#I'm am also oddly curious of their arguing

[dreamlandcreations]

whatever he wants

pairing: darkish!bucky barnes x (gray?)curvy!reader

warnings: 18+ only. smut. tiny hint of voyeurism. uhhh this isn’t really dark but it’s not not dark either… so idk. if there’s something i’m missing pls lmk.

words: 3.4k

notes: smutty little part two to IOU. hope you guys like it. thank you in advance for reading and reblogging! as always, feedback and comments are more than welcome and so appreciated. please leave your thoughts, let me know what you think. 🖤

You can’t get up.

You’ve tried three times now, and nothing. The heavy metal arm slung around your waist just. won’t. budge.

You’re about to elbow him in the ribs, the heat of his body and the hot summer air is suffocating and you need to get up - you need to breathe.

One more try and if he doesn’t move, you’re gonna make him.

You roll onto your front and his arm drops onto your back, still keeping you from leaving the bed.

You writhe and huff in annoyance, turning your face to look at him.

He’s still sleeping. Still deceptively beautiful.

You stop your wiggling for a moment as you take him in. His pouty lips, his unfairly long lashes that brush just against his cheekbones, the stubble that’s lining his perfectly sculpted jaw, and his unruly bedhead.. He looks peaceful like this. Nice. So nice, you’d never believe he could be such an absolute dick so much of the time.

You stare a bit longer, wanting to commit the moment, how beautiful and content he looks right now, to memory.

You take a deep breath and try to roll back over, but the weight of his arm makes it no easy feat.

“Bucky,” you whisper yell, not wanting your voice to carry through the rest of the cabin.

You’re sure you’re the only one awake right now; well aside from Steve.

His leaving for his morning run was what had woken you up to begin with. You’ve been laying here for fifteen minutes and you needed to get up now, but Bucky still didn’t move.

You roll your eyes and exhale heavily.

If you punch him, he’ll wake up, but he’ll be pissed. And you don’t think you wanna start your morning off dealing with his attitude.

You swear Bucky Barnes might just be the most dramatic man you’ve ever met.

If one thought he was grumpy normally, they’d be entirely unprepared for him when he was woken up by anything or anyone other than himself or his alarm.

With the one exception of you, of course. More accurately: you working his cock.

Whether it was your hand, your mouth, your cunt, what have you - it was a surefire way to make sure he woke up on the right side of the bed.

But you really aren’t in the mood right now.

Instead, you begin to wiggle under his arm again, worming your way down the bed until finally, blessedly, you get free.

You exhale with a breathy laugh as you sit up on your haunches before looking over to Bucky again.

You can tell already that your absence from where he expects you to be beside him is disturbing him. His brows furrow and then his hand is searching for you among the mess of sheets.

You watch curiously as he pats around the bed before he finally blinks open his eyes and meets your gaze.

He scowls when he recognizes you sitting up across from him.

“Don’t start,” you say as you get off the bed, “in fact, don’t say a word. Just go back to sleep, princess.”

He growls, not nearly as loud as you know he’d like, with sleep still clinging to him.

“What the fuck did I say about you calling me princess,” he gruffs.

“Said not to, if I’m not mistaken. But I like doing it, so I’m not gonna stop.”

“Til I make you,” he vaguely threatens, his voice getting darker and more clear as he wakes up fully.

“Like to see you try,” you taunt as you make your way into the bathroom.

Bucky doesn’t scare you so much anymore. Though you’ve had to learn when to stop pushing. You’ve gotten pretty damn good at reading him. Knowing when he’s entirely serious and at his limit is something you can spot nearly right away now. Since that first night all those months ago, the only times you ignore the warnings are when you’re wanting what he’d given you the first time he had you. Something more rough than normal from him. Something purely carnal. Bordering on truly depraved.. And god, he’s never failed to deliver.

You know you’ve become complicit in this whole arrangement, but you’re starting to care less and less. What can you say? A powerful, beefy, hot as hell super soldier wants you. Chose you. He’s possessively protective over you, and problematic as that can be, you find it ridiculously attractive. And the sex if fucking amazing.

