbled. Asmo initially thought you had tripped.

“MC?” Asmo caught you by your arms. “Are you ok?”

“I’m fine, I just lost my balance,” you reassured him with a smile. “I’m falling for you, Asmo.”

“Is that so?” He leaned in, cupping your cheek. One little kiss before class wouldn't hurt.

He smelled it before he saw it. The metallic scent of human blood. He pulled away just as his lips ghosted yours. Something wasn't right.

“A-Asm-mo?” Your nose started gushing blood.

“MC!” He scrambled to find the pink, rose-scented, lace handkerchief he always kept in his pocket.

Right as he was handing it to you, your eyes rolled back and you started to go down.

“No,” He whispered. Asmo looked around. The two of you were all alone in the corridor. Your head lolled to the side and he saw that your complexion was ashen. He shook you by your shoulders. “MC?” You weren’t responsive. Asmo’s heart sank to his stomach. He needed help. “MC, stay with me!”

Asmo scooped you into his arms, cradling your head against his chest and then he started running. He couldn't hold you and reach his D.D.D. at the same time. Lucifer and Diavolo had a free period this time of day, he hoped they were in the student council room.

Tears were streaming down his face now as he took the stairs two at a time. Was this his fault? All he’d done was try to charm you as he'd done many times before. But as soon as you’d touched him you collapsed. He held you tighter, trying to dab your nose with the handkerchief to clean up the blood. The only human he’d been close with in the last thousand years was Solomon. Solomon with his wisdom. Solomon with his protective talismans and spells. You didn't have any of that. You were just MC. Humans were typically such fragile creatures with short lifespans. Was yours already coming to an end?

Asmo kicked the student council room door open. Lucifer and Diavolo were poring over paperwork of some kind, while Barbatos served tea.

“Asmo, why aren't you in cla–” Lucifer stopped short when he saw your limp form in Asmo’s arms.

“We were walking to class together and they just collapsed,” Asmo cried. “They started bleeding– and now they won't wake up! I don't know what to do!”

Lucifer’s chair clattered to the floor. Faster than a blink he swept you from Asmo’s arms and pushed past him.

“Barbatos, go with him.” Diavolo commanded. “You have my permission to do whatever you deem necessary for MC.”

Wordlessly, Barbatos stalked after Lucifer, leaving Asmo and Diavolo in the student council room.

Asmo fell to his knees.

The way you had turned around earlier and smiled at him at the sound of your name. It had nearly taken his breath away. Would that be the last time he saw your smile?

He hadn't taken a moment to enjoy it. Instead he’d let his selfish pride overtake him. No. His selfish Lust. He just had to charm you one last time. A litany of missed opportunities flashed through his mind. The two of you could have simply gone to class together. You could have eaten lunch together and later Asmo could have done your nails or invited you to his room for a spa night. Anything would have been better than this.

“I sh– should– I should call S-Solomon,” Asmo’s body was racked with sobs as he tried to pull out his D.D.D. “He-he’ll know what to do.” Asmo hoped. His hands shook, still sticky with your blood. Eyes blurred by tears, he couldn't make out the buttons on the touchscreen.

“I can do it,” said Diavolo. He helped Asmo up from the floor and pulled him into a one arm embrace as he dialed Solomon’s number.

Normally Asmo would have remarked about how broad the Demon Lord’s chest was or how safe he felt to be encircled in his big, strong arms, not having to worry about Lucifer or the rest of his brothers scolding him. Instead, Asmo wept into Diavolo’s school uniform.

There was a question in Solomon’s voice as he answered the call. “Asmo? What’s going on? You’re supposed to be in art class right now.”

“This is Diavolo calling from Asmo’s D.D.D.”

“Lord Diavolo? Did something happen?”

Diavolo squeezed Asmo’s shoulders. When he spoke, his tone was firm and princely. “Something is wrong with MC. As another human and an excellent sorcerer, we require your assistance at the House of Lamentation.”

“What happened to them?” Solomon asked, his voice tense.

“I’m not sure. Asmo carried them to the student council room, unconscious. That’s as much as any of us know.” That explained why Diavolo was using Asmo’s D.D.D. The line was silent for a moment. “Solomon?”

“I’ll go over there right now.” He finally answered.

“Thank you.”

After he hung up with Solomon, Diavolo said, “Should we let your brothers know, too?” Diavolo already knew how special you had become to Lucifer’s family. You were special to him too.

“Th-the ones with pacts probably a-already know.” said Asmo, wringing the bloodied handkerchief. “That just leaves S-S-Satan.”

“Do you really think it was that bad?” Diavolo asked. He’d always known there were certain risks to enrolling humans in the RAD program and having them live in the Devildom, but he didn’t think humans were that delicate.

“I don't know,” Asmo sniffed. “The way th-they crumpled in my arms…” He couldn't finish the sentence, weeping once more.

“Come on, Asmo,” said Diavolo, already beginning a text in the student council’s group chat to dismiss them from class for the rest of the day. “Let’s get you home.”

***

Cross-posted on AO3

[gch1995]

HELP! I saw a post that compared Obi-Wan to Jesus! What is, in your opinion, the most fucked up thing Obi-Wan’s done??

Oh, while he was never horrifyingly evil at his worst, Obi-Wan Kenobi was far from a saint that so many of his stans paint him as either. He’s had quite a few shitty moments. He was generally a pretty terrible guardian, friend, and mentor to the Skywalker boys. Also, just not a very good person in general.

The worst moments he had would have to be:

• Cutting off Anakin’s organic limbs and leaving him to burn alive in agony on Mustafar-Anakin deserved to be stopped and held accountable for his crimes, but what Obi-Wan did here was just cruel and unusual punishment. He knew it, but he was too cowardly and vindictive to end Anakin’s suffering more swiftly when he had the chance.

• Using Padme, a defenseless pregnant woman, as live bait to lure Anakin into a position that would make it easier to execute him on Mustafar without her consent or knowledge-I get that Anakin was in an unhinged state at that point and needed to be stopped. However, Obi-Wan also knew that Anakin loved Padme deeply. He knew that she would be the last person that Anakin would ever be willing to physically endanger or harm. Considering she was pregnant with his kids, he would have reason to assume that she was one of the last people that Anakin still trusted. He knew that Padme was pregnant with Anakin’s kids.

Yet, he decided to further provoke an already unhinged Anakin by using Padme as bait to lure him into a trap that put him in a position that would make it easier for him to kill him for Yoda without Padme’s consent and knowledge. It doesn’t mean Anakin’s blameless for recklessly force choking Padme unconscious in a blind rage and paranoia like that on Mustafar. Regardless of the compromised sanity, Padme would still have had every right to hate him for doing that. However, between the two of them in that scene, Obi-Wan comes across as the more stable aggressor of that conflict, while Anakin was grappling with his sanity, really didn’t want to fight Obi-Wan, and probably could have been convinced to get back on that ship with Padme or surrendered to Obi-Wan if his friend and mentor hadn’t been trying to bait him into a conflict.

• Letting Anakin speak alone with Palpatine from the time he was a child under his care, in spite of suspecting he was shady. Then, enabling the Council’s decision to let Anakin join them, just so that they could use him as a spy with that friendship between him and the Chancellor in Revenge of the Sith, even though he knew it was wrong. Still, having the nerve to baselessly accuse Anakin of using his friendship with the Chancellor to get a seat as master on the Council afterwards- Obi-Wan wasn’t in the room when Anakin and the Chancellor were speaking. It was not his place to presume that Anakin used his friendship with the Chancellor to get a seat on the Council, which he didn’t. Even if he did, though, it sounded like victim blaming for Obi-Wan to be guilt tripping Anakin for having a friendship with the Chancellor that he and the Council, his guardians, allowed and encouraged for him to have from the time he was a child under their care to protect their public reputation in the Republic and to spy on him for their own benefits, in spite of their suspicions of Palpatine’s shadiness. He knew it was a bad idea for the Council to vote on letting Anakin have a seat, just so that they could use him as a mole to commit treason against Palpatine, but he still carried out their orders to Anakin because he was too much of a cowardly kiss ass to put his foot down and say no.

• Faking his death for a mission and disguising himself as Rakko Hardeen with Anakin because “he was too untrustworthy,” and then guilt tripping Anakin for getting reasonably pissed off about it after finding out- If a parent, family member, friend, or guardian ever pulled the shit that Obi-Wan did with Anakin in the Deception arc on me, then I would cut them off, and stop speaking to them forever. That’s not just an innocent misunderstanding. That’s emotional/psychological abuse.

• Encouraging Anakin to quit worrying about his mother the Jedi Council and Republic left in slavery when he has visions of her in danger, even though it is a fact that they could easily be true, which Obi-Wan knows well-Just bad advice from Obi-Wan that also would have made me cut off someone who ever did something like that to me in real life, too.

• Deceiving and manipulating an innocent Luke Skywalker to try to make him a weapon to finish off the monster of a man he and Yoda inadvertently helped turn his father into two decades earlier-It’s just fucked up to use an innocent man to clean up a mess with his biological father and the Empire that he had no hand in contributing to the creation of. Then, to never even express any signs of regret for it, even in the afterlife, makes it all the worse. At least, Anakin seems to learn to his lesson in the end for Luke. I can’t say the same thing about Obi-Wan and Yoda.

• Voting on Ahsoka’s Execution: The only reason why this one is not higher is because, though the evidence was not that great, I can see why Obi-Wan would doubt her innocence after Barriss framed her. At the very least, they took the trial to the Senate. Still very shitty.

• Shaming and dismissing Anakin for having his own opinions and trying to be a good person by just being himself- Yeah, he wanted him to be a perfect Jedi™️, but that entire lifestyle in the prequels was invalidating and unhealthy.

• His blind hypocrisy- Obi-Wan is very much the teacher of “do as I say, not as I do,” and Anakin clearly learned from example over 37 years in both the Jedi and Sith from those with positions of authority over him.

• The fact that he decided to honor Qui-Gonn’s dying wish to take on Anakin as a padawan, but then spent the rest of his life outright disrespecting his late master’s and his closest friends more balanced, compassionate, idealistic, open-minded, and understanding examples at their best to be Yoda’s blind ass-kisser to get on the Council and fit in repeatedly at all costs instead-Yeah, the Order is a cult that discourages individual emotional/psychological growth in the prequels. Qui Gonn was also corrupt in the way he only took an interest in little Anakin in the first place in his desire to use him as a weapon to destroy the Sith. It’s not just Obi-Wan’s fault he grew up to be that much of an infuriatingly close-minded ass-kissing conformist, but I also find him to be the most difficult Jedi of the prequels to empathize with for being that way because he actively put in an effort to not be anything better than that because he saw that trying to be a good person by trying to be true to themselves and explore possibilities outside of Yoda’s and the Council’s approval didn’t get Qui-Gonn, Anakin, or Ahsoka ahead in the Order.

All of Obi-Wan’s closest relationships were with emotionally-driven people, who, at their best, put in real efforts to be truly kind, spontaneously selfless, and self-motivated heroes for others in the galaxy who they felt needed their compassion and help because they genuinely cared about making a difference for the better, not just because it meant getting ahead or fitting in with the elites who held positions of authority over them in those organizations. It’s just difficult for me to empathize with a character who repeatedly rejected every opportunity he had to self-reflect and self-improve from Qui-Gonn’s, Anakin’s, Ahsoka’s, and Luke’s examples at their best, even though they were the closest to almost having true friends he ever got, so that he could suck up to the cold, close-minded, and elitist Yoda and Jedi Council who really never gave a shit about him or anyone outside of their pre-determined “greater good.”

I get that all the Jedi of the old Order and Republic were guilty of throwing away their agency, consciences, friendships, and relationships to serve corrupt authority figures with positions over them in public because they couldn’t feel safe saying no, and it’s not entirely their fault they grew up to be deeply dysfunctional adults. However, Obi-Wan is one of those old Jedi who rub me the wrong way the most for displaying that attitude in the prequels because he’s genuinely the most complacent with being Yoda’s and the Council’s close minded and subservient ass-kisser at all costs in public and private, and he makes an active effort to not self-reflect and self-improve because he sees it won’t get him ahead or fit in over and over again. While Anakin, Ahsoka, Qui Gonn, Ezra, and other more open-minded Jedi are more vulnerable to the dark side for wanting better outside of just Yoda’s and the Jedi Council’s boundaries in the prequels, they still have moments of self-reflection, they still have individual desires and needs outside of just the Order’s boundaries. They’re not comfortable in the Jedi Order, and while the ones who went dark were morally wrong to perpetuate crimes against them all for the Sith in their fear of the unknown, they weren’t wrong about deserving better than Yoda and the Jedi Council.

Most people in their positions in real life, in spite of all the grooming to be submissive to cult leaders and corrupt authority figures, would not feel truly comfortable being that way. Most would ask questions. Most would at least try to make an effort to be their own person with their own beliefs, ideals, interests, and motives outside of just their cult, even if they were too afraid to go public with it. Obi-Wan almost consistently makes an active effort to have no personal aspirations, identity, or life outside of just the Jedi Order. While it is tragic that he never felt confident enough to be someone outside of just Yoda and the Council, I find that really difficult to relate to because it’s not very realistic. Not to mention the fact that he was closest to people who genuinely cared about being good for something greater than just Yoda’s and the Council’s validation.

Like, why take on Anakin as a padawan to honor his master’s dying wish at all, if he only ever planned to dishonor his memory by making an active decision to be the type of Jedi that Yoda and the Council encouraged him and their recruits to be to fit in and get on the Council instead?

• His fighting style of baiting opponents into duels by egging them on and using their weaknesses against them-I know some people think it’s so cool that Obi-Wan is willing to bait his opponents into duels because it shows cunning and intellect, but it strikes me as a cowardly, dishonest, and dirty type of fighting technique in battle. He can’t just be clean, honest, fair, and direct when fighting his enemies. Obi-Wan always has to make it a game. Sure, later on Anakin attempts the same thing at times as Vader, but he also never got away with it. Obi-Wan kind of did because he was the “hero.”

If anyone who I follow wants to add any more, they’re welcome to:

@tragicfantasy-girl

@leias-left-hair-bun-again

@the-chosen-anakin

[emeraldiis]

Mirrorball // I

A/N: there will be a part two!! dont worry!!

AO3 Link

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 2.9k

Summary: Reader hides her insecurity under a guise of unwavering happiness, but Loki ends up finding out the truth. Meanwhile, Loki struggles with feeling worthy of love.

Warnings: suicidal ideation, insecurity, misunderstandings, angst

Loki wasn’t sure why you lived with the Avengers. Sure, you were one hell of a good cook, and you bartended at Tony’s numerous parties, but surely you could do that while having a place of your own. Normally, Loki wouldn’t have given a second thought to where somebody chose to reside--even if he couldn’t understand people’s willingness to be anywhere near Stark--but you were driving him insane.

