#I probably know less than you do

[theonewithallthefixations]

Why do people think I know stuff? Like, of all people, why me, the stupidest person to roam the planet?

[hinamie]

siren!megumi concept sheet i whipped up in a single-minded fever state fr @uriekukistan

[starcurtain]

I know I've talked a lot about Alhaitham actually being one of the funniest characters in Genshin Impact, but every time I think about him, I find something new to laugh at.

Alhaitham's character stories and personal criticisms of Kaveh largely hinge on one specific point: That Kaveh's genius intellect and artistic abilities are incongruous with his idealism. Kaveh possesses more talent than a selfless person should reasonably have, leaving him vulnerable to constantly being taken advantage of.

However, Alhaitham states these complaints about Kaveh's personality while having the exact same problem himself.

Alhaitham is literally the definition of "personality and talents do not match." Sir, you are the pot calling the kettle black.

It's a given: Alhaitham is exceedingly competent. He is intelligent, rational, and capable of being impartial when needed. Despite being a slacker as the Akademiya's scribe, during his stint as the Acting Grand Sage, the game goes out of its way to note--in several places--that Alhaitham was actually going above and beyond what was expected of him, taking the position very seriously, uncovering and fixing major issues in the Akademiya, and demonstrating a deep care for the sanctity and future of the Akademiya as a whole when Sumeru's people's will to research and learn declined after the collapse of the Akasha.

By all accounts, Alhaitham is (was) a fantastic Grand Sage. Compared to Azar, who is shown as inherently self-aggrandizing and unconcerned with Sumeru's well-being, Alhaitham genuinely did his best during his brief time as Sumeru's leader, protecting students' research, concerning himself with how to address the people's problems, and even diving in to solve mysteries that normally would have been left for the matra. As Acting Grand Sage, we're told his behavior and judgments were fair, and he addressed problems immediately and with his full effort.

In short, there is literally no one else more qualified to be Grand Sage than Alhaitham.

And yet, despite possessing every talent needed to be the leader of a nation, Alhaitham doesn't have the personality for it. He has every single trait a good leader requires... And yet he refuses to be a leader. His own talent vastly exceeds the slow-paced life his personality leads him to seek, making his particular abilities more incongruous with his values than Kaveh's--by a mile. People keep trying to promote him into positions of leadership because his talents are so obvious, and yet he does everything in his power to deny his own abilities and instead fly under the radar--and under the level of his full potential too.

Awful hypocritical for you to claim Kaveh's talents don't match his personality when yours match even less, Alhaitham...

[bacchuschucklefuck]

I know a normal amount abt waistcoats

[egophiliac]

do you have youtube channel?

technically yes, but I just use it to host unlisted videos for embedding, so there's nothing, like, public on it. :') sorry! I basically don't post anywhere except here and occasionally on pixiv (in case it's not obvious, I suck at social media).

[thereigning-lorelai]

(insp)

[stiffyck]

Guys why aren't we making Scar a red panda hybrid

[rillils]

🌸 post-catws stucky + lovers’ kiss

one.

The thing about grief is, it has a habit of dropping by every once in a while, unannounced and insistent like a nosy suburban neighbor.

It’s a contrary little creature. Some days it strikes hard, and crushes Steve’s chest with the brutal force of a frothing waterfall. Sometimes, though, it comes in droplets; little pills that get stuck in his throat for a minute, until he can swallow them down.

Steve doesn’t mind those too much: sure, the aftertaste is bitter – but there’s always a spoonful of honey at hand to help wash it down.

two.

There’s a morning ritual Steve is particularly fond of.

When the coffee has been made, and the first sip taken, he nudges their mugs to the side, and crowds Bucky back against the kitchen counter, arms braced on either side of him to box him in. Bucky watches him come with a knowing grin, a gleam in his eyes that says, well, all right, he’ll let Steve believe that he’s leading this little dance here, just this once.

But it’s Bucky who pulls him in the rest of the way; Bucky who sets his hands low around Steve’s waist, and brings their bodies flush together from hip to knee, delight written in the pretty curve of his lips.

“Hey there, sailor,” he teases. His morning voice is a dark, rich thing, rough around the edges but soft at its core, sweet with that old Brooklyn drawl that brings Steve right back home.

“Hey there, sweetheart,” he chuckles against Bucky’s smiling lips, their breaths warm between them. “Fancy meetin’ ya here.”

It’s a ritual. Aren’t all kisses a ritual? Well-learned steps and a worshipful heart, the motions so ingrained they come naturally to your limbs.

Their mouths brush together, easy. Unrushed, like time will slow down for them if they’ll just deign to ask.

Bucky’s head tilts just so in Steve’s hands, and the kiss opens up, spilling its molten heat on Steve’s tongue, stroking inside to taste him, easy, easy.

It’s a long-practiced dance. If Bucky pushes, Steve will give; if Steve strays to flutter kisses all over Bucky’s bristly cheek, Bucky will grin and chase after him, and steer Steve back towards his lips.

It’s lazy. Uncomplicated. It’s their first conversation of the day, and Steve can just make out the words in the whisper of Bucky’s hair running through the gaps between his fingers; in the hushed rustle of his own t-shirt, when Bucky’s hand slips under the hem and slides warmly up the dip of Steve’s spine, leaving a trail of pebbled skin in its wake.

You’re here, Bucky’s touch says, awed and reverent.

Always, Steve says back, and kisses that vow to Bucky’s lips for Bucky to find later, when he’ll brush his fingertips against it, and the well-loved flush of his mouth, red and sweetly sore, will remind him of this. Of always.

Parting from him is agony, but breathing is an unfortunate necessity in life – so Steve pulls back, though only just enough to drink Bucky in, his arms wrapped snugly around Bucky’s waist to hold him close.

He’s a sight to behold, all soft and loved up and ruffled from Steve’s own hands, his smile like a ripe fruit framed by the fullness of his beard. His eyes crinkle with it, each little crease a testament to his happiness – and Steve knows he’s gonna have to take his time kissing each and every one of those later, or he’ll simply be driven to madness.

He should get to have a whole lifetime of this, Steve thinks – a lifetime to dedicate just to this little pleasure. Seventy years at least, to make up for the seventy years gone by that could have seen them grow old and gray together, but were stolen from them instead – and then seventy years more, ninety, a hundred, as many as his old withering body will stand and breathe for.

This will be his only job: the worship of Bucky’s laugh lines, of the curling wisps of his bedhead, of his eyelashes fanning darkly against the pad of Steve’s thumb. Cherishing this treasure he holds in his hands – the one he once thought gone forever.

There it is now: a little pill lodged in his throat. The cold hand of grief squeezing around his heart again, just for a moment.

Bucky’s palms cup his cheeks, drawing Steve’s gaze up to meet his.