Sure, he can be a dick, but he’s been less of a dick to you. And you quite enjoy the way he now directs his annoyance and anger at those he knows irk you, too.

It's not like you don't fight or argue anymore, but it's almost always resolved quite.. nicely. Who are you to complain about that?

And god, the perks being with Bucky has come with.

You never really fed into the whole “fuck your way to the top” thing, but hey, here you were.

Getting better missions, nicer gear, getting more involved with the big leagues. And though you wouldn’t say it aloud, Bucky always having your back - during missions, in meetings, coming to your defense when someone would question your input - it was nice. Sometimes it was like he was your own personal guard dog.

And you loved the way people would shrink in on themselves, making themselves sparse when you and Bucky were around. You'd never admit it, but you guys were definitely a power couple around the tower. And you were thriving.

The attention, the opportunities, the sex. If you hadn't been blackmailed into this whole thing, you wouldn't have a solitary complaint.

You’re spitting out toothpaste and putting your toothbrush away as Bucky barges into the bathroom. You look up from the sink and shoot him an annoyed glance at the unnecessary disturbance.

“Really?” you ask as he grabs his own toothbrush from its spot.

“What?” he says. You roll your eyes and brush past him to start getting dressed.

“Put on your swimsuit,” he orders as he pauses his brushing to speak.

“Why?” you’re already annoyed knowing the answer. You guys have been here on this little summer getaway for two days now, both of which you’ve successfully managed to avoid getting in the water.

It wasn’t that you were scared or couldn’t swim, no, it was nothing like that.

It was that goddamn bathing suit.

The only bathing suit you had, thanks to Bucky who went into your bags after you’d finished packing and took your other two options out.

You’d swear it was skimpier than some of your lingerie.

“We’re going swimming,” he smirks, eyeing you hungrily.

You turn with another roll of your eyes and head to the drawer that holds your swimming wear. You throw Bucky’s trunks on the bed without care and grab your suit without looking at it.

You lean in the doorway of the bathroom as Bucky washes his face off, scowling.

“Can’t we get breakfast first?”

“You can get breakfast while wearing it.”

“You get off on humiliating me, that’s it, isn’t it?”

He barks a laugh as he turns to face you, “You think this is me trying to humiliate you?”

You don’t respond as you keep your face stoic. He approaches and his large hands come around your neck, cradling the back of your head as he pulls your face closer to his. He crashes his lips to yours, the minty feel still lingering as he licks into your mouth, pushing you against the wall as he backs you up, his hands keeping your head from hitting it. You return his fervent kiss, your hands coming up to hold his forearms, despite your annoyance before he pulls away suddenly and leaves you wanting.

You lick your lips as you catch your breath and meet his eye.

“If I wanted to humiliate you, sweetheart, you’d know.”

—

When you’re both done getting ready for the day, you having taken your sweet time to get into the bathing suit, you slowly open the bathroom door you had shut and locked behind you nearly fifteen minutes ago.

You’re overly aware of your belly and the jiggle of your ass and thighs with each step you take.

You hate this swimsuit and you swear you’d burn it if you weren’t sure he’d take you skinny dipping should it mysteriously disappear.

The growl that emanates from Bucky when he sees you genuinely startles you and when his big hands grab you by the waist, you feel that familiar heat growing deep within you.

His hands move down to grab your ass, kneading the ample flesh he finds there as you push against him.

Your breasts are nearly spilling out of the too small cups and though the band of the thong-like bottoms can be pulled to sit high on your hips, it really does nothing to hide or cover your stomach the way you’d like. And the tropical blue color brings too much attention.

It’s not that you’re self conscious, though you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a bit, it’s just way too revealing for you. You hate that everyone will get to see parts of you you don’t like showing. You feel like you’re giving away parts of your privacy.

But you know Bucky doesn’t care.

As long as he’s the only one who gets to touch you, he’d happily let the world feast their eyes on you like this, show them what they’ll never have.

“This is ridiculous,” you complain for the tenth time.

“You look fuckin’ sexy,” he purrs, letting his hands run back up your body.

“Ugh,” you groan as you push him again, swiping your towel off the bed and slipping on your slides as you pass him and leave the room.