When Loki had first arrived at the tower, it had been a cruel and unusual punishment. House arrest at the very place that he suffered a humiliating defeat, with the very heroes that had defeated him. Of course, not many people were very welcoming. He was permitted to roam about the tower as long as he stayed on good behavior, but that didn’t mean all residents were alright with it. 

Stark was the easiest to deal with; his jokes and quips about Loki’s unfortunate ventures to rule, well, anything stung, but the malice behind them faded with every passing day. After all, it had been a long time since New York. Banner and Wanda were another story. They treated him politely enough, but the fear behind their eyes whenever he passed by made something rotten stir in his gut. No matter how much he attempted to redeem himself, people still saw him as evil. A villain.

It seemed as if Steve and Thor were the only ones glad to have him there. The Captain’s open arms had come as a surprise, but Loki was intuitive, and very quickly realized that Steve saw him in the same light as he did the Winter Soldier, Bucky. And in a way, Loki could see the similarities. They had both done awful things--albeit under far different circumstances--and were now working on gaining the trust of the ones kind enough to give them a second chance.

So Loki found himself seeking out Bucky’s company far more often than any of his other acquaintances. It was a strange sort of companionship, but it worked; Bucky usually opted to listen instead of speak, giving Loki the opportunity to ramble on about whatever grievances he held that week. There were usually a lot, and Bucky was the only one who didn’t offer him useless advice. He simply nodded along, fixing Loki with that thousand yard stare until he had finished.

And then, of course, there was you. All smiles and playful energy, with a raunchy sense of humor and a sharp tongue. You were much smaller than him, in terms of height and stature, but he often felt dwarfed when you were in the room. You just took up so much space with that reckless attitude and need for everyone in the room to be laughing. In an odd sort of way, you reminded him of a clown. Not because you were goofy, or funny looking, no. You just...made people smile, held their attention and made it your dying goal to be there for entertainment. 

The first time Loki had seen you, he was quick to notice your easy beauty. It was rare that he found a Midgardian woman to be attractive, but he couldn’t deny that something about you just appealed to him. You weren’t a supermodel, nor were you drop-dead gorgeous in terms of Midgardian standards, but you had a very real-life grace. You didn’t look like those dolled up actresses he often saw on the television, you looked more natural, something that instantly caught Loki’s eye.

He had been reading quietly in the common room of the Stark Tower, having been forced out of his room by Thor to “at least be present, brother.” The other Avengers droned on about petty events while he attempted to tune them out. And then you stormed in, bringing a sense of excitement to the room with your very aura.

You greeted each person individually, making sure no hero was left out, until your eyes settled on him. Loki felt a heat rise in his cheeks under your intense gaze, and shifted uncomfortably. He brushed off the feeling as it simply had been a while since he had spoken to an attractive woman, not wanting to admit to himself the effect your presence had on him.

“New guy, Loki, psycho murderer,” you rattled off, still staring him down. Loki felt as if you were a cat, and he was the poor mouse that you had selected as your new plaything. “Which do you prefer?”

That caught him off guard. While he was still somewhat unfamiliar with Midgard’s social customs, he was at least sure that this was not a normal way to greet a stranger. That, and the disrespect warred with what he was used to: women on Asgard bowing to him, treating him with the dignity that a prince deserved. Despite the surprise, Loki’s aloof outer demeanor was not shaken, and he let the strangeness of it all roll off his back as he replied, “How about ‘God of Mischief?’ Or, if that is a bit too wordy, I would be open to ‘King Loki.’”

 Your eyes lit up, and Loki found himself having to fight back a smile. His unconscious reaction left him feeling confused and slightly frustrated. Why was this mortal girl sending his emotions in a whirl? Loki scrambled for some sort of reasoning that didn’t have him looking pathetic, and settled on the idea that it had been a while since he had bed a woman, and you were particularly attractive. It only made sense that his body would react in ways that he had not expected.

Lost in his head, Loki barely noticed you were speaking again. “I like this one!” You said, clearly excited that he had matched your banter with ease. “New best friend acquired.”

Once again, you had left Loki reeling. Best friend? He wasn’t sure if he had ever had one of those before, and certainly not with someone he had just met. In fact, he wasn’t entirely positive that he even wanted one. Especially in the form of some over-enthusiastic mortal. Before he could protest, you plopped yourself down next to him on the couch. It wasn’t a very big piece of furniture, so when you settled into your seat, you were only a couple inches away from touching Loki. 

He could feel the heat radiating off of your body, and once again, his heart fluttered. The urge to lean into you overwhelmed him, and Loki furrowed his eyebrows. God, had it really been that long since he had been with someone? The frustration at his stupid body for its stupid needs grew, and Loki made up his mind then and there. He would court you, then fuck you, and get over this silly little infatuation. With your earlier outburst at wanting to befriend him, Loki figured that it would be a breeze. With his silvertongue and charming good looks, he would have you squirming under him in no time. Easy.

But, of course, nothing was ever easy for Loki. You had managed to prove him quite wrong over the next few weeks. Your obliviousness to flirting was quite impressive, Loki found, despite even his most direct attempts. Every advance he made was thwarted by complete, and utter ignorance, coupled with the fact that you had probably not taken a single thing seriously in your entire life. 

Loki would compliment you, and you’d grin wolfishly and twist it to make his words sound insulting, then cackling madly. And then was the time he “joked,” about getting you into his bed, to which you burst into a fit of giggles and said, “No way! I don’t want to be the other woman to Bucky!”

Loki had recoiled in bewilderment, and decided that enough was enough. Obviously you weren’t worth the effort, considering you never actually listened to anything he said. He’d just have to find someone who was capable of holding a conversation without turning something into a joke.

But...he couldn’t deny that he was constantly having to fight back a laugh at your remarks, no matter how hard he tried to convince himself that you were annoying, not funny. And even when he had abandoned his plot to seduce you, Loki found himself gravitating towards you. Truth be told, he knew how to be direct, to really get what he wanted, but every time he worked up the courage to just lean in and kiss you...something stopped him. Deep down, he knew that if you actually rejected him, then the game would be over, and something about that just seemed devastating to Loki. So he continued with cat and mouse, letting you deflect his advances time after time, because at least you weren’t actually saying no.

He’d wander in the kitchen while you were cooking, sit down to watch your favorite shows and movies, and had even taken to sitting on the roof with you late at night when neither of you could sleep. Loki couldn’t avoid it anymore. It wasn't a simple attraction that he felt, it was adoration. You, a mortal of all creatures, had captured his interest. Maybe it was your wit. Maybe it was your unshakable happiness, the ability to keep everyone’s spirits up in any situation. Maybe it was the crushing need to protect you, to protect that pure soul from the viciousness of the universe. Whatever it was, you had actually ended up as Loki’s best friend. And somewhere along the line, he had fallen in love.

You sat in the living room alone, knees curled up to your chest on the couch. The four walls of your room had felt confining, like a prison cell that kept getting smaller. Your usual place of refuge would be the roof. But you didn’t dare venture up there like this. With your luck, Loki would find you there, and you weren’t sure if you had the strength to keep up your carefree persona.

Loki had never seen you upset before, never seen you weak. No one had, if you were honest. You fought hard to keep a smile plastered on your cheeks to keep up the appearance of a girl who never faltered with her high spirits. In a way, it wasn’t entirely fake. Joking around and being joyous was your real personality, but it was also a defense mechanism. If you never took anything seriously, nothing would ever hurt. At least, that’s what you kept telling yourself. The anxiety that wrecked your brain stayed constant, though, making your life a constant war with your own mind.

Your friendship with Loki was a fragile one, or at least it felt that way. You often felt as if you were walking on eggshells; every word that came out of your mouth risked driving him away. He had seemed to enjoy your wild and snarky personality when you first met him, so you didn’t dare try to be anything else. You were afraid that he would lose all interest when he discovered that you were just as fragile as all mortals were.

It was risky having your breakdown out in one of the main rooms, but the risk was better than dealing with the claustrophobia of your lonely bedroom. Besides, it wasn’t like you were going to sleep anyway. Better to just wait for daylight where you could at least feel some modicum of safety.

In your misery, you had forgotten that Loki was not an easy being to hide from. You were pretty sure that it was damn near impossible, actually. He seemed to...sense...your emotions, when you were in distress. And though you never showed it, kept that unwavering smile plastered across your face, he always appeared when you needed a friend to sit with. Tonight was no different.

Like a shadow, Loki emerged from the hallway in front of you, piercing eyes quickly landing on your curled up form in the darkness. He raised an eyebrow at you when you refused to even acknowledge him. “Dear, would you like to go up to the roof? Away from prying ears?” He offered.

You shook your head, and shrunk further into yourself when he crossed the room to sit next to you. Loki looked a little uneasy, as it was rare that you were silent. Usually, he had to fight to get a word in when you were on a tangent. Not that he minded too much. Though he liked to talk, he held a certain fondness for listening to you.

Loki tried again to engage you. “Why not? I know it’s a bit chilly tonight, but you’ve never minded that before."

It was clear that the god wasn’t going away until you gave him some kind of response, so you gritted your teeth and lied. “Sorry, bud. I just feel sick, that’s all.” You forced a laugh, but it sounded strained. “I’d rather stay close to the bathroom. I’m not sure Tony would be too excited if I puked on his roof.”

Blue eyes stared into yours, and you could literally feel Loki not believing you. Of course the God of Mischief would be able to spot a lie from a mile away. Still, he didn’t push the subject, something that you were grateful for. “Alright,” he said, leaning back into the couch. “Would you like me to sit with you?”

Fuck, you didn’t want to have to reject his company a second time, but you really needed to be alone right now. Loki seeing you have a meltdown would be the last straw, and you’d just end up throwing yourself off of the Stark Tower. No, it was better this way. “That’s okay, you get some rest. I’m not gonna keep you up for something so small.” You still hadn’t looked up, afraid that Loki would see the glimmer of tears threatening to spill out of your eyes. “Besides, you need your beauty sleep,” you tried to tease, but your voice came out flat and dull.

Loki thought for a second, then sighed. “As your king, I override your decision. I will be staying here until you’re feeling well enough to sleep.” He waited expectantly, obviously ready for you to make some bratty quip about not being one of his subjects, but it never came. You just didn’t have it in you.

Now that Loki had fully sunk down on the couch, his body was only inches from yours. You wanted so badly to lean into the heat of his side, to bury your face in the crook of his neck and let him cuddle your fears away. Instead of following your instincts, you squashed the daydream like a pesky bug. Nothing about Loki indicated that he was the cuddling type. Hell, he’d never so much as hugged you. He probably wasn’t a big fan of physical touch.

Deep breaths, you told yourself. Just keep it together until you’re on your own. That’s when you stiffened. Loki had stretched a long arm around you, and was looking at you intently to gauge your reaction.

“Is this okay? Humans are very social creatures, touch can help provide some comfort if you’re feeling ill.”

Loki’s scientific approach to the entire situation almost made you break out into laughter. Almost. Regardless, it was too hard to resist when you had such an open invitation. You scooted closer to the god and leaned against him, letting Loki hold you tight.

Before you could even try to stop yourself, you had burst into sobs. Something about being held had just broken the dam, and you were weeping uncontrollably into Loki’s shirt, sputtering out apologies all the while.

Loki shushed you and held you tighter, and you could’ve sworn that you felt an aura of possessiveness in his embrace. “It’s okay,” he murmured into your hair. “I’m here to help.”

You didn’t know how long you cried for, but when you were finally able to rein in the tears, you were horrified. Loki’s shirt was soaked with snot and tears, and your face was most definitely swollen and blotchy with red spots. And, worst of all, you had just proven to him that you were weak, and not worth his time. This was a disaster. 

Loki, hearing your sniffling come to a stop, pulled away to look at you, and bit his lip nervously before beginning to speak. “There’s something I must confess to you. Seeing you now, trusting me with your vulnerability-”

You cut him off by jumping up from your seat, knocking his arms away from you. Like hell you were going to listen to the rest of his rejection. You already knew what he was going to say. That you were weak, that he no longer wanted anything to do with you. “Listen, Loki,” you snarled, unable to mask the pain in your voice. “You don’t have to say it, I get it. I’m gonna go to bed, you don’t have to hang out with me anymore,” you said, rushing to get the words out before you died from humiliation.

Loki watched in bewilderment, his words of affection dying on his lips and you turned tail and ran out of the room. Rejected? By a mortal? He had never known such embarrassment. And you hadn’t even had the good graces to let him finish. His heart began to darken with rage and shame. Of course you ran away, of course you didn’t want to be with someone like him. No one did, he should be used to this kind of treatment by now. How foolish of him to think that you would be any different.

[jungshookz]

ok so like y/n hanging out with her friends at an ice cream shop and super cute employee kook so happens to make y/n very nervous

➺ pairing; jeon jungkook (birthday boy!!!) x reader

➺ genre; marshmallow fluff level fluffy!!!! if u have a sweet tooth then this drabble is for you, jimin and taehyung are nightmare friends and i don’t know why u insist on hanging out with them all the time, *clown nose honk* 

➺ wordcount: 3.5k

➺ what to expect;  “i’ve been giving you free ice cream for the past four months, y/n. you really didn’t think, at any point, that i liked you like that?”

                                      »»————-　♡　————-««

“oh, god. i think you’re going to have to roll me into the car.” you groan as you place a hand over your bloated stomach, “also, i’m… pretty sure i’m nine months pregnant.”  

whoever came up with the whole ‘all you can eat buffet!’ concept must’ve been a psychopath because you feel like if you take another step you’re going to projectile vomit all the way across town

you let out a huff as you bend down and place your hands on your knees

jesus

you’re going to be siCK

“no one asked you to eat like seven servings of mac n’ cheese balls.” jimin raises a brow before rubbing your back in comforting circles

“i’m sorry, do you not hear yourself?” you twist your head before looking at him as if he just sprouted two heads on each shoulder, “mac n’ cheese balls. deep-fried balls of macaroni and cheese. all you can eat deep-fried balls of macaroni and cheese. with a tangy chipotle-ranch dip on the side!”  

“alright, i get it.” he snorts before rolling his eyes, “i’m guessing this means you’re not in the mood for dessert anymore?”

you immediately stand up straight before giving your stomach a couple of pats, “where are we going for dessert??”

you’re ALWAYS in the mood for dessert

your first stomach might be full of food but your second stomach is completely empty

the monster inside your second stomach demands something sweet!