“Hey,” he murmurs, gentler than before, his thumb stroking soothingly over Steve’s cheekbone. “You’ve got your thinking face on. What’s wrong?”

Steve covers Bucky’s hand with his own, turning his mouth to it to kiss the warm, unyielding metal of Bucky’s palm.

“Nothing’s wrong,” he promises, leaning in to nudge to tip of his nose against Bucky’s, like a puppy. “Just busy coming up with an excuse to kiss you some more.”

Bucky’s breath puffs warmly against his lips. “Yeah? Had any luck yet?”

Steve hums pleasantly, “Mm-mmm”, locking his fingers together just above the small of Bucky’s back, and gently sways the two of them from side to side. Bucky snorts, amused, but he allows it; dropping his hands to rest on Steve’s shoulders as Steve rocks them slowly, left to right, right to left.

“Here’s what I think,” Steve rumbles. “I think I ought to give you one kiss for each day we were apart since 1945.”

Bucky stares back at him, his lips parted slightly in surprise. He takes Steve in, wordlessly, studying him from the arch of his eyebrows, to the half-crooked slope of his nose, to the hopeful smile Steve knows he must be sporting right now. There is much left unsaid, Steve can feel its weight hanging in the air between them, recognizes it by taste and sound.

But Bucky’s gray eyes shimmer, nearly crystal-clear, and they fill with the kind of big, heart-twisting emotion that cannot fit under a single label; one that is equal parts ache and tenderness, and Steve understands – his chest feels too-tight around that same ache, too.

“That’s a lot of kisses,” Bucky rasps softly, and his hand skates up Steve’s shoulder to curl over the nape of his neck, herding him one inch closer into Bucky’s space.

“Yes,” Steve whispers, leaning in the rest of the way to mash their foreheads together. He can feel his own heart beat inside his chest, a quick and steady rhythm, and a rushing sense of victory bubbles straight up to his lips, sweet and light as air. “Exactly.”

Bucky laughs, a little wetly, and laughs ever harder when Steve tries to kiss him and gets all teeth and half a nostril instead – his head thrown back and his whole body shaking joyfully, while Steve ducks in to kiss what bristly portion of Bucky’s neck he can reach.

A treasure, Steve thinks.

A treasure in his hands, and forever to hold on to it.

three.

He sits himself down at the table with a sheet of paper, a pen and a calculator, a bunch of dates marked down and circled over and over in the topmost corner.

Bucky watches him from across the room, amused and – Steve believes – a little bit impressed.

“You’re really gonna do this?”

Steve smiles up at him, throwing in one teasing wiggle of his eyebrows for good measure.

“I’m a man of my word.”

It takes nearly a whole hour of focused scribbling before he looks up again, a wide grin lit up like Christmas on his face and a torn piece of paper held up in triumph. “I have the number.”

25109.

Seventy years’ worth of daily kisses.

It’s quite the commitment. It requires dedication. But good things are always worth putting in the work, Bucky tells him, eyes dancing with laughter; and when he settles in Steve’s lap, heavy and warm in Steve’s arms, and brushes their mouths together to claim the first of what he was promised, Steve can’t help but agree.

four.

25109 kisses Steve owes him, and he initiates quite a few; but mostly, he lets Bucky ask for them, when and where the mood strikes him to do so.

When he’s right on the verge of sleep, his face half-swallowed up by his pillow, and he can’t even peel his eyes open long enough to receive his kiss – he just tips his chin up and waits for Steve to scoot closer and find his mouth, drowsily humming in satisfaction.

When he lets Steve slip into the shower with him, and slides his hands up Steve’s chest, sweet and proprietary, and their breaths mingle with the hot steam.

When he’s got his head in Steve’s lap while Steve reads, and Steve’s fingers carding through his hair at leisure; and Steve catches Bucky watching him from under his eyelashes, and trying to hide that private little grin of his, because apparently Steve was silently mouthing the words again without realizing it.

“Kiss me special, Stevie,” he’ll croon, and Steve will know.

And he’ll be all too happy to comply.

five.

Steve is supposed to keep score. He does, too. For the most part.

Once every couple of weeks or so, though, he’ll just so happen to conveniently lose count.

He’ll roll out of bed with singular purpose, and break the tragic news to Bucky over their morning coffee, barefoot and forlorn. Bucky never buys his little sob story, but that never stops Steve from batting his eyelashes at him all prettily, either.

He’ll guide Bucky’s arms to loop around his neck, luring him in, soft and stealthy like a thief, and he’ll mumble real close to Bucky’s lips, “Let’s start over again.”

And Bucky, sweet, merciful, long-suffering Bucky, will accept his fate and be kissed breathless once more, right in front of their placidly steaming mugs.

“There,” Steve will murmur, again, and again, and again. “One down, 25108 to go.”

Oh, one life won’t be enough to see the end of this, no.

And that’s exactly Steve’s plan.

***

little sidenote nobody asked for lol: obviously the number of days/kisses varies depending on when you think the boys were reunited; my wishful thinking headcanon for this specific fic is: post-helicarrier, they find each other again sometime in the fall, 2014. the ficlet is set sometime in late spring 2016, and ignores everything that comes after catws.

[skitskatdacat63]

I've decided to do myself what the cowards at Aston won't. Behold.

[myokk]

before it felt like a sin, ch. 2

ch.1

pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

word count: 6900

summary: Eloise never wanted to be different.

And yet, her differences are what have defined her life up until this point: growing up as a squib in one of the most prominent wizarding families, being exiled to muggle society, and then attending Hogwarts at the age of sixteen.

She finds herself thrust into the life she should have been prepared for from birth but was denied. As she navigates this new life and her new precarious position in her family, she must come to terms with the fact that maybe what she dreamed of her whole life isn't turning out how she ever expected it would.

a/n: here's chapter 2!! I just wanted to add these amazing beautiful drawings I look back on allllllll the time, by @kay9leo 🥹🫶 I LOVE YOU SO MUCH !!!!! 😙💓😙💓😙💓

I also want to reiterate that this fic is REALLY CANON DIVERGENT!!!!! I will NOT be following the game’s plot at all really with this (it really starts to diverge around chapter 6/7 maybe I don’t remember), and I don’t see Eloise as the game’s MC either.

Things were definitely not going as planned…not that Eloise had really known what to expect. Almost from the moment the portkey had brought her to meet Professor Fig, it seemed like everything had gone from bad to worse.

And it had all started out so well. He had handed her the provisional wand, and upon contact the magic coursing through her had been exhilarating. Finally Eloise was able to experience what she had dreamed of for so long. All too soon, however, she was putting the wand to use in ways she hadn’t imagined. Watching Mr. Ospric die had made her blood run cold but then she didn’t have the luxury of processing the shock as so much was happening at once and there was a dragon and death and then…another portkey? Before she knew it, she was fighting some sort of sentient guardians in some mysterious Gringott’s vault and there was concrete proof of the goblin uprising…it was simply too much to take in at once.