You can feel his eyes on you as he follows behind, his gaze seemingly glued to your body.

You walk downstairs quietly, still unsurprised to find no one else up. Everyone else had stayed up well into the early hours of the morning last night, drinking and chatting, playing stupid games. You and Bucky had been taking part until around midnight when he decided he was done keeping his hands to himself. He took you back to your room upstairs where you both stayed the rest of the night while the party continued on downstairs. You were grateful the loud chatting seemed to drown out your and Bucky’s moans.

You threw your things in an empty bag Nat had left on the table and then followed Bucky into the kitchen to make a quick breakfast.

You were hoping you could get out and into the lake before anyone could see you, so you hurriedly toasted some bread and sliced an avocado while Bucky made eggs. You threw everything together on a paper plate, leaving the used pan on the stove and had Bucky get water while you seasoned the food.

You had the plate in one hand and your bag in the other as Bucky carried the cooler with drinks out behind you.

It was only nine and yet the heat was already sweltering.

The perks of being at a lake house, though, is you don’t have to go far to get to the lake.

The setup from yesterday and the day before was still there as you set your stuff down in one of the big wooden loungers and then put the food down on the long table. The dock was just behind and to the right of you as you sat on the wooden bench attached to the table.

Bucky set the cooler down at the end of the table before taking a seat across from you on the opposite bench.

“You were quick to come out here.”

“Yeah, I’m praying no one sees me in this atrocity,” you say as you pick up your toast and take a bite.

He scoffs before grabbing his own piece.

You both eat fairly quickly, having been hungry from your late night activities, and soon you’re watching as Bucky strips off his tank top.

He grabs your towels and the sunscreen, handing the bottle to you and expecting you to follow him as he walks onto the dock.

You do so after taking another drink of your water and forcing yourself up.

He sits on the edge of the dock, his legs in the clear blue water as he waits for you, the towels thrown down haphazardly, ready for you to use them when you’re done swimming.

You move to sit behind him, opening the bottle and squeezing some sunscreen into your hands.

You rub it between your hands for a second before you start to apply it to Bucky’s back.

More and more until you’ve got him covered, massaging his tense muscles as you do. The groans that slip past his lips let you know he’s enjoying it.

You apply more to your hands as you run them over his shoulders and down his chest. You’re pressed right up against his back as you work. The lower your hands slip, the deeper his groans. You smile to yourself and slip one hand past the band of his trunks teasingly, running gently across the top of his pelvis before you pull away and start to work on his right arm.

“There, you’re all done,” you say as you let your hands run down his solid back once more.

You move back and Bucky brings his legs out of the water as he turns to you.

“You’re not.”

He pushes you to lay down on your towel as he moves to straddle you, the water still on his legs sending shivers across your skin.

He grabs the sunscreen and starts to deliver the same attention to you.

He’s obsessed with touching you. Your softness is his favorite thing, and as he applies the sunscreen to your exposed torso, he really takes his time feeling you, enjoying the goosebumps that raise, the tickles and shivers you try to hide. He runs his hands all over you. You’ve closed your eyes as the sun was shining in them and gasp when you feel Bucky’s hands on your breasts, squeezing them before you feel his lips on you, too. You can’t help the moan that leaves you under his attention.

“Turn over,” he says firmly and headily.

You don’t even think to not listen.

He gets more sunscreen as he covers your backsides, rubbing it in with perfect pressure. Another moan slips as he squeezes your neck with one hand, the other trailing down your spine.

And when he’s done, his fingers move to easily undo the string holding your top together, running his hands up and down your back before he leans further down and starts kissing your bare skin.

“Bucky,” you whine, stopping yourself from sitting up knowing your chest will be on complete display.

“Everyone’s sleeping, no one’s gonna see.”

You want to argue, but you can’t bring yourself to. Even if you did, he always gets his way in the end.

You feel him move the flimsy fabric covering you and you really are moving out of thoughtless desire as you bend your knees and hips up slightly before he starts prodding you with his fingers, your wetness evident as your cunt glistens.

You groan as he slips two thick digits into you, pumping his fingers in and out, curling them just right.