“well, scoops is right across the street. i heard the ice cream there is pretty good!” taehyung chirps before pointing at the ice cream place

you immediately feel your heart fall out of your ass

you usually never say no to ice cream but uh

there’s one reason why you’d prefer to go someplace else

jimin glances back when he notices you’re not following them to cross the street

he raises a brow before tilting his head, “if you actually need to puke, the garbage bin is right the-“

“i’m fine, i just-“ your voice cracks and you clear your throat quickly, “why do we have to go for ice cream?? there’s a frozen yogurt place a couple blocks away… and frozen yogurt is just as good!”

jimin and taehyung exchange glances before the two of them look back at you

“weren’t you the one who said that frozen yogurt was just a sad, watered-down version of ice cream and that the day you asked to go for frozen yogurt was the day we should execute you via cruel, unusual punishment?”

“yeah, and the cruel, unusual punishment was to force you to eat frozen yogurt?”

you poke your tongue against the inside of your cheek

damnit

they’re right

you friggin’ hate frozen yogurt

“ooh, check it out!” jimin gasps, his eyes lighting up, “strawberry-rhubarb pie. i wonder how they turned a pie into an ice cream flavour!”

“uh-huh, yeah…” you mutter absentmindedly, eyes flitting around behind the large counter

okay

okay!

this is fine

everything is fine

maybe today is his day off something!  

hopEfully today is his day off because you are literally about to pop a button on your jeans and the last person who you’d want to have witness that would be-

“good evening, folks!” you practically jump out of your skin and you instinctively duck behind taehyung when he seems to pop out of thin air

he smiles brightly as he props his arms up on the top of the display case, “just give me a holler whenever you’re ready.”

okay

we should probably rewind a little bit

‘he’ would be… well, the person you’re currently hiding from.  

you don’t know much about him besides the fact that his name is jungkook (the name tags here are comically large, by the way. it’s actually a little ridiculous. it’s like the employees think all the customers are blind and that’s why they made their name tags the size of a baby’s head.) and every time you come here he gives you extra hot fudge on your ice cream and also he’s very veRY cute

you usually come here after you finish submitting an essay or doing a live presentation as a way to reward yourself

because why live life if you’re not going to treat yourself every now and again??

you started this tradition at the beginning of the year and originaLLy you went to the only ice cream place on campus

unfortunately, the ice cream place on campus isn’t super great

their waffle cones are always stale and the ice cream pretty much melts as soon as you take a step outside of the store

and you werE going to give up and just find another place (your second option was the ice cream at mcdonald’s but that’s actually kind of sad now that you think about it) but!!!!

you felt like you deserved to have good ice cream!!!

so you googled the best ice cream parlours in the city and scoops was one of the only ones that was the closest to campus

only a ten minute bus ride away and you didn’t even have to transfer to another bus or anything

it was pretty much a dream come true!!

and you still remember the first time you wandered in here because you were greeted veRy enthusiastically by jungkook

you were pretty much the only person in the store on that day because it was like 2pm on a tuesday which made it hard to believe that this place was as popular as it sounded

to be fair, 2pm on a tuesday isn’t really the normal time to grab a cone of ice cream so there’s that

“you’re not striking me as the cookies ’n cream type. that seems a little too basic for you…” jungkook mutters as he stroked at his chin thoughtfully, “and i’m not getting a rocky road vibe from you, either…”

“is that so?” the corner of your mouth twitches in a smile and you cross your arms as you begin to make your way down the counter, jungkook slowly following you from where he’s standing, “what kind of vibe are you getting from me?”

“red velvet cake!” jungkook stops in his tracks to point at the tub of red velvet ice cream sitting in the display case, “in a brownie waffle cone… with hot fudge on top.”

your brows perk up in interest

red velvet cake ice cream

in a brownie waffle cone

with hot fudge on top?

…that sounds like something you’d devour in three seconds flat.  

you obviously ended up enjoying the ice cream, and from that moment on, you promised yourself that this would be your place to celebrate your little victories

so, yeah!

the ice cream was good and the cute boy was just a bonus

of course… there is one tiny detail that has to be addressed

if it wasn’t already painfully obvious by now - jungkook makes you extremely nervous.

you’re not sure how it started, because you were literally fine when you first met him

the nerves appeared without warning of any kind!!

it was very strange

one day jungkook’s smile suddenly made your heart skip a beat and you had nO idea why because it had never done that before

and another time, when he told you that you were his favourite customer, your stomach started doing somersaults which was also something that your stomach had nevER done before

ooh, AND that one time when he said that he’d make a fresh batch of brownie waffle cones just for you… well, you were pretty much ready to marry him right then and there.

sure, when you saw the occasional attractive person on the street, you’d have the usual ‘oh, they’re pretty cute!’ thought, but that’d be it and then you’d never think about them again

but it was different with jungkook

it was more intense with jungkook

this wasn’t just a little schoolgirl crush.,,. this was,.., this was a schoolwoMAN crush

you initially thought that all these brand new feelings combined with the tingly feeling of chocolate syrup pumping through your veins should’ve been enough to scare you away from scoops forever, but…

the only reason why you keep swallowing your nerves and coming back is because the ice cream is really good here (five gold stars on google reviews!!) aND you can’t say no to extra hot fudge on the house!!!

sometimes jungkook surprises you with a couple brownie chunks or marshmallows or even cheesecake chunks on top without ever charging you which is also really nice of him

not to mention, on the days that you end class a little earlier, you like to come here to get some studying done

you have your own little table in the corner and jungkook always brings you a little treat to enjoy during your study session

nothing huGe like your usual red velvet brownie waffle hot fudge combo because you told him that you were only allowed to eat that if you were celebrating something, so he usually brings you a little cup with a random flavour of ice cream in it

strawberry shortcake

cinnamon toast crunch

banana milk is a really good one

and you can’t noT mention the chocolate-covered strawberries ice cream

the ice cream is a tangy strawberry base with swirls of dark chocolate in it and it is truly.,,. truly one of the best things you’ve ever put in your mouth

you just don’t understand why your knees get so wobbly and your palms get sO sweaty every time he flashes that handsome smile of his in your direction

you see plenty of attractive people every day on campus!

you see plenty of attractive people every day in your lectures!

your two friends are a couple of attractive people as well!!

at one point you even had crushes on boTh jimin and taehyung!! 

(you will be taking that information to your grave because if they find out.,,. you’ll never live it down)

so why is this any different??

“so, i’m gonna go with the strawberry-rhubarb pie in a cup… and-“ jimin turns to look at taehyung (and you, currently peeking at jimin over taehyung’s shoulder), “what are you guys getting?”

your eyes widen and you duck down again when jungkook leans over to look at you and taehyung

“i’m gonna go with… the dark chocolate and caramel swirl… in a plain waffle cone.” taehyung nods affirmatively, “yeah. take the order now before i overthink it.”

“one strawberry-rhubarb pie in a cup… one dark chocolate and caramel swirl in a plain waffle cone…” jungkook mumbles to himself as he rinses the ice cream scooper in the little bucket of water before tapping it off on the side, “-and one red velvet cake in a brownie waffle cone with hot fudge on top, right, y/n?”

boTh taehyung and jimin’s heads nearly snap off when they turn to look at you

taehyung steps out of the way and you freeze like a deer in headlights

maybe if you just… stay very still… jungkook won’t see you…

a good two seconds ticks by before you figure that you probably look like an idiot right now

“um-“ you straighten up a little before smoothing your sweater down, “i… yep! that… yep. sounds good.”

jungkook smiles brightly before nodding, “alright! just give me a couple of minutes to get that ready for you guys.”

your heart starts to drum away in your chest as you watch the back of jungkook’s head

even the back of his damn head is attractive

it’s not fair!!!!

“…i feel like there’s something we’re missing here.” taehyung is the first one to speak up and you force out a chuckle before shaking your head

time to do what you do best

D E N Y

“there’s nothing you’re missing here!” you snort, “he just- i’ve been here like, once or twice, so-“

“red velvet cake in a brownie waffle cone with hot fudge on top sounds a little too specific for you to have only been here once or tw-“ jimin pauses and his eyes widen to the size of saucers, “oh my god.”

your brows knit together in concern, “wh- what?”

a smile begins to creep onto jimin’s face and your mind begins to race with what he could possibLy be thinking when suddenly- “you slept with him!” jimin gasps before whacking tae’s arm multiple times, “she slept with him!!!”

“wha- NO- no, i did not sleep with jungk-!” you lower your voice when you realise that there are children in here and you lean in, “i didn’t sleep with him. i just- i come here a lot, and- i don’t know. he’s nice! a-and he’s cute. he’s- he’s nice and he’s cute. and he gives me free things, sometimes.”

“…yeah, i think she’s telling the truth. she definitely didn’t sleep with him.“ taehyung shakes his head and you let out a sigh of relief

at least someone’s on your side here

you jolt when taehyung suddenly gives you a hearty sLAp on the back, “she’s just in love with him and doesn’t know how to tell him-“

OH my go-

“hey, your ice creams are ready for you!” jungkook, once again, seemingly pops out of thin air and the thrEE of you immediately split up the mini football huddle, “i have them for you at the cash register if you wanna come over and get them! y/n, i tried something new with your cone - i wrapped marshmallow fluff around the top and then caramelised it so it’d turn into, like, a s’mores situation-”

“y-yep! i’ll be right there-“ you hold a finger out and jungkook nods before heading over to the cash register

you turn to look at jimin and taehyung and scowl when the two of them begin to make kissy noises at each other

“oh, y/n, come to the back so i can show you my cone-“

“you can fluff my marshmallows any day of the week, jungkook-“

oh, god

see????

this was exaCTLY why you didn’t want to come here!!!!

in case this happened!!!!!

“oh my god, lemme drizzle my syrup all over your face, baby-“

“okay, c’mon, that’s enough-“

“roll me up like how you roll those waffle cones with your big, strong arms-“

jesus christ

children!!!!!!!

they are both chiLdren!!!!

boys are so GROSS

jungkook waits patiently by the cash register as his fingers drum against the marble countertop

he leans over to peek at you and your friends and smiles lightly when he sees you whaCk at one of them

to be honest, he liked you the moment you stepped into the shop for the first time

he still remembers how excited you were when you were looking at all the different flavours

according to the company policy, customers are only allowed to try four samples but jungkook’s pretty sure he let you try twenty samples on that day

after the first time you came here, he was actually pretty worried that he’d never see you again??

he was pretty bummed about it for a while because he wished that he would’ve asked for your number or something while you were here but he was too busy trying to be the charming ice-cream boy anD he was also pretty busy admiring your cute face

so he was very much pleasantly surprised when you came back a week later and was fully ready to let you go ham on the samples again

>:-)

but, again, he didn’t ask for your number that time around either because he couldn’t figure out a smooth way to ask you

and he wasn’t worried about you noT coming back because you seemed like a pretty big ice cream person

the point is: jungkook’s had plenty of opportunities (practically handed to him on a silver platter) to ask for your number so that he can finally ask you OUT and… he hasn’t.

but today!!!!

today will be different!!!!

today he’ll finally make his move!!!

he’s not giving himself an option!!!

he actually wasn’t expecting you in today because you usually pop up every two weeks or so and you came in last week

at first he thought that maybe you were dating one of the boys that you came in with but from the looks of it, the vibes are very much platonic and not at all romantic

so he thinks he’s in the clear here

jungkook straightens his posture and puffs his chest out a little bit when he sees you walking over

okay

operation: finally ask y/n for her number, you pussy is undERWAY

“well, i’m going to go and pay for your guys’ ice creams and you can just continue to make fools of yourselves-!”

by the time you make your way over to the cash register, jimin and taehyung are stiLL going at it but you’re hoping that jungkook won’t pay it any mind

“alright, how much do i owe you?” you ask as you pull your debit card out of your wallet, “this ice cream is the only thing i’m willing to break my wallet over-“

“actually, all of this is on the house today.” jungkook bounces on the balls of his feet for a second, “it’s the special birthday discount!”

?

you tilt your head

what special birthday discount?

“birthday discount?” you ask dumbly, “it’s not my birthday, though.”

“no, it’s not your birthday… but it’s my birthday.” jungkook clears his throat, “and… you know, i wanted to do something nice for you!”

“okay, well, first of all- happy birthday!” you smile brightly before that smile immediately drops from your face, “and, second of all- i can’t take this for free, jungkook- you even sprinkled those fancy toasted pecans on top of taehyung’s ice cream! i have to give you something-“

jungkook swallows his nerves

it’s now or never!

“there is… one thing you could give me…” he trails off, his voice starting to grow a little quiet

okay

the confidence is beginning to dwindle a little so he should probably get to the point 

“yeah, i can think of one thing- like money??” you stick your debit card out again and jungkook rolls his eyes playfully before whacking your hand away

okay

just say it

just say it!!!!!!

“no, not money…” jungkook swallows thickly before shaking his head, “i was thinking more along the lines of… you know, your number.”

you drop your debit card on the countertop with a clatter

“my-“ you cut yourself off mid-sentence and you feel your cheeks immediately turn bright red, “you- you want my number?”

jungkook… jungkook wants your number?

you feel like money would be better than your number, but that’s just your humble opinion

“i mean- you obviously don’t have to give it to me if you don’t want to! i-i’m not trying to imply that you owe me anything, i just-“ jungkook pauses for a second and his tongue pokes out to swipe over his bottom lip nervously, “i just, um, i don’t know! i… i really… enjoy your company, whenever you come in for a visit, you know? and i think you’re really pretty, so there’s that. i dunno.”

well, he can safely say that his self-proclaimed boyish charm flew out of the window as soon as he opened his mouth

why’s he so nervous all of a sudden??

he’s practiced this in front of the mirror a doZEN times

and every time he hits on himself in the mirror he’s tempted to give himself his number

that’s how good he is at flirting!!

but here he is!!! 

fumbling over his words!!! 

shoving his clammy hands into his pockets!!! 

diverting his gaze from the pretty girl who he’s been dreaming about ever since the first time he laid his undeserving eyes on her!!!

“no, no-! i just-“ you smile shyly as you slide your debit card back into your wallet with clumsy hands, “i would absolutely love to give you my number! it’s just that i- i didn’t- i didn’t think that you… liked me like that.”

jungkook looks up at you before scoffing playfully, “i’ve been giving you free ice cream for the past four months, y/n. you really didn’t think, at any point, that i liked you like that?”

you press your lips together before flashing a sheepish smile at him, “i mean… i was probably paying more attention to the ice cream than to you.”  

jungkook snorts

he should’ve seen that coming. 

(p.s. he heard every single word of what your friends said earlier and this is just his dumb icky sleazy boy brain speaking but he’d be down to drizzle his syrup on ur face if you allowed him to) 

help me help you make your wishes come tru (aka send me a request)

requested drabbles masterlist

[karalovesallthegirls]

Avoiding your dearest friend turned worst enemy is significantly more difficult when you’re under house arrest in her apartment. 