Now, she was standing in front of the ornate entrance to a room Professor Fig had called the “Great Hall”. He checked the pocketwatch inside his robes again, and muttered (more to himself than anything) “hopefully the sorting is still going on…” and then in a louder voice as he glanced at Eloise - “come along then, young Eloise!”

He peered more closely at her then, taking in her pale appearance and added in a kinder tone, “I’m sure you’re hungry. We’ll just head in and get you sorted into your house, and then an early night for the both of us. Don’t worry about the things that were lost in the attack - I’m sure one of your new housemates will share her things with you until they are replaced.”

With that, he pushed open the doors and ushered her in. In any normal circumstances, Eloise was sure that she would have been absolutely in awe of the breathtaking appearance that greeted her. It was simply…for lack of a better word, magical. The ceiling was enchanted to look like the night sky above the castle, stars glimmering through the wispy purple clouds that covered the ceiling. There were thousands of candles floating in the air, illuminating the hall in a soft, golden light.

She couldn’t focus on any of that.

As soon as Fig opened the double doors, the low chatter that filled the Great Hall slowly faded as everyone turned to look at who had entered. Eloise froze. Hundreds of faces all staring at her, filled with curiosity.

Judging her.

They must all know that she was a squib and didn’t actually belong there.

No. She had proved her magical capabilities earlier that day, albeit in a different manner than she had expected. She deserved to be here just as much as they did.

The teacher at the far end of the hall was saying something and the students surrounding her had begun to whisper amongst themselves. There was so much buzzing in her ears that she didn’t hear a word that was said. Then, a familiar voice - how in the world could it still be familiar after so much time? - broke through the fog and her head turned sharply to the side at the noise.

“Eloise?”

Her gaze met familiar hazel eyes as Leo quickly stood up, taking a step towards her before he caught himself and stayed where he was. If the shock hadn’t already been apparent enough in his voice, one look at his expression told Eloise everything. He hadn’t had any idea that she had been accepted to Hogwarts. After she had been burned off of the family tree by her mother, it was like she didn’t exist anymore. Of course he hadn’t known that she would be there.

Leo had changed since Eloise last saw him. Of course he did, she thought to herself. It had been five years, after all. The same unruly black curls, same eyes. And yet…he almost seemed a stranger to her. He was taller, face more angular and defined than it had been at thirteen. Voice deeper. But, the expression of vulnerability and guilt written all over his face was something she recognized well. It was the same expression that he had had the last time he saw her, the face she sometimes saw before falling asleep. Just as quickly as it flashed across his face however, it was gone, hidden behind a stony exterior. His expression hardened and he sat down just as quickly as he had stood up, quickly averting his eyes. The people around him were looking between them curiously, but before Eloise could even begin to process this new situation, she felt a gentle push on her shoulder.

Professor Fig had been talking to her. “…the Sorting Hat. You need to go up and get sorted into your house.”

She looked up at him and realized that he was gesturing to the front of the Great Hall, vaguely recalling how Leo had described the sorting ceremony in his first letter home from Hogwarts. Everyone was still staring.

Well, let them, she thought. Eloise tossed her braid over her shoulder and lifted her head high, straightening her posture in the meantime. Did it matter if everyone was staring at her? She determined that if people were going to be whispering about her, speculating about her, she would give them something to talk about. About the girl who was admitted in her fifth-year at Hogwarts. The girl who surpassed them all.

Eloise shook off Professor Fig’s hand and walked to the raised platform, where there was a stool and a professor waiting with an ancient wizarding hat in her hands. As Eloise sat down, a semicircle of professors behind her and the tables of students in front of her, the hat was placed on top of her head. It was so formless and well-worn that the faded fabric slid over her eyes and she was surrounded by darkness.

Hmm…interesting, a voice purred in her mind. Eloise jumped at the sound. Don’t worry, dear. I won’t hurt you, although I suppose that not everyone would say that. My, my. You have had a rough go of things, haven’t you?

It’s not often I get to sort a new fifth-year student. She realized that it was the hat talking to her. Always much more interesting, you see. The first-years are always fun because I get to see their potential and who they will turn out to be, but even that can be fallible sometimes. People are shaped by their experiences.

An older student, though? Someone closer to the person they will be, with more experiences that have shaped them? Oh yes, these are the ones I like the most.

Wait, thought Eloise. You’ve sorted others like me before?

Oh yes. A pause. The voice purred in her ear. I can see the hunger for knowledge in you. But…Ravenclaw seems too simplistic. Behind the intelligence lies great ambition. A desire to prove yourself. Prove you belong. Yes, you may have had a rough life but you have managed to use what’s around you to your advantage. So, you must be a…

“SLYTHERIN!”

Eloise started at the sudden shout, realizing that it must have been out loud. As the hat was pulled off of her head, she could see the students at the table at the far end of the hall, the one Leo was at, break into furious whispers amongst each other. The teacher with her smiled kindly and pointed Eloise in their direction. “That’s the Slytherin table, dear. Once you sit down, we can begin eating.”

Eloise got up numbly and slowly walked towards the table. The whispering got louder as she neared it, and the students kept shooting her glances. Most seemed simply curious about the new, older student who had just been sorted into Slytherin, but others looked at her with hostility. Two students moved aside and motioned to her.

“Figured you would rather sit with us than the first years.”

The girl who spoke gave her an appraising look, taking in her muggle clothing and mussed-up hair. Eloise sat down next to her, nervously smoothing her hands over her skirt. Now that the sorting was over and she was actually interacting with her future classmates, she felt exhausted and completely unable to keep up her facade of nonchalance.

“I was going to ask if you like quidditch but…judging by your clothes -“

“Gods, Imelda,” came a drawling voice to Eloise’s left. “Can’t you give the poor girl a break? Not even one second at our table and you’re already trying to recruit her for the team.”

The boy who spoke gave an amused look to Imelda before turning to Eloise. “You’ll want to watch out for that one - if she even gets a whiff of the fact you can fly a broom, she’ll be out to recruit -“

“It’s not my fault!” Imelda interrupted forcefully, smacking her hands on the table and leaning over Eloise to talk to him. “Our best players all graduated last year and I have it cut out for me -“

“- you to the Slytherin team,” the boy concluded, ignoring Imelda’s heated protests. She sat back with a huff and crossed her arms. “Just ignore her. It’s what we’ve found works best. I’m Sebastian Sallow and this is Ominis Gaunt. Two people you will actually want to spend time with.”

He stuck his tongue out at Imelda as he held his hand out to Eloise. The boy across from them snickered quietly to himself as he listened to Imelda splutter in denial. Eloise shook Sebastian’s hand hesitantly. “Eloise. And actually,” she added, turning to Imelda, “I do know what quidditch is. Unfortunately, I’ve never ridden a broom though.”

That got Imelda going again, this time about how it was absolutely impossible that someone could know about the existence of quidditch without ever touching a broom. She seemed to be of the opinion that knowing of its existence meant an undying desire to learn how to play. “So you’re not a mudblood, then? Oh, who am I kidding - of course you’re not. We’re in Slytherin, after all. But how…”

Fortunately, food started appearing on the table before Imelda could finish her thought. It was enough to move her attention from Eloise as she began to pile different foods on her plate. To be quite honest, Eloise was relieved. She wasn’t sure how much she wanted to tell others about her circumstances, especially during this first night before she knew anyone. Would they think differently of her if they knew that she had been disowned from her family and presumed a squib?

Who was she kidding? Of course everyone would judge her for that. Besides, she knew she wanted to talk to Leo before revealing anything - maybe he could help her get a feel for how to approach the situation. If he wanted to even associate with her, that is. Once again, the thought passed through her mind that he could have changed through the years, just as she had. Their parents could be quite persuasive, and more often than not the two siblings had learned that it was easier to go along with them than against.

Leo had grown up with the adoration of their parents, showing magical prowess at the young age of three, when his favorite toys started following him around in a little parade. Eloise, on the other hand…as the years passed and she still wasn’t showing signs of anything at all, not even a measly show of a sneeze blowing her away, their parents started working to distance the siblings from each other. It hadn’t been very effective and yet…without her presence, she could see him moving on in his life. Just as she had tried to do.

A sharp poke to her side. Eloise jumped and looked at Sebastian. “Aren’t you going to eat anything? You need to grab the good things before they’re gone - it’s every man out for himself during the feasts.”

She looked around and, sure enough, the food on the plates was steadily going down. It all looked absolutely delicious - mountains of meat, bread, puddings…her stomach growled loudly as she took it all in. Eloise hurriedly started putting the closest food to her on her plate, reaching over to give herself a heaping serving of mashed potatoes on the side. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” he replied after swallowing the food he was eating. “I’m sure you’ve had a long day if you arrived that late to the sorting ceremony. As you walked up to the stool, Ominis and I had a bet about which house you would be sorted into. I told him, after my first glance at you, that I could tell you’d be one of us, but unfortunately, he - “

“Hey! I can hear you,” Ominis said from across the table, leaning forward slightly. Eloise realized that he was blind - his eyes had no pupils at all. His gaze was unfocused but his head turned in her direction. He explained, “I could only sense your form as you walked down the Hall. And, for the record, before Sebastian can say otherwise, I said I could tell you would be a Slytherin. Will the blind jokes ever get old?”

“As long as I have breath in my body - hey!”

Ominis had thrown a roll at Sebastian’s head which, surprisingly, hit its mark.

“I might not be able to see what just happened, but I know that I’ve just won,” Ominis said smugly, returning his attention to his plate.

Eloise just sat there, not really knowing how to react. This time, it was Imelda’s turn to say, “just ignore them. Luckily, we won’t need to see much more of them as the feast’s finishing up.” She wrinkled her nose in Sebastian’s direction, a gesture that was swiftly returned. Even though she had just met the three of them, Eloise couldn’t help but feel happy just listening to their back-and-forth. She did feel a twinge of…something, though, knowing that she could have been with them since their first year, if only her magic had shown itself sooner.

Mountains of dessert started to replace the remnants of the dinner: plum pudding, lemon tarts, cakes…it was more dessert in one place than Eloise had ever seen in her life. None of the students held back at all trying to get their favorites, especially if it was at the expense of another. The atmosphere was electric - everyone was excited to be back among their friends and catch up over everything that had happened the summer before, and Eloise was happy to just be among them.

She reached for a lemon tart, and when she looked up, she saw that Leo was staring at her intently. He looked away as soon as they made eye contact, but the moment didn’t go past Imelda’s notice.

“Do you know him?” she asked, nodding towards Leo. Eloise flushed and looked down at her plate, nodding reluctantly. She knew as soon as they went through role call the next day, everyone would know that she was a Babbit.

“Yes, he’s…er -“

Eloise broke off, grabbing the nearest goblet of pumpkin juice and drinking the whole thing in one go. When she came up for air, Imelda was still looking at her expectantly. Eloise took a deep breath and tried continuing, but… “I’m not really sure,” is all that came out of her mouth.

Imelda furrowed her brow, clearly trying to figure out how that answer made sense and Eloise wasn’t about to clarify for her. Although it wouldn’t be long before it got out that they were siblings, she wasn’t sure how much she wanted these new acquaintances to know about her at the moment. She had had enough pitying looks to last her a lifetime, and she just knew that once they found out she had been a squib…

“Hey Sebastian,” a pretty blonde girl said, leaning towards the group. She shot Eloise a curious glance but quickly looked back at her target. “Where’s Anne? Is she still gone this year? What a pity…the two of you are…were…sewn together at the hip and I was looking forward to finally being the one who gets between the two of you this year.” At this, the girls surrounding her started tittering and she flipped her hair over her shoulder and pouted. “I thought there would be more of a challenge. But if you’re going to be the changed Sebastian again this year…”

“Who’s…” Eloise trailed off as she saw Sebastian’s expression. It had changed into something almost unrecognizable - at least, to someone who had only known him for all of forty-five minutes. He was looking at the girl with a mixture of barely-controlled fury and…something else that Eloise couldn’t quite place. She shrank away from him as she took in his stricken expression.

“She’s still sick,” he said shortly as he stood up. His hands bunched into tight fists and his body was shaking. Sebastian quickly turned and stormed down the hall. They all watched him go in silence; once he left, the blonde girl turned to Ominis.

“Gods, what’s his problem? So what if she misses a few days of school?” She looked around at everyone, pouting. “You all know I’m right. Last year he was a mess but he should be getting over it by now.”

“You always speak before thinking, Victoria,” Ominis said tersely, getting up. “One of these days, it’s going to get you in trouble. If you keep this up, when that happens nobody will be around to help you pick up the pieces.” With that, he strode away after Sebastian.

Eloise blinked and looked around. The rest of the students were starting to get up and slowly move towards their respective common rooms having finished their dessert, and the prefects were starting to herd the first-years along. Victoria laughed weakly and turned to her friends, effectively ignoring Eloise and Imelda as if they weren’t there. “I think the summer holidays have made people extra sensitive this year. I honestly don’t know what their problem is.”

“Come on, then,” said Imelda, shooting Victoria a dirty look. “Let’s head to the dorms.”