She’s fairly certain there are laws against cruel and unusual punishments and yet still they have decided that forcing Lena to spend two months locked in to Kara Danvers’ apartment with what is essentially a killer shock ankle monitor is somehow justified.

“You tried to mind control the world,” Kara supplies, unhelpful as always. “I tried to save the world from itself,” Lena corrects.

Kara just rolls her eyes and tells her to have a good day before leaving for work. Something she still gets to do every single day while Lena is stuck here, alone.

Apparently being an “evil Luthor” means you can’t be trusted around anything more advanced than a microwave. They even shut off Kara’s internet and cable just to be safe. (As if they could really stop Lena from accessing the internet if she wanted to. She just hasn’t wanted to yet.)

So Lena tried to brainwash the entire world, and? She wasn’t Lex, it’s not like she was seeking power or destruction. She wanted to help people – everything she has ever done in her life has been to help people. It’s just that sometimes helping can seem a little evil to people if they lack the right perspective.

Sadly, the DEO does not have the right perspective, and their first vote was to toss her into their highly illegal prison system and lose the key. The only thing that saved her was Kara Danvers, ever earnest in her façade, who argued that Lena could be redeemed. That Lena deserved a second chance. Somehow, that actually worked on the idiots in charge, and instead of vanishing into a system she’d never escape she found herself left alone indefinitely, living on her friend’s couch.

Her former friend’s couch.

Everyone keeps telling her how lucky she is to stay in a nice apartment with all the comforts of home, barring any communication with the outside world and an ankle monitor set to kill if she tries to leave. Better than a jail cell, right? Lena would disagree. She spends every day with the woman who betrayed her in every feasible way, and who is the sole decider of when (or if) she’s allowed to be free again. She’s in Hell.

--

Kara comes home late. It’s the fourth night in a row she’s shuffled into her own apartment well past nine, her head down and shoulders scrunched, acting like a teenager who is far past her curfew. Lena barely even looks up from her book. “Hey,” Kara says softly, and Lena merely hums in acknowledgement. From the corner of her eye Lena can tell Kara’s just lurking at the door, shuffling on her feet trying to decide what to do before finally just heading to the table to put her things down. Lena is hyperaware of her every movement as she stares blankly at the page before her. She tracks Kara as she takes off her coat, as she slips out of her shoes with a small sigh, as she falls into the chair beside the couch. She always sits there these days, close but not too close. She never sits on the couch by Lena, which she’s thankful for. Lena has no privacy, but at least the space she sleeps on every night is hers. As much as anything is hers anymore.

She was allowed a single suitcase of clothes that the DEO carefully scanned for devices, most of which were tossed. She’s a technological genius - of course her entire wardrobe is outfitted with devices. Her toiletries and personal items were purchased for her after they discovered her toothbrush from home could double as a laser knife (it always had that ability, in her defense. It wasn’t for an escape attempt). She has an old National City sweatshirt that is hers alone, a handful of her favorite books, and she has this couch that only she ever sits on. That is the entirety of her property now. She tries not to dwell.

“Did you have a good night?” Kara asks. She’s still trying, even after everything. “I finished my second reread,” she says, holding up her book. “Then spent most of my night reminiscing on all the stories I once had that were stolen from me.”

Kara sighs. “Like I said, if you write down some books, I can get-” “I’d like to go to bed now, I think,” Lena punctuates her words by slamming the book shut. Yet still, Kara just sits and stares at her in that thoughtful way she always does that drives her absolutely batty. It takes a throat clear and a careful eyebrow lift for Kara to get the message and jump up with a stuttered, “Oh! Right yeah, of course,” and shuffle to her side of the open-space loft. As if moving those ten feet make up for the lack of walls, lack of privacy, lack of freedom. Like she doesn’t sense every move Lena makes as she stretches off the couch to grab her blanket.

It’s been days now of this terrible shuffling and still Lena doesn’t understand. Why does Kara even want her here? Kara, who hated her so much she faked a years long friendship just to stay close and watch her. Who asked her boyfriend to spy on her, who lied and manipulated her to the point that she murdered her own brother to keep her safe. Why keep a liability like Lena around?

Why did she fight for Lena to stay under her watch, to have yet another chance after everything she’s done? Nothing about this made sense, and that alone was enough to rattle Lena’s nerves. There had to be a reason. “I put out fresh towels, if you need one,” Kara offers weakly from where she sat on her bed. She looks small and subdued, hands in her lap and shoulders hunched, and worst of all she’s wearing the glasses. Pretending, even here.  It doesn’t make sense.

She can feel Kara watching her from her bed as she goes to wash her face but she doesn’t bother to shut the door. Why bother? She’s Supergirl. She can see through walls if she wants. The thought is a strange one to have while standing in a bathroom, but the moment it hits it begins to spread like a paint drop in a puddle of water. 

A slow expansion of chaotic thoughts, scattered and overtaking until it’s all she can see. Why does Kara want her here? She thinks about their every interaction, about the ways Kara’s eyes linger on her lips, her chest. The way jealousy radiated off her when she met Jack Spheer. The ways Kara would grip her arms, hold her close against her.  And suddenly, like a switch shifting in her brain, it makes sense. Her breathing is coming fast now as memories cascade through her mental vision of every moment they ever spent together. Of a woman who never trusted her enough to tell her the truth, but lusted enough to keep her close. 

“You okay in there?” Kara asks, and Lena can see her reflection in the mirror, watching her from where she sat on the bed. She can see the concern in Kara’s face, the way her eyes drift down briefly to Lena’s heaving chest before jerking back up to her eyes. Slowly with great focus, Lena calms herself. Careful breathing to bring her back to this moment of her, here, trapped with Supergirl’s eyes on her. She stands up a little straighter, puffs her chest up just a bit, acutely aware of her choice of undershirt without a bra. Acutely aware of how Kara’s eyes drift yet again only to look away.  For the first time since this hellish chapter of her life began, some semblance of control shifts back into place within her. “Oh, yes,” she says, voice low and sultry in that way that always causes a reaction -and based on the red in Kara’s face, it’s effective - 

“I’ve never been better.”

[iliveiloveiwrite]

Paths, Avenues, and Secret Tunnels // S.B. (celebration fic)

Request: 6 & 13 from the fluff section with sirius black at hogwarts (location). 💛 - anon

Fluff 6: “Are you... Are you flirting with me?”

Fluff 13: “Compared to you: stars pale, and the moon dulls.”

A/N: Here’s your request! I hope you like! This one got away from me if I'm honest but I struggled with it so much in the beginning that I'm happy I found my flow. I don’t think I’ll be posting a fic tomorrow, I’m not sure yet, I have a ridiculously busy day so who knows! However, as always, I hope you all enjoy!

Pairing: Sirius Black x Fem!Reader

Warnings: mentions of an attempted harassment, swearing, self-defence, shitty parents, BUT THIS IS FLUFF, I PROMISE (there’s even a make out scene for you all)

Word count: 3.3k

Most weekends at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry could usually be spent in the neighbouring, picturesque village of Hogsmeade. Students, in their droves, descended upon the wizarding village – all ready to spent their knuts, sickles and galleons on whatever took their fancy in the array of shops that neatly lined the small high street.

For many of the students in Third Year and above, they relished the chance to spend a whole day outside of Hogwarts. You would have liked to have gone with them, but in a fit of anger your mother and father flat out refused to sign the yearly permission slip meaning that your visits to the small, sleepy village had been put to a stop.

You maintained fiercely that their punishment was unjustified. Your use of magic outside of school was perfectly reasonable considering that the man they had tried to set their daughter up with for an arranged marriage was nothing short of a creep that had to be put in his place.

Your reaction to the unsolicited attention of the repulsive man caused nothing smaller than a war between your parents and yourself. They felt humiliated that you should act such a way in front of a respectable, eligible gentleman who had taken the time out of his busy schedule to come to dinner and meet with you. You felt nothing short of fury at your parents for thinking you would ever go along with archaic traditions that should have died long ago.

It led to your parents taking the one thing that you looked forward to every school year away from you. In front of you, they tore apart the permission slip and threw it onto the fire where you watched as it turned to grey ash.

Your weekends were now spent either in the common room or the library; working on your homework, studying for an exam or simply reading to pass the time. By the fourth Hogsmeade weekend of the year, you had explored the castle enough to attract Filch’s unwanted attention, so you decided to reign in your exploits to the parts of the castle you knew were safest.

The common room had quickly become your safe haven after the third time you were questioned by Filch. Both the morning and afternoon of any Hogsmeade weekend spent reading over any work and napping periodically by the fire.

Stretching out on the couch, you finish reading over your notes from Potions, making a mental note to ask Slughorn whether you could borrow his classroom next weekend to test a theory that had come to you only a few moments ago. Another Hogsmeade weekend and you had made doubly sure to keep yourself occupied through it all – happy to see your friends off; already sick of their pitying looks.

“(Y/L/N)!” Sirius shouts; jumping the back of the couch and settling next to you.

“Sirius, how can I help?” You ask with a smile; turning to face the teenager you’ve known since the two of you were in nappies.

“I can’t help but notice that you haven’t been seen in Hogsmeade for a while now. One can’t help but wonder…”

You laugh, “I’m surprised it’s taken you this long to ask me considering our parents are like this,” You cross your fingers together; indicating just how close the two families were – Sirius’ mother visiting yours for tea at least three times a week.

“What happened?”

You sigh, clutching your book to your chest, “My parents cruel and unusual form of punishment.”

“What?”

You smile at the memory, “I jinxed the guy they were trying to marry me off to, so they tore up the permission slip in front of me and threw it onto the fire in a fit of dramatics.”

“Why did you jinx him?”

“I don’t want to say.”

“What did he do?” Sirius asks; voice low and lethal.

You sigh, “His hands tried to wander under the dining table. They didn’t get very bloody far before he was met with the finger removing jinx,” You huff proudly, “See how far he gets without the counter-jinx, the prat.”

“But you’re okay? You weren’t hurt?”

You shake your head; smiling at the care in Sirius’ voice. “I’m fine, I promise,” You reassure, “However, my parents thought it fitting to tear up my permission slip to Hogsmeade hence why I stay in the castle every weekend.”

Something in Sirius’ chest loosens at your words; happy to know that you’re okay and that you gave the creep what he deserved but he frowns at your parents response. “Did you explain to your parents what he tried to do?”

You fix him with a look that tells him of course you did, “They refused to listen; not someone like him,” Your voice takes on a higher pitch as you mimic your mother, “He’s such a responsible man from a wonderful family – I don’t know how you could do this to him.”

Sirius snorts at your impression; noting how accurate it is. “I’m sorry,” He murmurs.

You wave his apology with a swift movement of your hand, “I’ve gotten used to it now. You wouldn’t believe how on top of homework I am.”

He laughs, “Still, all the same.”

“I know,” You whisper.

Sirius pats your knee; he gestures towards the door with his head where his friends had walked through only a moment ago, “I better…”

You nod, “Of course. Go! Go – have a nice time.”

Sirius throws a small smile your way before he leaves the common room.  

For the first time in the five weekends you had been unable to visit the humble village; you had never hated your parents more.

-------

Sirius Black continues to play on your mind in a way he hasn’t done since your crush on him in Second Year when you were smaller and more naïve. The friendship between you was a lifelong one; families being so close that there was no other option but to get along as your mothers would drink tea and gossip and your fathers would conduct business in offices away from prying eyes and ears.

Your feelings for the elder Black sibling became news to you when you were turning ten years old. You found yourself wondering what it would be like to hold his hand longer and to hug him whenever instead of in greeting or in farewell – innocent daydreams of a child.

Nothing like the daydreams you now found yourself occupied with whenever you happened to find yourself staring at his mouth that little bit too long or when you zoned in on how his hands would run through his long hair and thought about what it would feel like between your fingers.

Your feelings for Sirius Black came surging back; knocking you breathless and leaving you feeling half way mad. He seemed to take over your mind; thinking of him constantly and not all the thoughts completely innocent. From a  simple smile in your direction, he had you feeling like a fool in love. From the smallest piece of attention he could give you, he had your heart in your throat.

Soon enough, you were admitting to yourself that your crush from Second Year had returned stronger than before and that there was no doubt about it. You were arse over tea kettle in love with Sirius Black.

He starts to spend his Hogsmeade weekends with you. Starting slowly; leaving the Marauders every now and then before eventually stopping joining them altogether. They all share a similar look one Saturday when instead of joining them at the door to the common room, Sirius joins you in your familiar spot on the couch.

Sirius waves to James, Remus and Peter as they depart for Hogsmeade; each of them shouting promises of bringing back sweets from Honeyduke’s as well as a surprise from Zonko’s. Sirius shakes his head at his friends before turning his full attention to you.

You smile softly at the disowned heir to the Black family fortune; repressing the growing urge to run your fingers through his hair, to kiss him senseless – to do anything with him really.

“What are the plans for today then?”

You roll your eyes, “You don’t have to do this Sirius, you can go be with your friends.”

Sirius waves his hand in a dismissive fashion, tutting, “I see them all the time. I live with them remember?” He shakes his head, “I like spending time with you.”

You chew on the inside of your cheek to keep your smile at bay, “I was thinking of finishing the book I’ve been reading.”

Sirius throws his head back with an overdramatic groan, “We did that last time!”

“And I’ve started a new book since then!” You sigh, “Like I said, Sirius, you don’t need to stay with me.”

“I want to spend time with you, but we don’t need to spend all our time here,” He says, gesturing to the dark red walls of the common room.

“I’m not bothered here. Every time I left the common room, Filch would always bother me.”

Sirius frowns, “Well we’re going out today,” He pats your leg, standing up, “Come on. Up you get, we’re off on a walk.”

“A walk?”

“A walk. An amble. A dawdle. That thing you do with your legs. Whatever you prefer to call it.”

You snort, “I know what a walk is, Sirius.”

“Then why ask?”

“Don’t make me regret coming with you.”

He grins at you, “Never, my dear.”

Sirius holds an arm out to you which you take; hooking your elbow through his. He sets off at a slow pace; holding the door to the common room open for you like the gentleman he was raised to be before leading you down the corridors.

With most students in Hogsmeade and the First and Second years occupied with a Quidditch training camp being run by the Holyhead Harpies, the corridors of the school are relatively quiet as you and Sirius continue your walk through the school that’s more of a second home rather than a place of education.

“Are your parents still angry?” Sirius asks out of the blue.

“I couldn’t care less though; it was self-defence and I’m happier for it. but you know them; there never was a couple who could hold a grudge like dear old mum and dad.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I reckon I could beat you.”

“How have you been since that night?”

Sirius looks off into the distance; mind immediately returning to the night he had walked out on his family, on Regulus. He had told you about when the school year had restarted after the Easter break.