Eloise stood up and started following Imelda’s lead. She was parting the students with ease as she walked through the crowd. Her strides were so long that Eloise had to half-jog to keep up with her. “Our common room is in the dungeons,” Imelda said, looking over her shoulder at Eloise. “The other houses are creeped out by it, but they haven’t actually seen it. You’ll see.”

Because of how quickly Imelda strode through the corridors and down the stairs, Eloise didn’t have much time to take in the rest of the castle. She did however realize that they were winding through the corridors in such a way that she would be hopelessly lost if Imelda weren’t with her. The two of them arrived at the Slytherin common room well before the other students due to Imelda’s fast pace. As they entered the common room after saying the correct password - basilisk - Eloise couldn’t help but look around in wonder. There was light piano music playing in the background - Chopin, Eloise thought she recognized it from her piano lessons at the muggle school. Even though the overall tones of the place were cool - blues and greens filtering through the tall glass windows and from the lamps, the checkered marble floors and columns giving off an air of cold elegance - the beautiful rugs and happily crackling fires made it all come together and seem oddly cozy. Various tables and desks were scattered around the space, and comfortable looking armchairs and couches crowded around low tables. Eloise could just picture it teeming with students studying after class or hanging out on the weekends. She knew that it was a place that could finally feel like home to her.

“I tried, Ominis,” came a hushed whisper from near the windows. Imelda and Eloise froze at the entrance to the common room and glanced at each other. “I just can’t do it. I know what you and Anne told me but…”

“Sebastian. Anne doesn’t want you to wallow and waste your time here worrying about her. I know that you’re worried for her. I mean, I am too. You know she’s like a sister to me.”

“You have no idea,” Sebastian interrupted fiercely. His back was hunched over and he was holding his face in his hands. “It should have been me. I can’t live with myself. With this guilt.”

“No, you -“ Ominis cut himself off as the sound of the other students filtering in started to fill the room. The boys abruptly sat up straighter, although they didn’t look at each other. Oblivious to the tension between the two, a group of second-years sat on the sofa right next to them, as they excitedly caught up with each other.

“I’ll show you our room,” Imelda said, turning to Eloise. “It gets pretty crazy here the first night back from any holidays, with everyone catching up. I don’t know about you, but I want to get some sleep! Quidditch tryouts are next week and I already know how exhausting it will be.”

Eloise really was exhausted, and nothing sounded better to her than finally going to sleep. The dorms seemed to be set up so that the stairs going up led to the girls’ dormitories, and the ones going down to the boys’. Imelda explained that it was due to the fact that boys weren’t to be trusted, and the stairs would turn into a slide if any boy attempted to go up them. It wasn’t something that Eloise had even considered, due to the fact that she had just come from an all-girls school, but she flushed at the implication.

As they reached the staircase, they almost crashed into Sebastian. Imelda had been marching towards the stairs with a single-minded determination and Sebastian had been heading towards his with just as much purpose.

Eloise bounced off of his shoulder. She grabbed her own, wincing slightly. He was more solid than he looked. He looked blankly at the two girls before shaking his head and realizing where they were. “Gods, I’m so sorry. I’m just -“ he gave his head another little shake and saw that Eloise was holding her shoulder. “Are you hurt?”

“It’s fine,” Eloise reassured him. She gave a small smile. “I’ve had worse, it’s really nothing.”

“Yeah, yeah,” interrupted Imelda. She shot Sebastian a concerned look. “Go to bed. We’ll see you tomorrow.”

Imelda shook her head sadly and the girls resumed their path. “Poor boy. He hasn’t been the same since the summer after our third year. I mean, he was always kind of obsessive, but in a charming way. He was on the quidditch team with me, and always really determined to be the absolute best, always working hard to show all of the other students they don’t even know half as much as he does. That sort of thing, you know? It’s not like he was insufferable, his charm drew everyone to him.”

She held the door open and Eloise walked in. It was a cozy circular room, with five four-poster beds. A small fire in the middle of the room warmed the whole place up, and Eloise was relieved to see it. When Imelda had told her that their dormitory was in the dungeons, she had immediately pictured a dark, cold, slimy space. Only one of the beds didn’t have trunks placed at its foot, and Eloise went straight to it. Her trunk had been lost in the dragon attack. She was relieved to see a nightgown laid on top of the bed and a pair of green slippers neatly lined up on the floor; she hadn’t been sure what she would wear.

Imelda sat down heavily on the bed next to Eloise’s and started unlacing her boots. She continued talking. “Then, in our fourth year, he comes to school after summer holidays. Alone. He hasn’t been the same since. Nobody’s quite sure what’s going on with his sister, except that it’s bad. She’s not expected to live much longer.”

“Oh my god,” breathed Eloise. “I can’t even imagine.”

“Me neither.” Imelda shook her head. “He got into trouble left and right last year, there were even rumors of a duel…I don’t think there was a single week where he didn’t have detention. I mean, I don’t blame him, but - he was taken off the team! This year he better not, I can’t afford to lose my best beater again.”

The girls continued chattering quietly to themselves about other topics as they got ready for the night. Slipping into their nightgowns, braiding each others’ hair, and, finally, slipping under the freshly turned bed covers. Eloise turned towards Imelda and simply whispered, “thank you.” Although they had just met, Eloise felt certain in the knowledge that she had just made her first friend.

Imelda waved her off. “It’s nothing. Get some sleep, the first day of classes is always overwhelming. I can’t even imagine starting as a fifth-year.”

With that, she rolled over and soon Eloise heard her breathing deepen as she fell asleep. She stared at the canopy covering her bed for what seemed like an eternity. The low murmurs of the other girls as they came in and got ready for bed slowly morphed into drowsy good-nights, until finally the room was silent except for the steady tick of a clock and their breathing.

As tired as she felt, Eloise couldn’t stop the racing of her mind. It felt like the last few days had more action than the entirety of her life. Even though banished had, at the time, been incredibly momentous for her, it paled in comparison to finding out that she actually was a witch and had been admitted to Hogwarts. She had used magic for the first time today. The rush of power that ran through her body when she cast spells was unlike anything else she had ever experienced. It just felt right. Like some part of her that had been hidden away had finally made itself known and she felt whole for the first time. She wondered if everyone else felt that same rush, that same desire to know and master absolutely every aspect of magical knowledge. She had been given a gift that until now had felt like a pathetic little daydream and she wasn’t about to waste it now that she had it.

The clock kept on ticking lazily and still Eloise was awake. She eventually got up and after shrugging on a robe and slipping on the green slippers, headed towards the common room. She and Imelda hadn’t spent much time in it earlier, and she wanted to see it at least once without any people, maybe as a space just for herself.

As it was even later in the night - it must have been around three - the fire had been extinguished and the light filtering through the windows had turned an even deeper shade of emerald green. It covered the mahogany furniture with an eerie light, as if Eloise had stepped into some strange underworld instead of the empty Slytherin common room. She trailed her hand along the velvet back of a sofa, mesmerized by the stark contrast of the green highlights and black shadows as her hand moved. Lazily twirling a globe as she walked past, the room silent except for her muffled footsteps.

It was precisely the silence that absorbed her completely. Being alone had always been her favorite thing; there was just something so special about being the only person in a place, feeling as if you were the only holder of some great secret. Eloise made her way towards the tall glass windows as if in a dream, not really noticing anything of her surroundings and yet taking it all in. The feeling of being there.

When she heard the soft voice she nearly jumped out of her skin.

“You couldn’t sleep either?”

Eloise whirled towards the voice, feeling as if her heart was about to burst through her chest. The student - a male - was sitting by one of the windows. Since the only light source was the windows, his face was entirely shrouded in black. Eloise was suddenly very aware of how indecently she was dressed to be outside of her dormitory. The sudden change from complete, eerie tranquility was shattered and she wrapped her robe more tightly around her, keeping her arms hugged around her body.

“Who -“

The boy straightened up, tilting his head back toward the window and, with the aid of the green light, Eloise saw that it was Ominis.

“What are you doing down here, Ominis? You almost gave me a heart attack! You’re sitting in the shadows and I thought I was alone.”

“I could ask the same of you,” he said simply, the hint of an amused smirk gracing his features. “And, might I add, I didn’t mean to scare you on purpose. I thought you were purposely walking towards me. For all I know, it could be the break of dawn and I’m basking in the early rays of the sun.”

Eloise’s jaw dropped open in mortification. She had completely forgotten that he was blind. “How did you know that I was walking towards you?” She clapped her hands over her mouth in horror, the words leaving before she could stop them. What was wrong with her? With her sudden movement, her robes had fallen open again, revealing her nightgown, but she was too distraught over possibly having offended Ominis than continuing to follow the rules of propriety. “Oh Merlin’s beard, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”

He just huffed quietly. They hadn’t spoken much at dinner, and Eloise was positive that he was angry with her. Maybe he had only acknowledged her presence because his best friend had seen fit to talk with her. Growing up blind, it would make sense for him to be sensitive to any comments regarding it…her face was flushed with mortification and guilt, and she slowly started backing away. Eloise figured it was better to just end the whole encounter being ruder still by making a hasty retreat, than to put her foot in her mouth once again and risk offending him more.

“No, wait,” Ominis said as soon as he realized she was walking away. His voice was choked with emotion and it seemed difficult for him to get the words out. Eloise froze and looked at him. His whole body was shaking, and she couldn’t tell if he was angry or…

Was he laughing?

“I might be blind, but I’m not deaf. In this silence, I would have been able to notice if anyone had entered the room even if they were trying to be sneaky, which you certainly were not. Stay, if you want.”

Eloise hesitated, then took the seat across from Ominis in the window. She nervously smoothed her nightgown over her legs. “Just so you know, you’re completely in shadow. If you hadn’t said anything, I probably would have walked right past you without realizing that you were here too.”

“I’ll choose a better spot to sit next time then, when I can’t fall asleep in the middle of the night,” he replied seriously. If not for the fact that he had just been teasing her, she would have thought that he was really taking what she said into consideration. “You never answered my original question. You can’t sleep?”

Eloise shook her head, then quickly added, “no. So much has happened these last few days…my brain always has a hard time turning off. Especially after a day like today.”

Ominis hummed in understanding, tilting his head towards her. The green light filtering through the water danced over his gaunt features, making his cheekbones and the dark circles under his eyes more prominent. His pupil-less eyes glowed eerily in the light. “I can only imagine. You arrived late to the sorting, and your aura was very unnerving as you stepped into the Great Hall. I immediately knew something was extraordinary about you.”

“My…aura?”

“Yes. I might not be able to see, but my wand does it for me. It’s hard to explain but…I can sense the people around me. I can’t make out features, but everyone has their own unique aura radiating from them. Yours is…different.”

Different? It must have something to do with the fact she hadn’t had any magical ability until recently. Maybe it was stunted or…maybe her aura was different due to the stress of the day.

“I saw someone murdered in front of me today,” Eloise blurted out before she could stop herself. Ominis didn’t look surprised by her sudden outburst, he merely remained still as he waited for Eloise to continue. “It was…shocking. A dragon came out of nowhere and just ripped our carriage in half, taking Mr. Osric with it. The worst part is…I’m-I’m shocked because it happened. But I’m not sad. I don’t feel the horror I think I should be feeling, and that is more horrifying to me. When I was lying in bed, the events of today kept replaying in my mind on a loop and I kept on trying to make myself feel the correct emotions. But I couldn’t. Something inside of me is broken.”

Eloise looked down at her hands, fingers wringing and untwisting together in her lap. She tried to force herself to sit as still as Ominis, but it was impossible. She couldn’t believe how easy it was to unload all of this onto a stranger, but he didn’t seem to mind listening. There was silence for a few minutes, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable one. Eloise peeked at Ominis from under her lashes. The boy appeared to be deep in thought.

“I couldn’t sleep either,” he finally said. “It’s normal for me, though. I also have a hard time turning off my thoughts, especially at night. This little corner of the common room feels like mine, in a sense. I’ve been coming here to think since I was a first-year. Maybe I subconsciously chose this place because, if you’re right, it’s more hidden than the rest. Nobody will see me if they’re sneaking around late at night, and it’s so peaceful.”

“That I can agree with,” said Eloise. “I actually came down here to see what it was like when it’s empty. I don’t quite know how to explain it, but this place already feels like home to me. A far sight better than the place I left behind. Places.”

“If you want me to leave, I’m fine with giving up my hiding place for a worthy cause.”

“No,” Eloise said quickly. “I…I like having you here. With me. It means I don’t have to be alone with my thoughts.”

Ominis smiled and tilted his head, not quite looking at her in that odd way of his. “It’s nice, talking to you. Most people avoid me. I can’t imagine why.”

Eloise huffed in quiet laughter. They sat in silence for a while longer, until Ominis broke it again. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. But…am I correct in guessing that you and Leo Babbit know each other?”

Eloise’s breath hitched in her throat. She still wasn’t sure how much of her past she wanted people to know…but she also knew that as soon as the day broke the castle would be swirling with rumors. And, as much as she hated the thought, the truth would come out one way or another. She had been lucky enough so far…her name hadn’t been said at the sorting due to the unusual circumstances. But, come morning, everyone would put the pieces together once her name was called out by a teacher.

She could test the waters with someone like Ominis, who seemed like the sort of fellow who would take it in stride.

“I…like I said, you don’t have to tell me,” Ominis said softly.