“Good,” He eventually says, “I’m living with James’ family now. I’ve always been welcome at the Potters.”

You nod; happiness washing over you, “I’m glad you’ve found somewhere, I was worried when you sent me the one letter.”

“I wanted to send more,” He says, voice pained, “But I didn’t know if your parents would be nosy.”

“You were right not to,” You sigh, “Since they heard about our friendship rekindling, they keep looking at me as if I’m going to run any moment.”

“Would you?”

“Would I run away?”

He nods; pausing in his steps. You stop alongside him; thinking over your answer, “It depends. If I have to sit through another arranged dinner and possible marriage, then happily. If my parents suddenly see reason, then perhaps our relationship could improve.”

“How long have they been trying to marry you off?”

“Since I turned seventeen so just over a year since my birthday is one of the first of the year.”

Sirius chuckles humourlessly, “I’m glad I got out when I could.”

You nudge his shoulder, “All it means is that your life has taken a different path, Sirius. But I know whatever you decide to do, it will be the right path. It’s you walking it after all; it can’t be bad if you’re the one walking it.”

Sirius doesn’t reply to your words. He’s too overcome by your words to even think of replying. Out of the fallout from his family, the one thing he was concerned about was how it would affect your relationship with you but when he saw you after Easter and all you did was pull him into a tight hug, he knew that everything would be okay and that you would be going nowhere.

He doesn’t need to say the words out loud to accept them; he knows that he has fallen in love with you. Sirius realises with a jolt that he has most likely always loved you; only coming to the realisation since spending more and more time with you over your parental imposed school grounding.

Sirius doesn’t know what path his life is going to take; he has the Marauders and he knows he has them for life – very little coming between them to split them permanently. But through it all; through all of his late night worrying and upset, Sirius hopes and hopes that your life starts to wander down the same path as his.

By this time, you’ve circled the courtyard, ready to make your way to Hagrid’s Hut and beyond. Both happy enough to now spend the rest of your day dawdling around the castle; talking everything and nothing – simply spending the time with each other. The feelings that are harboured by the both of you simmer in the small space between your bodies; spoken yet unspoken.

The conversation from earlier, and the tension, has dissipated leaving behind a light, fun atmosphere that lets you see the best of Sirius. As a result, he has your heart thumping in your throat to the point where your pulse sounds in your ears.

It’s when he makes one comment about your closeness as children that has a particularly flirty tone and meaning that has your back straightening in realisation, “Are you… Are you flirting with me?”

“I might be…” Sirius comments with a smile.

“Not even you could be so cruel, Sirius, to bring up a childhood crush like that and play with my emotions.”

“What childhood crush?”

“Tell me you knew?”

At the blank expression on his face and the curiosity alive in his eyes, you let out a laugh, “I had the biggest crush on you when we were kids… even when we started Hogwarts I had a crush on you! You had to know, surely?”

He shakes his head vigorously, “I had no idea about it.”

“Oh…” You trail off.

“It was reciprocated if you were wondering.”

You sit up straighter, “It was?”

Sirius blushes; pushing his hair back from his face, “It was.”

Silence falls between the two of you. You’ve both stopped walking; steps paused in the middle of the corridor – hardly any sound around you other than the occasional hoot of an owl and a laugh from a young student. For what feels like forever, you simply stare at each other.

Your stomach turns with anticipation; readying yourself for the question you’re about to ask. Taking a deep breath, you break the silence with a single question, “And what about now?”

“Now?”

You nod, “Are those feelings reciprocated now?”

“They might be…”

“They might be, or they are?” You ask breathlessly; his words setting aflame the hope in your heart.

“They are. They really are.”

“Thank Merlin,” you gasp before pulling Sirius into a kiss by the hem of his t-shirt.

He responds immediately; taking control of the kiss as his lips glide against yours seamlessly. There could no arranged marriage, no relationship you could ever have that could compare to this one moment. In this one instant, all is defined, and you know that at almost eighteen, Sirius Black was to be the one for you.

A hand runs through his hair as the other anchors itself in his t-shirt; finally getting to feel his hair after so long craving it. With a slight tug of his dark locks, you smile against his mouth at the groan you elicit from the back of his throat. You file that piece of information away for later when it can be explored thoroughly. Entirely wrapped up in him, you give yourself over to him, letting his familiar scent of cloves and sweet orange wash over you.

Breaking the kiss, Sirius rests his forehead on yours for a moment, catching his breath and letting the contentment wash over him. He places kisses over your face – your nose, your cheeks, your forehead before finally pecking your lips in an open mouthed kiss.

You beam up at him; happy to have this moment with him in a quiet school where you won’t be interrupted by students, teachers, or ghosts alike.

With a wide grin, Sirius drops his hold of your waist to take hold of your hand and begins to lead you back through the corridors and to the moving staircases. Laughing, you match his pace as you run up the stairs, taking extra care for those that start to shift.

“Where are you taking me?” You ask with a loud giggle.

“It’s a secret,” Sirius says; turning quickly to face you. He places a finger to his lips in a hush. Then and there, you have to resist pulling him into another kiss from the look on his face; the utter delight spread over it combined with the intense mischief and elation alight in his eyes has your heart beating even faster.

Saying no more, you continue on your journey, letting Sirius guide you every step of the way. Arriving on the Third Floor, Sirius turns left, pulling you towards the statue at the end of the corridor. The statue of the One-Eyed Witch had always left you feeling uneasy; as if she was watching you with her one remaining eye – it seemed to follow you wherever you stepped.

Sirius stops in front of the statue; staring up at her for a moment before fixing his gaze on you. His hand comes up to brush your cheek, “Compared to you: stars pale, and the moon dulls. However, I know that your reaction to what I’m about to show you will even pale the brightest galaxy.”

You duck your head; uncertain of what to reply, feeling somewhat overwhelmed by the sheer emotion in his voice. Sirius tips your chin back up with a single finger, “Fancy going to Hogsmeade?”

You shake your head, “Sirius, I can’t. My parents, remember?”

“I remember just fine. Still, fancy going to Hogsmeade?”

“How?”

Sirius points to the statue of the one-eyed witch, “Through there.”

“Sirius, I love you but that’s a statue.”

He smirks, “It’s good to know you love me, but I need you to say the magic word.”

“And what’s that?”

Leaning close to your ear; so close that his breath is warm across your face, he whispers a single word. You find it hard to concentrate with him so close; his front pressed to your side. His lips brush against your ear and you let yourself arch into his touch as you try to focus on the word being whispered.

“Got it?”

Nodding your head, you step towards the statue. Your hand still wrapped in Sirius’, you whisper, “Dissendium,” Your voice barely louder than a breath.

You take a hasty step back when the hump to the witch opens, revealing a small slide leading into nothing but darkness. You turn to Sirius in awe; a large smile on your face, “How did you?”

Sirius simply shrugs, “I have my way, love. Now, Hogsmeade?”

Tightening your grip on his hand; tugging him into a long kiss, you can barely contain your elation with the teenager now pressing against you. Breaking the kiss but remaining close enough that your lips brush his as you whisper, “I’d go with you anywhere.”

*********

General (HP) taglist: @chaotic-fae-queen @obsessedwithrandomthings @harrypotter289 @kalimagik @heloisedaphnebrightmore @nebulablakemurphy @the-hufflefluffwriter @figlia--della--luna @bforbroadway @idont-knowrn @summer-writes @big-galaxy-chaos @black-lake-confessions @annasofiaearlobe @imboredandneedalife @levylovegood @mytreec @haphazardhufflepuff @teheharrypotter @chaoticgirl04 @accio-rogers @msmimimerton @izzytheninja @slytherinprincess03 @acciotwinz @kashishwrites

Sirius Black taglist: @approved-by-dentists @fific7 @susceptible-but-siriusexual

[havenoffandoms]

Closure

Vesemir knows that there comes a time in every newly turned witcher's life where he yearns for what was before Kaer Morhen. Vesemir knows, because he was once a young wolf himself yearning for a home, yearning to go back to his roots. It was both the bravest and stupidest thing he ever did.

He knew that his young pups wouldn't be any different.

True, Vesemir shouldn't have had favourites. Rennes often gave him into trouble for it, but Vesemir couldn't help himself. And somehow, he always had a soft spot for the troublemakers. Geralt and Eskel had been his cubs from the start. He always had a hard time not laughing every time the duo was dragged into Rennes study to be punished for their pranks. Tormenting an innocent bee by attaching a jug to it had been cruel and unnecessary, which is why Vesemir had taken over that punishment, but otherwise the pups' pranks were harmless. Filling new recruits' boots with honey, catching live rats and hiding them in beds, pouring oil over the hilts of the training swords so they would slip out of the trainees' hands... But Vesemir always kept a stern face when the boys were brought to him and Rennes.

Why is it that whenever something happens it's always you two?

Lambert was also a menace, but not in the same way as Eskel and Geralt were. Lambert was a broken child from a broken home who had seen far too many horrors for someone so young. He refused to adhere to any male authority.

Barring Vesemir, nobody could get the boy to behave.

No amount of discipline, physical or otherwise, nobody could break Lambert. Everyone admitted the fact that he would forever remain a little shit. One day, Vesemir decided to talk to the pup to understand where the hostility came from. Lambert told Vesemir about his abusive father and everything clicked into place. Lambert was a little shit because he didn't respond to threats anymore.

Vesemir was the only one to realise that Lambert did best when praised. The boy positively craved approval. And when Vesemir gave that to him, the pup did as he was told. Mostly...

Vesemir was not surprised when his three pups all followed in his footsteps and returned to the place they came from, despite the advice of their elders not to do so. Vesemir never discouraged them. He understood his pups' need for closure. It was not until years later, when all that was left from the school of the wolf were Geralt, Eskel, Lambert and Vesemir, that his pups filled him in (after ingesting copious amounts of alcohol).

"I went back to good old dad. I confronted him. He didn't recognise me," Lambert's eyes stared blankly at the table in front, "I could tell the tables had turned. I decided to use the fact that he had no idea who I was to my advantage. He begged for the mean witcher who had broken into his home to spare his life like the gutless coward he was. I asked him 'do you live alone? A wife, children?' He said his son was taken away from him, and his wife died of a broken heart after that. A shameless lie. 'Why did you do it, father? Why did you beat ma and me to a pulp every day, every night?' That's when he realised who I was. He dropped to his knees and begged for my forgiveness. Begged... But all the begging wouldn't undo what he did. 'You killed her, didn't you?' I asked. 'Please son, it was an accident. I took it too far, I didn't mean to kill her. Please son, have mercy.'"

"What did you do?" Eskel asked with genuine curiosity. Lambert looked up at his brother, a humourless grin gracing his lips.

"The bastard killed my mother. What do you suppose I did? I avenged her. I told my old man that I wasn't his son, I never was his son, and then I ran my blade through his heart."

The silence that ensued was broken by none other than Geralt.

"When I was looking for Ciri, I got badly wounded. A peasant found me, helped me. I was delirious with fever. That's when I... I saw her. Visenna. I'm still not sure if it was all a vivid dream or her magic. I knew she was a sorceress after all. It wasn't impossible that she was actually there. I knew it was her because I recognised her red hair and her green eyes. The only things I remembered of her."

Vesemir stayed silent, listening to his pups opening up to him. Making eye contact with Geralt would scare him away. So Vesemir kept his eyes on the glass of moonshine in his hand.

"All I wanted were answers. Honest answers. I wanted to know if she knew what happened to the boys who were chosen to become witchers. I wanted her to look at me when I told her that 8 out of 10 boys died during the Trials. I wanted her to tell me that she didn't know this before leaving me at Vesemir's doorstep."

"And did she know?" Lambert asked, voice unusually soft.

"I don't know. I woke up before I could get an answer."

Vesemir did not say a word. Not yet. He waited patiently, knowing that Eskel, dear empathic Eskel, would soon fill the silence with his own tale.

"I too went back to the village I was born in. In the hills near Toussaint. I didn't intend to at first, but a contract near Beauregard lead me down that road. It was several years after Deirdre. After... This," Eskel waved vaguely at his scarred face. "I didn't expect anyone from my family to be alive, much less to recognise me. But hill folk are sturdy folk. Some 60 later, I didn't expect my mother to still be alive. She had me young, too young. Barely 15 summers she had seen before she bore me. I was six when Rennes took me away."

"Your mother was 81 when you saw her next?" Geralt asked, his voice strangely strained, almost as if he felt for the poor woman going 60 years without seeing her first born son. Vesemir supposed that taking on his child surprise had given Geralt a new perspective on these matters.

"Yeah. And... Against all expectations, she recognised me. This frail dying woman, suffering from a terrible pneumonia at the time, recognised me the minute I stepped into her home. The same house I remember. She looked at me and her face instantly lit up. 'Eskel, my son. I knew you would come back'. The healer told me that every time someone came to visit she would utter the name Eskel first, but always be disappointed to find someone else. But this time, it was me."

Eskel paused, the memory clearly painful. Contrary to Geralt, Vesemir knew that eye contact would give Eskel the courage to finish his tale.

"Her hand came to rest on my cheek and she asked me how I got that scar. I told her I didn't want to tell the story, for it was a shameful one and she would be disappointed in her son. She said 'Eskel, no matter what you did, I am proud of the man you've become.' I didn't believe her, didn't want to believe her. And yet, she sounded so genuine. She died later that day, the tune she used to sing to me as a child on her lips. De old hen she cackled, she cackled... Until she cackled no more."

Eskel fell silent, the air around him heavy with emotion. Lambert, who was sat next to him, patted him on the shoulder in a display of male companionability. Eskel did not react but he did not pull away either. Vesemir chose this moment to speak up.

"Lambert, your father was a despicable man. When Rennes claimed you by the law of surprise, he tried to convince your mother to leave too. She wouldn't. She thought that losing a son would kill your father, nevermind losing his wife. Rennes tried to reason with her, but she was already too far manipulated by your father. She refused to leave, but hoped that you would get a better chance at life if Rennes took you away. Your father got what he deserved."

"Geralt, your mother was a sorceress. I would be lying if I said that she didn't understand the process of the Trials. However, it took me seven years to track her down. I claimed you by the law of Surprise when you were not even in her womb yet. For seven years she ran, protected you, refused to let you become one of us. Until destiny caught up with her in the form of Rennes, who threatened far worse would befall her son if Visenna refused to give you up. Two weeks later, you were at our doorstep because she would rather take that chance than have her son murdered before her eyes."

"Eskel, I don't think I ever saw a woman so enamoured with her child as your mother was with you. It wasn't her choice to give you away. In fact, it all happened one afternoon when she had gone to the market. It was the village chieftain who handed you over as a price for killing two griffins that were killing the cattle. I have to say that I was unaware of this until one year when I was travelling the Path myself and returned to that same village, only to have the chieftain recognise me and offer me food and shelter. Your mother instantly knew who I was. She screamed at me with the fury and despair of a woman who had lost everything. By then, you had already survived the trials. That knowledge was only a small comfort to an otherwise broken woman."

"I have done many things in my life, pups. I'm not proud of many of those things. I do hope you will find it in yourselves to forgive me."

And of course they forgave him, although Vesemir didn't deserve their forgiveness. But he had raised his pups well. He hoped that their mothers agreed.

[aliaslua]

Everything I wanted

Michelangelo (TMNT 2016) x Fem!reader 

Summary:  A deep friendship flourishes between the reader and Michelangelo. Despite your attempts to disregard what your heart desires, the affection between you is impossible to ignore. One day, for no apparent reason, Mike starts treating you coldly. Could this be the end of a relationship that never even started?

Category: Romantic, some angst but mainly pure fluff. 

WARNINGS: None c:

A/N: So I've been feeling super romantic lately, couldn't help but to write this fluff piece to calm my heart! Hope you like it! Also, English is not my first language, so constructive criticism is always welcome. Thank you for reading!

You can also read it on AO3 <3

How long?

You sighed deeply and continued to stir the sauce pan.

How long has it been since you realized you were in love? The memories of that heavy rainy day when Michelangelo had knocked on the balcony window were still vivid, you remember it as if it were yesterday, even though it was almost a year ago. At that time you weren't yet part of the group, effectively. You had met those vigilante - the turtles - only two weeks ago, and despite having made maybe two or three visits to the lair, their attitude towards you was still very reserved, very cautious. It made sense... They didn't know you and had a life that did not allow suspicious people around, it was the most rational thing to do. Even though you understand the point of view, it still brought you a little discomfort to be treated so coldly.

You sighed again. They all did treated you like an outside at that time... Everyone but him. In that night that now inhabited your mind, Mike had sought refuge in your apartment. The rain was too heavy to come home, could he stay overnight? Well, of course! So you brought towels and a thick blanket, you increased the fire in the fireplace and made him hot chocolate. He was so happy, so grateful. He was like that, after all: humorous, cheerful, positive.

So you spent the night together... Talking, cooking, playing cards and waiting the end of the torrential rain that insisted on falling. That had been the first time you had been up all night but the wait was not at all tedious, Mikey was so funny and so joyful that the hours passed like minutes and only when the first rays of the sun appeared on the horizon did you realized how long it had taken. 

"Damn, is it day time already?." He had said "Thanks for the company, Babycakes. Best date ever." He winked and chuckled. 

You shared with him a genuine smile and even after he left you continued to smile for the rest of the week.

That had been a year ago. After that, Michelangelo started to neglected his patrol shifts to visit you. You ordered pizza, watched series, played board games. He loved to watch you doing your hair and once or twice he had let you gave him a manicure session, his company was the highlight of your day and you guys started to see each other at least three times every week. It didn't take long for his brothers to find out and Leonardo gave him a scolding that seemed monstrous by Michelangelo's reaction when he told you - Well, guess you lost the chance you had to make a good  impression. At least Mike liked you - he did, a lot - but indiscipline had resulted in punishment and now he could only visit you when he was off duty.

It was during that period that you realized you were in love. The realization came through you like thunder. You were waiting for him to come in through the window, but he didn't show up. You remembered that he wouldn't come - the punishment also involved not leaving the lair for a month, only for missions - and you realized the terrible sadness of knowing that you wouldn't see him. Suddenly, his absence felt like a hole in your chest and the pain was more than spiritual: you could feel the unbearable contraction of your own heart. In the weeks that followed you tried to rationalize: "He's my friend and I like him. Of course I miss him! That's absolutely normal. Nothing wrong or unusual. It doesn't mean I am in love" Maybe, maybe. If you don't say it, if you don't accept it, if you deny it until the end, then it won't be true. It is not love.

But it was. It undeniably was. When that month finaly passed and you saw his shadow crackle on your balcony again the vivid heat that stung your chest screamed that he was the man you loved. You still remembered the feeling of being in his arms again. His scent, his skin, his laughter, his soft voice that whispered in your ear how he had missed you, you still remembered the thrill you felt in your body when he popped a kiss on your ear.

From then on things had gone downhill. Your denial transformed into a snowball that grew to a point that was impossible to ignore. You started to visited him at the Lair once a week and you still had weekly visits in your apartment, you had your own internal jokes and non-verbal codes. The hugs became longer and longer and letting go seemed irrational, while everything about him felt right: his smile, his arms, the way he scratched his neck when he needed to think, the way he tucked your hair back behind your ear , the teasing, the flirting ... Everything was perfect, it was suffocating, it was too much.

The kitchen alarm woke you out of your trance. You drained the noodle water. Today was wednesday and Michelangelo had promised to visit, but canceled at the last minute. Recently things have been... weird. One day you had arrived at the Lair and you felt a tension that hung in the air, that kind that remains after an interrupted fight. Mike started to be awkward, embarrassed, shy. This suspicious posture caught you off guard and suddenly it seemed like you didn't even know each other. He had stopped calling you by petnames, he didn't give you hugs anymore and the messages were so rare that sometimes they didn't even come. You didn't understand what had happened. What had you done? It was impossible to know. But canceling today's meeting had been the last straw and the message was clear to you. It had ended before it even started.

A deep sigh made you swallow the knot in your throat and with a forkful of your dinner, you held back your tears. Maybe it wasn't meant to be. You were too different. How could it be? He was the hero of the city and you couldn't be more ordinary. A large sip of wine warmed your body. This time, a single tear ran uncontrolled down your cheek. You would never get over him. You would never stop missing him. You would be forever haunted by the cruel doubt of not knowing where it had gone wron-

A soft knock on your balcony window made you jump in fright. You immediately recognized the noise, how could you forget? That had been a harbinger of your happiness for the past year. Mikey.

In a hurry, you wiped away the single tear with the back of your hand. When you arrived in the living room, he had already entered. There was a giant space between you. Normally you would run to hug him but it all seemed so inappropriate now. Your heart was beating so fast that you could feel it in your throat. You looked at him and it seemed that you weren't the only one who had been crying.

"Y/N I ..." He took a deep breath. He looked different. Perhaps older, matured by sadness. His eyes no longer had the sparkle that had made you fallen in love with him. "I'm sorry to come at this hour. I ... I ..."

A deafening silence filled the room.

"I can't stay like this anymore." He finally said, in a sigh "I can't, it's impossible. I can't eat, I can't drink ... I can't think of anything... I have no motivation to do anything I ... I can't live anymore with all of this in the chest. I ... I need to hear you reject me. "

"What?"  Was all you could say, astonished.

"It's all I am asking for. Please reject me. Tell me already that I am a monster, that I took advantage of your trust and friendship and that if you knew it that would came to this you would never have been so kind. Please ..." This time you had no doubts, he was crying. "Please, just tell me! End all my hopes, because I can't think of anything else. I-I can't live in peace until you finally tell me the obvious. For God sake. Tell me that you don't love me back. So I can finaly get over this stupid dream and move on!"

"What." You said pathetically, for the second time in a roll.

He crossed the room with determination. He approached you with the same delicacy and affection that you thought had disappeared and with the same care he kindly held you face.

"I'm in love with you. I am in love with you since that first day when you gave me a blanket and made me hot chocolate, when we played cards and talked about basketball. You are a sight inked on my mind and since I met you I can't think of anything else." He closed his eyes bitterly "If everything was different ... I-If I were different, I would do anything to be everything you needed. But I know ... I-I know I'm not... I am not the man you want and more than that I know that I’m not the man you deserve... But I can’t spend another minute pretending I don’t dream about you every day, because honestly, I’m going crazy. Just say it. Say that this is impossible and that I am the last person in the world that you would like to be- "

When your lips touched, it was as if an electric current was running through your body. There he was, Mike, your Mike, back in your arms, asking you to do the impossible. There was nothing to be said - You could only show him. His eyes widened with the unexpected advance, but with the same speed he returned the kiss, deepening it. His lips were everything you had imagined, warm and soft and it was almost impossible to contain your moan when he dropped his hands to your waist and pulled you closer. Your body was hot but it was no longer because of the wine, the repressed desire turned to caresses and your bodies seemed to scream "finally, oh god, finally!"

The pause for breathing was followed by two panting bodies. Leaning on his arms, a stunning view of his blue eyes was the only thing that interested you.

"I love you, Michelangelo. "You said, almost whispering." I love you, I love you, I love you. "

He smiled for the first time since arriving at your apartment, you saw clearly when his eyes started to shine again. You joined together again in a long, hot, lingering kiss. Lost in the heat between your legs, the cold in your belly and the joy in your heart, you could only think of how everything was perfect.

You sat on the couch, you on his lap. The night was still young and silence was enough to describe the joy you shared in that embrace. Finally in his arms, you laid your head on his shoulder while he played with your hair. Staying there, with him, was everything you wanted, for the rest of your life.

"I will make you the happiest woman in the world." He said while sniffing your hair.

"I already am." You said, after kissing his neck "You already did."

[againstshame]

I realized that I have some internilized ableism issues. 

I was giving my friend updates about what I got done each day.

I found that difficult not just because I was

Ashamed that I didn't accomplish much,

or even

Ashamed that such little things are considered accomplishments for me,

but because the act of reporting back itself requires acknowledgment that I need extra support. 

For me, that acknowledgment comes with the thoughts/feelings of "Normal people don't need help like this, I'm different, weaker, sick, broken, wrong."

Anything that "Normal people dont have to do" comes with that feeling, so actually doing the thing requires accepting it as fact that I am a bad person. (Bad like low quality not like evil) (Although sometimes the idea follows that if I'm not a cost effective person (value of resourses consumed vs value of output) then the choice to keep consuming resourses is morally unsound)

That's a super cruel way of thinking. How do I convince myself its not true?

There are three ways I deal with this type of thinking, personally.

1. The standards for what types of help are normal to need, how much "value" we ought to produce, etc. are really just ideas that somebody made up. They are not accurate descriptions of reality- it may seem like everybody except you is perfectly Normally Productive and never needs Extra Help, but this is mostly because we don't know that many details about our acquaintances' private lives. Human beings are hugely diversely weird, and the world is full of people who are struggling but getting by through various kinds of "extra support" that they may or may not even think of as extra or unusual.

2. I'm going to quote from The Dispossessed by Ursula Le Guin here.

“For we each of us deserve everything, every luxury that was ever piled into the tombs of the dead kings, and we each of us deserve nothing, not a mouthful of bread in hunger. Have we not eaten while another starved? Will you punish us for that? Will you reward us for the virtue of starving while others ate? No man earns punishment, no man earns reward.”

If we actually tried to run society strictly by "cost effectiveness" and expecting people to earn exactly as much as they "cost" society... a lot of people would die and we would stop having a society. It doesn't work.

3. Even if you were going to accept the idea that you're a broken, less-than, substandard human being... Has hating your weakness ever made you any stronger? Because it hasn't for me. It's done the opposite. It's made me less capable of doing things for myself, it's made me less capable of finding ways to cope with problems, it's made me less capable of even thanking people when they help me. The absolute most effective thing I ever did to make myself less of a """burden""" on my friends and family was to stop trying to hide every "broken" thing about myself out of shame.

[dorthyanndrarry]

The Liars Department -12-

tags: drarry, auror Harry, ministry employee Draco, oblivious Harry, Draco is an unrepentant flirt, and disillusionment there’s just so much disillusionment

suggested rating: T+

Part 1 (contains links to all parts) <– Part 11 || Part 13 -->

-

(continued from previous part)

“Better,” Malfoy said.

“You freed all your house elves?” Harry asked.

Malfoy nodded.

“Why?”

Malfoy shrugged offhandedly, “Oh well… you know, it made my father absolutely livid for one. That was a treat.”

Asbestos scoffed loudly in the corner.

“He the one who had his wand destroyed and isn’t allowed to ever use one again, you must have  been thinking of him when you thought I didn’t have a wand. Since he can’t use magic he had to pass on ownership of the estate to me so we’d be able to access all of the grounds and rooms, some of them are bound by blood magic. Once the ritual was complete, I immediately freed them,” Malfoy grinned widely, “The look on his face, Potter. It’s a memory I shall cherish. Do you have a pensieve? I’d be glad to share it.” “No. I’ve had enough of Lucius Malfoy for the rest of my life,” Harry said.

“If only we could all be so lucky.” Malfoy leaned forward, “Auror Potter, you must understand, the things the elves buy- it’s wonderful, the clothes, the food, the toys and knick-knacks; there’s no purer delight in the world than visiting them in the evenings and seeing what they’ve gotten up to.”

Harry frowned, “...You just did it because it was fun?”

“No,” Asbestos said before Malfoy could reply, “Old man was hurting elves. Old man was punishing and being cruel because he was angry. Now Old Man can’t because free elves can hurt back.”

Malfoy slumped back in his chair with a frown that was mostly pout, “But that’s horrid and unfun and boring. No one cares about that.”

Harry was pretty sure he did. Hermione had been campaigning for ages to get the old houses, the Ministry, and Hogwarts to free their house elves but despite all the claimed support and vague promises, none of them had freed a single elf. And yet the one house she never asked had freed them all.

“Stupid,” Asbestos said.

“I am not,” Malfoy said.

“Double stupid,” Asbestos said.

“Well, you’re rude,” Malfoy said.

Asbestos grinned, “Asbestos is. Just as she likes. But not stupid like you.”

“not stupid,” Malfoy muttered under his breath.

Harry let out a surprised laugh.

Malfoy frowned at him, “Oh, go away. Don’t you have work to do, Auror Potter? You’re dreadfully late.”

“I was only a bit late, having to find this place wasn’t easy, you know. The receptionists weren’t told your office had moved,” Harry said.

Malfoy’s brow furrowed.

And it occurred to Harry that without anyone knowing where the office was, they wouldn’t be able to send him a notification that Harry had done the transfer.

“The Ministry has this thing where you can transfer to another department for a week to try it out,” Harry said, “I transferred here. To work here. For a week.”

Malfoy stared at him.

Harry stared back.

“No. Not possible,” Malfoy said.

“I’m pretty sure it is. I filled out the paperwork myself,” Harry said.

Malfoy abruptly looked away, putting his hand over his mouth.

Harry watched as the tops of Malfoy’s ears slowly turned red. He sat back in his chair, enjoying the sudden change. See how you like being unbalanced, Harry thought.

“stupid,” Asbestos said under her breath.

Malfoy cleared his throat and ran a hand over his hair, “I certainly wasn’t expecting that. It seems like… an unusual choice.”

“Yeah, well, the department is being set up to fail, and it isn’t right,” Harry said.

“I can manage,” Malfoy said stiffly.