“No! No, it’s fine,” Eloise assured him. “It’s…complicated. I would prefer if it never came out but…if the school I was at before is any indication, everyone will know by lunch tomorrow regardless of if I say anything or not.” She took a deep breath, steadying herself. “My full name is Eloise Babbit. Leo is my brother.”

Ominis showed no reaction. It gave her the strength to continue.

“I was rejected by my family. As the years went by and I still wasn’t showing any signs of magic, I was ignored by my parents in favor of Leo. When my eleventh year came and went without any acceptance letter to Hogwarts, I had to come to terms with the fact that I was actually a squib. Up until then, I had held onto the hope and the day I lost that, I lost everything. I was banished and burned off of the family tree, like I never existed. Until a few days ago, I was learning how to become a perfect muggle wife at one of their horrid finishing schools. My family had already prepared a marriage for me to a prominent muggle family, reasoning that I could at least give them important connections.” She spat that last word out. Even speaking the words was a bitter reminder of the life she had almost led. “Based on Leo’s reaction, he definitely didn’t know that I had been admitted to Hogwarts. I don’t even know what’s worse: if my parents knew and decided not to tell him, or if the fact that I was burned off the family tree means that they wouldn’t have received a notification.”

She stared at her hands again. What was it about this boy that made her want to unload everything to him? Yes, he had asked her about it, but she still felt guilty for talking to him at all. Like somehow, telling him would make it his problem as well.

“If there’s anyone in this school who understands the horrors of one’s family, it’s me,” he said. Eloise looked up at him in surprise. He chuckled quietly, as if he could see her expression. “My family are direct descendants of Salazar Slytherin. Absolutely stark-raving mad, pureblood fanatics. We’ve gotten quite reclusive in the past hundred years or so, and don’t have much contact with the outside world. Your family’s inbreeding resulted in fear of giving birth to a potential squib. Mine, in the form of a useless, blind son who has no interest in continuing their crazy beliefs. I guess you could say we are two kindred souls. Maybe that’s what your aura was trying to tell me earlier this evening.”

“I guess so,” Eloise replied. Both could tell that the other wasn’t saying everything on their mind, but she wanted to give him the same comfort he had offered her and decided not to pry. “Thank you, Ominis.”

He inclined his head towards her and then moved his unseeing gaze to the large stained glass window. They sat there for quite some time, at least it felt that way to Eloise. The passage of time seemed not to exist as she and Ominis sat there, deep inside their own thoughts. Formless shadows danced behind the window, their regular movements helping to calm her thoughts. After what seemed like an eternity, Eloise found herself stifling a yawn.

“It seems your day has finally caught up with you,” Ominis said, smiling softly. “I think it’s best if we head to bed. Hogwarts might be more progressive than the muggle school you’ve just escaped, but if anyone sees us here together it would just further the rumors already swirling around you.”

Eloise nodded her assent and stood up slowly. She hadn’t realized how much time they had spent there until she felt the stiffness in her muscles that only comes from remaining still for a very long time. Ominis also got up slowly, gracefully stretching out his long body in the process. As he stood, she saw him grab his wand out of his pocket, and it began glowing a faint red as he walked. That must be how he gets around, she thought to herself. He did say his wind has a mind of its own.

She followed him and they slowly made their way to the two sets of stairs leading to the dormitories. They paused once they were about to part. “Goodnight, Ominis.”

“Goodnight, Eloise. I’ll see you tomorrow. Or rather, I’ll sense your presence later on this morning.” He gave her a faint smile and then turned to head down the stairs leading to his dormitory. Eloise stood there, watching until she couldn’t see the red glow of his wand anymore. With a yawn, she turned towards her room and soon slipped under the covers, sleep finally coming. Before she fell asleep, she had only the fleeting realization that Ominis had not actually answered her question.

The title is a link to everything on ao3, but just in case you didn’t catch that, here it is🫶

next chapter

[turning-monday-blue]

Sweets (1/?)

The snugness was barely tolerable. She had overestimated herself. She looked surreptitiously over her shoulder and ducked around a corner. The only thing following her were her bad decisions, but she felt chased all the same.

Okay. Calm down. Breathe (but not too deep). Evaluate the situation. What are your options? Can you loosen anything?

She looked down at herself. Past her swollen breasts, past a fluffy roll of upper belly, she examined her waistline. Nope. The button was the only thing keeping the zipper together, and vice versa. For the millionth time, she lamented her morning. What a bright idea, interviewing for a job with a snack company. She was very well aware of how sweets affected her.

Could she find somewhere discrete to wait out her... little metabolic mishap? She looked around for a discrete nook to accommodate her fresh bulk.

The little atrium she had found had a series of plush benches around the walls. She sighed and headed for the one in the corner. She sucked in as best she could and sat down. Some horny little corner of her mind made note of how it felt as her tight belly shifted against her puffy thighs.

Sitting like this, only barely upright lest bending too far compromise her jeans, she couldn't ignore how her waistband was trying to cut her in half. She thought back to how she had done this to herself. The lovely HR manager had very explicitly pointed out the basket of the company's sugary offerings there in the middle of interview table. The woman had been insistent that she try at least one of each, gushing like any good salesperson about their rich flavors and subtle textures, occasionally even peeling one out of its wrapper and handing it to her.

How could she have done anything but eat what was offered to her? And by a beautiful woman, no less. She knew how her body reacted to food like this, but she had been desperate to make a good impression, to look good and eager and employable. A good girl. She ignored that last thought, and the accompanying shiver through her frazzled tummy.

She closed her eyes and tried to steady herself. Breathe in through the nose and out through the mouth (but not too deeply). All she had to do was calm down, and give her body a chance to do the same. Then she could find a back door to sneak out of, go home and hope that somehow that she hadn't blown the interview.

She opened her eyes again and caught sight of herself in a mirror across the room. Holy crap, she was huge. She had been her normal, narrow self, and her outfit had fit very very normally, when she had arrived. But now? Now it looked positively painted onto her. Her breasts were trying to spill out of her tastefully exposed bra and over the lapel of her blouse. She was more balloon than woman at this point. She ignored another tingle.

As she watched herself in the mirror, she noticed something change. Slowly but surely, the last wrinkle in her blouse smoothed out. Uh oh. That meant... she was still filling out. Panic. She tingled again.

No. No. Calm. Breathe (but not too deep). She closed her eyes again, and could feel her plump body quietly grow. Crap.

Panic. Calm. Breathe (but not too deep). Calm.

Maybe if she didn't look, it would go away. That had never worked before, sure, but there's a first time for everything, right?

As she rationalized to herself, she noticed the sound of heels clacking towards her hiding spot. Panic!

Maybe their owner would pass and not notice her?

No such luck.

The woman who had interviewed her rounded the corner.