Harry shifted in the chair, it squeaked under his weight, “It isn’t about you, the auror’s are going to look bad if a muggle exposure goes wrong and Suirup’s set this whole thing up to make Hermione look bad.” And well, it might have been a bit about Malfoy, seeing as he was trying to do his job, and deserved a fair shot as much as anyone else. But Harry wasn’t about to tell him that.

Malfoy’s brow furrowed, “Granger’s involved in this?”

Harry nodded, “She wanted to do a research paper on the effect of obliviating muggles in case it was causing memory problems and Suirup’s in charge of the committee to approve her proposals. He spun the whole thing into this department-”

“And set it up to fail so she would look foolish,” Malfoy said. He sighed and let out a strange little laugh, “Of course. Here I thought it was about me, but it never is, is it? Always the pawn, never the player.”

It was self-deprecating, Malfoy’s laugh, that’s why Harry couldn’t place it before. He’d rarely heard Malfoy be anything other annoying confident.

“It’s probably better this way,” Malfoy said. He took a deep breath and put a smile on that didn’t look genuine in the least, “Suirup used to be very vocal in his opinions about muggle-born’s rising above their station before the war. I’m not surprised Granger is having trouble with him.”

“He’s a dick. I don’t know how he managed to get a seat on the Wizengamont anyway,” Harry said.

Malfoy raised an eyebrow, “Most of them are dicks, and I mean that literally. The majority of the seats are inherited or are filled by Ministry department heads. In fact, there are only a few seats that are elected. I’d have thought you’d know that, Auror Potter-”

“Just Potter. I’m not an auror right now,” Harry pointed out.

Malfoy curled his lip in dismay, “No. I don’t think so.”

“I think so. Filled out the paperwork, remember?” Harry said.

“Ugh,” Malfoy said, “I cannot call you- No.”

“What?” Harry said grinning faintly, “You didn’t have any problem calling me Pottah in school.”

Malfoy winced, “That is exactly the problem. That name is full of baggage and horrid memories. I’m not interested in reminiscing.”

“It’s my name,” Harry said.

“Enjoy. It’s not mine, and I don’t have to use it if I don’t want to,” Malfoy said.

Harry rolled his eyes, “You could always use my first name, you know. I do have one.”

“No,” Malfoy said flatly.

“In fact, it’s Harry. You should try it sometime,” Harry said.

“I’ll be sure to use it at your funeral,” Malfoy said.

“Come on, Malfoy-!”

“Ah!” Malfoy pointed at him, “You still use my last name.”

Harry frowned at him, “That’s just a habit.”

Malfoy raised his eyebrows.

Harry frowned harder.

They stared at one another, stubbornness radiating off them like a bad fever.

“Fine,” Harry said, “Draco.”

Harry looked away at the same time Malfoy did, feeling really weirdly embarrassed by it all.

“double stupid,” Asbestos muttered.

Harry cleared his throat, “Yeah, no, this is a bit ridiculous. What we ought to be doing is letting reception know where your office is so they can contact you if something happens.”

“Yes...” Malfoy said thoughtfully, “Asbestos, can you do that?”

“Asbestos not stupid, so yes,” Asbestos said standing up on her chair, her tutu crinkling as it brushed past her desk.

“What? I could do that. You could do it,” Harry said.

“She’s my secretary, it’s her job. And we shall be going out,” Malfoy said.

“We shall?” Harry said.

Malfoy waved him off, “Do you have the phone I gave you, Asbestos?”

“Yes, yes. Asbestos will contact you if there is memo or person needing you,” Asbestos said dismissively. She snapped her fingers and apparated away.

“What phone? Muggle tec doesn’t really work here, there’s too much magic interference,” Harry said.

Malfoy stood up and straightened his suit before reaching into his pocket and drawing out a slim black flip-phone. Or something that looked quite like a mirror. When Malfoy flipped it open, Harry saw that the small screen on top had been replaced with a mirror.

“Oh! It’s like a two-way mirror?” Harry said, “Aren’t they really rare?”

Malfoy snapped it shut and put it away, “Yes. It’s because the spellwork required to make them permanently connected is extremely difficult. The spells to keep them temporarily connected are much easier. They should work for a year.”

“I’ve never seen anything like that before,” Harry said, “It’s really clever.”

“Thank you,” Malfoy said with a truly smug smile, “It’s a prototype. I still have to figure out how to get them to connect to other mirrors instead of just one.”

“You made it?” Harry said, sounding more than a little doubtful.

“Of course. I’m very creative and clever, you know,” Malfoy said.

“I don’t know,” Harry said.

Malfoy sighed at him, “Oh, fuck off.”

“Hey-!”

“If you’re done antagonizing me,” Malfoy said.

“I- What? I wasn’t!” Harry said.

Malfoy gave him a look that said that Harry was very much being a total twat and to which Harry didn’t think he deserved in the least.

“Let’s go. We need to get you a uniform,” Malfoy said. He edged past the desk and then did his best to sweep past Harry out the door.

“Uniform? You don’t mean a suit? I’m not wearing anything like that,” Harry said, pointing at Malfoy’s white suit.

Malfoy put his sunglasses, “I’m your boss, aren’t I? So you’ll wear whatever uniform I like.”

Harry hesitated. It actually hadn’t occurred to him that he would be working for Malfoy, and he suddenly felt a deep sense of foreboding for what was to come.

“Come along. We don’t, in fact, have all day. I’m off at six,” Malfoy said.

“So am I.”

“No. You were late and will stay back a half an hour after to make up the time,” Malfoy said, “And your suit will be black.”

Harry stood up with a sigh and followed Malfoy.

-

♥ Next update will be tuesday noonish pst ♥

♥  Tags below  ♥  (I don’t have a permanent tags list. All tags are of the wonderful people who left messages on the previous part.)

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💜 @devilrising it just occurred to me it is remarkable that draco never considers harry a threat even though he could fuck up dracos life even more than fart-taster or robards could 💜 i wonder if that says something about the antagonistic familiarity of their relationship or about dracos poor survival instincts  💜 its hard to imagine him being particularly careful or afraid of harry but that could just be the limits of my imagination, I am very attached to my own headcannons 💜    

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[eak8753]

High School AU 

There were two people at Rebel High that you didn’t mess with. Damian Wayne and Raven Roth. Damian was the son of playboy billionaire Bruce Wayne. He was a violent little shit that got into fights just for the fun of it. He had been kicked out of numerous schools so his Father sent him to the only public school in town as punishment. He could hold himself in a fight and even if he couldn’t, he knew his Father would bail him out of anything.

Raven was a part of the demons, one of the deadliest gangs in America. She was born into it by her Father, as it was her birthright to be a part of it. She was the school's best known drug dealer and had spent the summer before junior year locked up. She had no quarrels with kicking someone’s ass if she needed to, but her preferred method of attack was verbal abuse. Both of them could cut you down to size with a single look and people were far too scared to get on their shit lists. That didn’t stop the rumours though.

“Todd, what are we doing here? I thought you were taking us to get food?” Damian asked his older brother, Jason. He had told their Father that he was grabbing a late lunch, when Alfred had insisted that he take Damian along. That had been thirty minutes ago and they still hadn’t gotten a single thing to eat. Instead they were at some trailer park on the opposite side of the city. The trailers were smaller than his room and it didn’t make sense why Todd would want to come here.

Ignoring his younger brother, Jason got out of the car, banging on one of the trailer's doors. Following his brother's actions -for what reason was beyond him- a man with two dyed white streaks in his primarily black hair, eyes the colour of ambers, covered in tattoos opened the door. looking Jason up and down he motioned for them to come in. Upon entering Damian noticed two things, it was bigger on the inside, and the place reeked of weed.

“I need papes*” Jason told the man once they walked in. “What happened to the ones I gave you?” the man questioned turning the T.V off. Damian always had to marvel at how differently they all handled their problems. Todd used drugs and alcohol, Drake would isolate himself, Grayson would throw himself into work, and Damian used violence. Sure they each tended to do what the others did -minus Damian and drugs- but they all seemed more prone to do one thing.

Damian was snapped out of his thoughts when he heard a girl’s voice, one he had heard a couple of times before. “Hey fuckhead” the girl said, anger evident in her voice. Turning to the sound he looked at a form dressed in a white tank top, black sweatpants, and a bat in hand. Right in front of him was Rebel High’s most feared female; Raven Roth. “Shit” the man Jason had asked papes for pailed. “Rae…” he said trailing off as she went towards the television. She glared at the man, then proceeded to take the bat and swing it into the T.V. effectively rendering it useless. Glass shards fell to the ground, all the while the lavender haired girl never took her eyes off the man.

“What the fuck Raven” the man yelled at the young women, looking back from the shattered T.V. to her. “Remember this next time you wanna go through my shit” she said walking up to him, stopping only a few feet away, dropping the bat. “As your older brother I can go through your crap whenever I want to, and how else was I gonna find out that you’re fucking a thirty year old” the dark haired man replied, still in disbelief over the events that took place not even five minutes ago. “Simple, you don’t. Besides it’s not like it would be the first time” the girl replied with venom, clearly still angry, for what was lost to Damian.

The Roth siblings glared at each other, while the Wayne brothers -or the ones there at least- kept glancing at each other, in mild confusion and fear. She looked at him for a moment. Damian had never had a conversation with the young dealer. She rarely ever spoke unless it was to rip someone apart, disrespect someone -who more often than not deserved it- or was to talk about deals. Seeing as Damian and her didn’t run in the same crowd -that of which meant he was popular, thus meaning he sat with popular people and she was always by herself- and he didn’t have a purpose for drugs, they never spoke. Although they did have English together. Turning back to face her brother she flipped him off and walked out the door.

Damian briefly wondered if he had been possessed as he saw her walk out the door, slamming it. He didn’t want her to leave, which was unusual in itself since he wasn’t much of a people person. Looking at the two older men before him, Damian ran out of the trailer home, running up to the young girl, calling out her name.

Stopping a couple of meters in front of him she slowly turned around, her arms crossed in front of her, confusion visible on her face. “Wayne?” she questioned, raising an eyebrow as he ran the last few meters to her. “Hey, I um” he stammered, suddenly his mouth felt dry. Despite other’s beliefs, he had no clue how to talk to teenage girls, especially ones who were just as explosive as him. He knew he had to be cautious, not say or do anything that might make her upset.

“I didn’t know you had a brother” he said casually. “I have five more,” she said, never letting her defences down. Why was Damian Wayne talking to her? It didn’t make any sense, and honestly she couldn’t be bothered to figure out the truth at the moment. She hadn’t eaten yet and was fully aware of how violent and rude she could be if she didn’t eat. “Really? Where are they” he asked with genuine interest. He was observant and used that to his advantage, he pretty much had everyone at Rebel’s High story -or the basics of it- figured out, all’s except her’s.

“Prison” she answered sharply, turning on her heel, she started walking again. Then a hand reached out to latch on to her own, effectively stopping her. Spinning around to him, she looked at his hand on her arm, then at him. Did he have a death wish? Moving his hand from her after a moment -way to quickly, he noted- he went to speak, but was beaten to it. “Look Damian, if my brother asked you to check up on me-“ “Your brother didn’t tell me to do shit. I just wanted to make sure you were okay” he cut her off, nonchalantly.

She was suspicious, he could see that but she didn’t ask “why” which he was grateful for. Honestly Damian didn’t know why he did it, maybe it was because something about Raven had always intrigued him or that she had yet to throw herself at him but he did want to make sure she was okay. Plus if what her brother said about the thirty year old was true, he wanted that pedophile to get locked up.

“I’m guessing you’re one of the shithead brothers Jay is alway complaining about?” She asked him after a moment, still keeping her guards up. Raising his eyebrow slightly he crossed his arms. “He talks about you guys, so are you Kiss Up, Replacement or Demon Spawn?” the girl question. “Demon Spawn, definitely Demon Spawn” the boy answered, smirking.

Sure being called a demon spawn wasn’t something to be proud of, but honestly he couldn’t give two shits. When he first went to live with his Father seven years ago he purposefully was a disobedient, cruel, nasty child, something he undoubtedly would be punished for when he lived with his Mother and Grandfather. He also really liked the names for his other older brothers. Kiss Up had to be Grayson, Father was always comparing everything the others did to their eldest brother. Replacement must have been Drake then, which for Todd was fitting, considering he was adopted a few months after Father had sent Todd off to boarding school in London.

Tuning back into his conversation with Raven he asked “what does he say about us?” “53% of the time it's complaints, 17% is talking about how we should sell him a gun“ this shocked Damian for two reasons; why did Todd need a gun? And he didn’t know the Roths dealt them. Of course he wasn’t stupid and valued his life so he brushed it off as if he already knew these things. “What about the remaining 30%?” The young Wayne asked. At that Raven just grinned.

It was then that she came closer to him, he stood still, tensing up at the contact. He didn’t really like being around people, females no less. He had only really ever had two females close to him; his mother and ex girlfriend, both of which were no longer a part of his life. Raven, being completely oblivious to his uneasiness reached forward for the front of his jacket, playing with the unzipped sides before looking up at him. “Is that a Balmain Biker Jacket*” she questioned, still playing with the sides. “Yeah it is, how did you…” he trailed off, looking at her suspiciously. “Just because I can't afford it doesn’t mean I don't know what it is,” she smirked.

He looked at her a bit sheepishly, then she quickly pulled away from him. For some reason he liked having her close to him, but he brushed it off as wanting physical contact from a female -that he was comfortable with- after going months without it.

“I'm hungry” she stated, and started walking away. Before he could do anything she turned to him again with a raised brow. “Well, are you coming?” She asked. It took him a moment to realize what had happened. Raven Roth had just asked him if he was going to eat with her, it really wasn’t her style. He had rumours that she had slept with -or done something similar- with almost every guy at school. He didn’t think she did dates, then again this wasn’t a date. Did he want it to be a date? That was a question he didn’t need answered at the moment, running up to her he made sure to leave a good five inches of space between them.

Entering Big Belly Burger, they sat down at a booth, across from each other. “Need help deciding what you want,” Raven asked with an amusing smile, clearly teasing him. It wasn't a secret that Damian always had the best of everything; clothes, technology, and food. He knew that she thought that this was his first time coming to a Big Belly Burger, or any fast food place. Yes it was true he didn’t usually go to places that served food high in fat, but he did indulge once in a while, this being one of those times. “Nope” he answered, popping the P, as the waitress came over to them.

“What will it be?” The waitress asked, who Damian quickly realized was a new girl who went to their school, a sophomore he believed. “I'll have a grilled chicken burger and an ice tea, with a side of fries” Raven said, putting the menu down. “I'll have the same thing except for a surprise veg burger” Damian responded to the waitress. Looking up from her notepad, she looked both of them over, registering who exactly was in front of her.

“Holy shit, you’re Damian Wayne” it wasn’t really a question but he nodded anyways. Immediately she became much more cheery. She patted her uniform skirt down, fixed her hair slightly and put on a bright smile. “So what brings you here” she said, he cringed internally at the overused pickup line. He found it a little disrespectful that she would try and talk to him when he was clearly in the middle of something with another person. The complete disregard for Raven infuriated.

He gestured towards the purple haired girl in front of him, the waitress just scoffed. “You certainly are a cheap date” she said to Raven. “Didn’t know you were into rich boys, then again I wouldn’t put being a gold digger past you. Or is the trailer trash you’re used to just not cutting it anymore, you would sleep with anyone who wants it” she said with clear disgust, Raven for her part was keeping her cool, she didn’t even seem bothered by what this girl was insinuating. Damian knew the rumours, and what her brother said didn’t help her case, but she didn’t have to take this kind of treatment.

Looking away from Raven, the younger girl looked Damian, bright smile again. “You know you don’t have to go through the trouble of buying this skank lunch right? I mean you could do so much better-“ no doubt referring to herself, he thought “-and she never needed to be dined before. I heard that she” “I don’t give two shits what you heard about her. Now can you please go get us our fucking food” Damian snapped. The girl, slightly taken aback by his outrage, just nodded and left, all the while having Damian glare at her.

Looking back to Raven he saw her brow raised, something he noticed she did a lot. “You know you could report her right, get her fired. No doubt that she deserves it” he said, still not understanding how she managed not to be angry. “It’s not that big of a deal” she shrugged, playing with a ketchup packet. Not that big of a deal? She had just been disrespected and thinks it isn’t a big deal.

Then a thought struck him. “Does that happen often” he questioned, although deep down he already knew the answer. She pretended to think for a moment. “All the time” she answered, leaning back in her seat. “You don’t have to take it,” he said, placing his hands on the table leaning forward slightly. “Look, I'm a Roth” she sighed. “People are always gonna talk. If she wasn’t bitching about me being a slut, then it would about me being a dealer” she said, eyes pleading with him to just drop it.

“That's fucked up” he said, staring out the window. “I come from a pretty fucked up family” she responded with a smile in her voice. “Yeah, my family’s pretty shit too” he stated, still not looking at her. He was upset with his Father for not knowing about him until he was ten years old, he was upset with his Mother for not telling his Father about him, but more importantly he was upset that they both never treated him like a normal child, then again Damian wasn’t a normal child.

“Damian” Raven's voice snapped him from his thoughts, turning to look at her; she had an incredulity face. “From what I heard you have a pretty great family” she stated matter of factly. Seeing the look of confusion on his face she elaborated. “I know that your Father is sort of a distant asshole, but he also has a multibillion dollar company to run, so he can’t exactly be there for all of you. Clearly he shouldn’t have so many kids but you all turned out pretty fine. The worst of you being Jason, dubbed by the media, and all he really does is smoke weed” she gave her two cents. She wasn’t wrong, in fact she was completely on the nose. Damian understood why his Father was away all the time, but a part of him still wished he could see him after he came home from school like most kids.

“Still wish he’d be there for us sometimes though. We really only see him on Fridays for a mandatory family dinner” Damian said, a hint of bitterness in his voice. “Family dinner sounds nice, if my Father isn’t locked up then he’s doing something to get locked up” she responded as their food arrived, thankfully it was a different waitress this time. “How much time has he done?” The young man questioned, taking a sip of his ice tea. “30 years on and off” she answered, taking a bite of her fries.

“So, what’s your story?” She asked him after about three minutes of silence. It wasn’t an awkward silence though, and he actually quite enjoyed it. When he was with his -now ex- girlfriend she hated the silence and would talk for hours, which was fine with Damian if it meant he didn’t have to talk about himself. Obviously this tactic wasn’t going to work with Raven.

“I don’t have one” he simply answered, taking a bite from his burger. “Bullshit” she said, taking a sip of her drink. “Everyone's got a story, whether they acknowledge it or not” she stated. “If that’s true then you must have one” he countered, crossing his arms and leaning back into his seat. “Yeah I do, but I asked first” she shrugged, reaching over and grabbing one of his fries.

His eyes followed his fry in her hands, all the way to her mouth, looking up he realized she had been watching him the whole time, sighing he had no other choice but to answer the young woman. “I grew up with my Mother and Grandfather. They took care of me and taught me how to defend myself. After my Grandfather was killed my Mother had trouble taking care of us, so she brought me to my father.”

“Apparently he didn’t even know I was born and made me take a DNA test to determine if I was even his or not. Surprise surprise, I was. I’ve been living with him ever since, sometimes my Mother comes to visit but I wish she would just leave me alone” at her confused face he explained. “My mother was mentally abusive, and kept me isolated from most of the world. It wasn’t until I lived with my Father that I realized how shitty she was though” he finished, taking another bite from his burger.

They just sat there for a while, unmoving. That was until he reached out to take a sip of her drink, she followed the movements with a raised brow, at his smirk she slightly chuckled. “So...” he drawled out, indicating for her to finish, she sighed. “I lived with my mother up until I was eight” she started. “She was murdered and I was taken. Apparently my father didn’t take too kindly to her running off after they found out she was pregnant.”

”Of course I was beyond angry at him for what he did to my mother. Sure she was a bitch at times but she was the only person I had. He went to jail, for unrelated reasons, after that. My brothers were in and out of the house, so I enlisted in school and about four months later he was released. Forced me into the family business. High school kids are more prone to buy drugs than adults. Of course then the rumours came and he totally lost his shit. Went full on psycho, I had to leave for a while so I got my ass thrown in juvie. While I was locked up he got caught for some shit and now has to do 18 months with a chance of parole in 12” she replied in a monotone voice, not betraying how she actually felt.

“Why’d he go psycho” the youngest Wayne questioned, what rumours had her Father heard that would make her want to go to juvie. “That I was a slut” Damian couldn’t help but snort at that. “Yeah, he thought that I was doing it with everyone; high schoolers, felons, junkies, guys in their thirties” she gave him a small smile as she finished her burger. It was odd, he had never told anyone as much as he had told her. He believed that his mind was something for him and him alone, which drove everyone else crazy. But for some reason he was willing to tell her all of his inner thoughts. Then it struck him.

Thought? What do you mean he thought you did those things. No offence, but you have done those things” he told her with a face of confusion. She looked at him with dull eyes, and shook her head slightly. “I've only slept with one man, Damian, and it wasn’t even consensually” she said with the utmost seriousness, then again when wasn’t she serious? “What...what about the rumours?” he probed with a frown, he believed her, he was just taken aback that someone would spread such nasty lies about another person.

“A few weeks after I started school I was invited to this girl’s birthday party. There was this boy there and he tried to kiss me, I said no. Next thing I knew he told everyone that we had hooked up. Guess he got some of his friends into it too, because they made up shit as well” she shrugged, taking another one of his fries. “Why didn’t you deny it?” He asked. “I did it, but by then the damage was done. It only got worse when I became a freshmen” her eyes had clouded over, as if she was remembering something; something particularly painful.

“What about the guy your brother was talking about?” He inquired, looking her over. Snapping back into reality she answered. “My brother doesn’t know shit. I'm not sleeping with the guy, he's my Social Worker. I have to report to him every two weeks on how shit in my life’s going and based on that he deems whether I can continue living with my father or not” obviously she hadn’t told him the truth, or the entire truth at least. There was no way he would let her live with that maniac if he knew what really happened.

Her words bounced around in his mind. “I’ve only slept with one man, and it wasn’t even consensual. Wasn’t even consensual” she hadn’t given consent. “You were raped” he blurted out. she looked at him with a face of indifference. “Well I wouldn’t go so far to say that-“ “did you and this man have intercourse?” He cut her off. “Yes” she answered honestly, “did you give him consent” “No” she shook her head. “That means you were raped-“ she was about to protest but he continued “-he invaded your body without asking or having permission.”

“Even if you had given consent, that still makes him a pedophile, you have to report this” he couldn’t believe this. The girl everyone had belittled for being a slut was actually a rape victim. “I can't,” she whispered. “Why not” he raised his voice slightly, maybe she didn’t understand the magnitude of this situation, but he did. “Because in some fucked up way...I care about him” she laughed but there was no humour in it. Looking up at him he noticed the unshed tears in her eyes, and he knew that this was hurting her, breaking her. She was pleading with him to drop it. “Rae...” he trailed off, he was sorry for her, not in a pity kind of way, but in a you-don’t-deserve-this kind of way.

“Look,” she said, straightening up a bit. “It happened years ago, I have no way to prove that it even happened. The bastard is already in jail anyways” she said, reaching across the table to put her hand over his, not to take a fry. She smiled at him softly, he didn’t agree with her and was willing to take this to court, even pay for a lawyer, but there wasn’t much he could do if she didn’t want to. So, he just returned the smile.

It was weird, less than an hour ago he hadn’t spoken to her once, and now it felt like they knew each other better than anyone else. He had just thought of her as a skanky dealer, another criminal that should be locked up. It was true, what she had said, that everybody has a story. He silently vowed to never judge another person without truly knowing their story first. This may have been their first conversation, but something told him it wouldn’t be their last.

***

A/N: This came to me when I was watching Euphoria and Shameless videos :)

Papes - The paper you roll weed up in (I think, don’t know if that’s how you spell it)

Balmain Biker Jacket is this expensive leather jacket

[accidental-criminals]

To my Public Defenders

I finally got around to reading this speech, and it legit made me cry at my desk. I needed this message so badly right now. 

“How can you defend those people?” “How can you represent someone who is guilty?” What they are asking, in one version or another, is why are you a defender. So this is my best shot at answering the question - why are we defenders?

We are defenders because we believe that whether you are rich or poor or middle class, you deserve a fair chance in court.

We are defenders because we believe that the amount of money you spend on a lawyer should not dictate the quality of justice.

We are defenders because we believe that the biggest threat to our liberty and our freedoms comes not from an enemy from afar but from those who would sacrifice our freedoms in the name of order.

We are defenders because we believe that a person should not be judged solely by the worst thing they have ever done.

We are defenders because we believe that compassion is a sign of a society’s strength and is not a sign of weakness.

We are defenders because we apparently hae an aversion for money.

We are defenders because we believe in our system of justice, that although it has its weaknesses and problems, it is the system which honors the dignity of the individual.

We are defenders because we are liberals, liberals who believe that compassion and mercy are not signs of a weak society but of a great one.

We are defenders because we are conservatives, conservatives taht believe that our civil rights and our constitutional freedoms are not something to be weakened and sold off in the tough times.

We are defenders because we because we are irreverant and rude and question everything.

We are defenders because we feel sadness for the victims of crime, but believe that reconciliation and restoration should be a part of helping a victim and not just anger.

We are defenders because we feel sadness for our clients who were victims of tragedy well before they ever committed a crime.

We are defenders because we don’t think its right to lock up a fourteen year old in an adult prison.

We are defenders because we don’t think it’s right to lock up Mexican Nationals without due process of law for the crime of entering our country in search of work.

We are defenders because we believe that mercy has a place in our judicial system.

We are defenders because we love a fight and when we can’t find one we fight with each other.

We are defenders because we do not believe. . . that the risk of underincarceration outweighs the risk of imprisoning an innocent person.

We are defenders because we do not believe that the solution to violence is to inflict violence.

We are defenders because we do not believe that there is room for cruelty in our system of justice.

We are defenders because we can defend a man . . . and see in them the good qualities and the flame of humanity and not just see the horror of their acts.

We are defenders because we believe our Constitution is not just some words to be altered when the winds of change demand but a set of guiding principles of a great nation.

We are defenders because we beleive that all of us are equal in the eyes of the law no matter our color, religion, gender, sexual preference, or political belief.

We are defenders because we believe that accpetance and not mere tolerance is the goal of an enlightened society.

We are defenders because we like to hear ourselves speak and don’t know when to shut up.

We are defenders because we will not tolerate one out of every nineteen African American men in this country being locked up.

We are defenders because we believe the government should not be allowed to seize money and property to fill their coffers in the name of regulating public nuisances.

We are defenders because we do not believe punishment is ever appropriate, but because we beleive punishment should be our last resort and not our first.

We are defenders because we believe in victims’ rights but believe that the most under represented faction in our country is the victims of over imprisonment, the children without fathers, the men without futures, the women without hope or help.

We are defenders because we believe there actually should be a prohibition against cruel and unusual punishment.

We are defenders because we think it is cruel to inject another human being with poison that kills them.

We are defenders because we think it is cruel to label someone a felon merely because they are addicted to drugs.

We are defenders because we believe that sentencing should not be the application of a mathematical equation but should have room for compassion and to take into account the unique characteristics of the human before the court.

We are defenders because we don’t like bullies whether they be in gang colors, carry a law license or wear a black robe.

We are defenders because we believe justice should be tempered with mercy.

We are defenders because we every family and group of friends need a defender so that they can get free legal advice.

We are defenders because we get the privilege to see courage on a daily basis. Courage in the form of men and women sacrificing substantial portions of their lives to help someone who no one cares for or loves.

Courage in the form of witnesses overcoming fear to testify. 

Courage in the form of judges ruling in a manner which flies in the face of public opinion.

And yes, even courage of prosecutors who choose compassion when cruelty would be the easier route.

We are defenders because we love our country and would rather work on building and changing it rather than tearing it down.

We are defenders because we get to practice in the same building with [name redacted] who spend their little free time rasising money to buy Christmas presents for the children of [town redacted].

We are defenders because we get to say we are a colleague of a [name redacted] who spends her free time visiting old clients in prison.

We are defenders because we get to rub elbows with a [name redacted] who puts her own money on her clients’ books so that they can buy an occasional candy bar or a stick of deoderant.

We are defenders because we get to spend time with a [name redacted] who cries over her clients problems and feels their pain.

We are defenders because we get to turn around in a courtroom someday and see thirty PDs praying for life for your client who everyone else in the state hates.

We are defenders because we get to work with people of faith, such as Father [name redacted], who care and love and pray for our clients when no one else will.

We are defenders most of all because we have hope. Hope that our clients can change. Hope that we can leave our world better for our children. Hope that anger can be dissipated with love and compassion.Hope for the day when justice gives no quarter to cruelty.  Hope for a day when peacemakers and not preachers of anger are our leaders.

Hope is the most important reason we all became defenders and its why I will continue to be a defender - proud to stand with each of you and proud to stand in a courtroom and speak for the poor and the weak and the downtrodden.

This speech was shared in a criminal defense listserv a while back, and I saved it to read later. Unfortuantely, I cannot find the original email to locate the name of the attorney in order to credit him. If anybody knows who these words belong to, please let me know so I can credit him in this post.