"There you are!"

She struggled to stand. So tight.

"You left your purse upstairs. I get it, though. Interviews can be pretty stressful, huh?"

Like nothing had changed. Did this woman not notice that she was currently three times the size she was when she had shown up? Could this woman not hear every seam in her clothes creaking in harmony? Could the woman not see how wide and deep and round she was becoming?

"It's such a beautiful handbag, I almost wanted to keep it for myself!" The woman laughed. "Oh well."

She took the bag from the woman. "O-oh! Thank you!" Leapt out of her.

"Listen," said the woman, "technically I have to review a few other candidates, but I think you're a shoo-in for the position." The woman moved closer. "No one else has shown so much... enthusiasm." Closer still. She basked in the smell of the woman's musky perfume.

"Oh... that's great!" she managed to squeak out.

"In fact," the woman continued, "if you'd like to come back upstairs, we can have you fill out the onboarding paperwork now, so you don't have to come back just to fill out some forms if... when we give you the job." So close now.

"Um! Okay!" What.

The woman placed a gentle hand on the side of her massive, tight, growing belly. "Listen, between you and me, that passion you showed today will take you far with us. Do you feel like the offer is fair? We can negotiate further if you need." The woman's eyes were so sincere.

What was going on here? She could barely think.

The woman placed her other hand on top of her belly, well hidden by her burgeoning breasts. "I do hope you'll say yes."

"Um..."

There was a pop. Her button pinged away across the room from her overburdened jeans. It made a little thwack sound as it hit the far wall. Her zipper flew down, zizzing audibly. Her belly erupted through the breach. Her blouse retreated upwards. The tingling became a roar. All the while, the woman, as though no tectonic shifts were happening right there and then, continued to implore with borderline puppydog eyes.

The world held its breath with her. How had this woman not reacted to any of that?! What? Was the woman still waiting for an answer?

"...okay?" She tried. She wasn't sure if her brain was still working. "Sure?" Best to stick to small sentences.

"Yay!" cheered the woman, "I really think you'll love it here!" The woman launched in for a quick hug around her exposed belly. The woman's arms didn't go even halfway around her. And still the woman didn't seem to notice that anything was wrong.

"Well! If you'll follow me back to the elevators, we can at least get the formalities out of the way."

The woman took her by the hand and pulled, still gentle. She followed, mutely. Even the horniest, shamiest corners of her mind were silent, waiting with bated breath.

As they reached the elevators, the woman pushed the up button and stood to the side. "Please," said the woman, "after you!"

On autopilot now, she stepped into the elevator and... wedged into the door. Stuck. What. Panic? Calm? The elevator dinged again as if to say "I'm waiting!"

The cold of the elevator doors brought her back to reality. She put a hand on either side of herself and tried to pull herself in. As though this were somehow normal, the woman chirped "Oh, here, let me help!"

She felt a gentle pair of hands press into her oceanic bottom. Her horny brain thrilled again. She clamped down on those thoughts. No time to be a pervert.

Between the two of them, they muscled her into the elevator. She turned to face the doors in time to watch the woman press into her in order to let the doors close. Normally equipped for eight full-sized human adults, due to her immensity, it very barely fit two.

"We need floor thirty," said the woman into her barely contained cleavage. She tried to reach for the panel of buttons, but by now there was simply too much of her in the way.

"I've got it," said the woman, reaching behind her without looking.

They rode the thirty floors quietly. She could feel herself still widening, pressing towards the walls of the elevator car. Her embarrassment had burnt out, leaving only a kind of stunned peace in her mind. She tried to will her body away from the woman, but where else could it really go?

By the time they reached their destination, the woman was firmly pressed against the doors, still showing no indication of the extra-ordinariness of the situation.

As the doors opened, the woman stepped back, grabbed her hands, and pulled as she tried to wiggle through the door. Eventually she floomped through, and they set off toward the HR suite.

Full-on waddling now, she felt an inner tension release. She had stopped growing. Relief. If nothing else, at least things had stopped getting worse. Sure, she was almost round enough to roll. Tingle. Sure, her clothing had been reduced to barely covering her... rude areas. Tingle. Sure, a beautiful woman was acting as though this was all perfectly normal. Tingle tingle tingle. But hey, at least it finally wasn't getting worse.

The woman pushed open the double doors to the HR suite and welcomed her in with another glittering smile. They seemed to be the only ones there. The woman led her, patiently, to the front desk area. The woman ducked behind the desk, looking for something.

"Hmm, it looks like I'll need to go print off more some more copies of the forms. Shouldn't take more than a minute or two." Finally she'd have a moment to collect herself.

Then the woman produced a basket, laden with various goodies, from underneath the desk. "Here! Help yourself, sorry to make you wait." Uh.

"Oh, here, allow me," said the woman, picking out a chocolate confection, peeling it, and pressing it into her mouth. "I'll be right back!"

She chewed and swallowed the treat.

Uh oh.

[heir-of-the-chair]

I just need everyone to know that I fucking hate Hamlet prince of Denmark. This stupid fictional man makes me so goddamned angry I need to squeeze him like one of those rubber toys where the eyes pop out and shake him so violently like a child discovering snow globes for the first time. I fucking hate Hamlet prince of Denmark oh my god.

[hella1975]

it's been pointed out on here before that a lot of terf arguments are actually rooted in sexist idealology that feminists fought and died to unnormalise decades ago and that's its own kettle of fish but one thing i also find very frustrating about this so called 'radical' feminism is that it's so... defeatist? like the moment you categorically label an entire section of society as Bad and Inherently Evil then there's also the implication that nothing can be done about it, and it completely takes all accountability away. saying all men are evil is just another way of saying boys will be boys. he raped her because he's a man. he hit her because he's a man. he didn't listen because he's a man - it's almost offensively oversimplified. there's no point trying to fix this issue in society because men are just Like That, okay! so now what? it's not like they're going anywhere, so you just accept that 50% of the population are evil and will forever treat you terribly and there's nothing to be done about it bc they're biologically predisposed to it? like is that fr the argument here? you're soooo radical for that

[ixcaliber]

trying to finish as much as i can off playstation plus before letting my subscription end and one of those things was the bioshock infinite burial at sea dlc and oh my fucking god what an absolutely atrotrious experience. incredibly somehow worse than bioshock infinite (a game i hold no affection for) and may be one of the worst video game experiences i've ever had.

[jl-otdc]

I have very strong opinions about this man being a good singer and guitar player

[shigarakins]

i remember when the bodysnatching happened and how hardly anyone else in the fandom (or what i saw of the fandom) seemed to find it as horrifying as i did. then the same thing happened again with the mind invasion. and yes the fact that the mind invasion happened at all and not even the story gave much of a fuck about the fact that it did is still one of biggest gripes with the finale