“Fuck,” you whimper under your breath.

You’re so lost in his touch you don’t expect it when his fingers move to part your folds open, your slick hole on display for him as he wastes no time and pushes into you with his aching cock.

You moan into the towel beneath you as he stretches your pussy.

The position is unexpectedly delightful as he hits you deeper and deeper with his every thrust.

You swear you could cry with how fucking good it feels.

“You like that baby?” he pants, “Like having this big dick inside your tight fucking pussy.”

A cry leaves you as you nod your head emphatically.

His speed picks up as his words get dirtier and you get closer and closer to the orgasm you can feel building.

You’re both sweating, Bucky more than you, as you fist the towel and groan loudly through grit teeth.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you’re aware anyone could come out at anytime and see, but you don’t have the will to care as Bucky keeps fucking into you, his hands tight on your hips as he uses you. Another hard thrust has you careening over the edge, moans and mewls leaving your lips as your toes curl and your walls squeeze his thick cock as you come.

Bucky doesn’t let up as he fucks you through it, hips pummeling against your ass over and over until he growls deep in his chest, his hips twitching as he let’s himself go inside you. His grunts and moans fill your ears until he eventually slows completely and pulls out, slapping your ass as he gets up.

You lay there, trying to catch your breath from a moment before you fix your bottoms and roll over, holding your top together.

“I fuckin’ hate you,” you breathe heavily.

He laughs to himself at your words as you slowly get up. He takes his time adjusting himself in his trunks before he turns on you, grabbing your face and tilting your head up in his direction. He leans down and brushes his stubbly cheek against your soft one as he speaks in your ear, “I know you fuckin’ wish you did.”

He keeps his hold on you as he turns his face and takes your lips hotly in his own. He walks you back. And back. And then grabs your loose top from your hands as you gasp, allowing his tongue to slip past your lips. He moves his hand to grab your ass as he holds you against him, your full breasts pressing against his built chest.

He walks you back once more, smiling wickedly into the kiss. Then suddenly your stomach drops as your eyes shoot open when you feel your feet leave the dock. You're under water in a second and quickly swim back up to break the surface, a scowl etched across your face as you struggle to get your breathing back.

Before you can say anything, Bucky joins you in the water, jumping in and splashing you as he does.

You fight the urge to try and hold him down as you swim to the ladder and blindly search the deck for your top. It may be skimpy, but it’s better than nothing.

Bucky’s arms circle you as he pulls you back before his large palm crawls up your chest to cup your breast. Squeezing your flesh before he starts thumbing and tweaking your nipple.

You hate that your body reacts so fucking quickly to him as you feel yourself getting horny all over again. His lips are on your neck as your ass is against him. Your eyes close as a soft moan falls from you when he moves his attention to your other breast.

The creaking of the deck has your eyes shooting open as you attempt to cover your chest. You see Steve walking up, his chest gleaming with sweat as his running shirt is held in his hands.

You want to just let yourself sink under the water but Bucky’s hold on you doesn’t loosen for a second, in fact it only grows tighter, more possessive the closer Steve gets.

“Morning, lovebirds,” Steve greets with a smirk.

You know Bucky won’t let you go so instead of struggling and bringing attention to your nakedness, you grab his hand under the water and pull his arm across your chest as you hold him there.

Bucky wears a smirk of his own as he palms your tit and feels your body’s instant reaction.

“Hey,” Bucky replies, squeezing your breast again knowingly.

Your eyes widen when you see the twitch in Steve’s shorts, his prominent bulge growing as he stares down at you two.

You risk peering up at him and meet his eye instantly as you do. You swallow thickly as you look back down, trying to keep your composure. You know he can see everything, but as long as no one acknowledges that out loud, you can at least pretend that he can’t.

And then, of course, Bucky speaks again.

“So, you enjoy the show, pal?”

[anomymoussoapbar]

I'm proship/profiction because I understand that the content somebody creates or is interested in isn't a perfect reflection of how they are irl.

I trust that other proshippers understand how to separate fiction and reality.

I'm anti-censorship; I won't make any exceptions because we've seen in history that once you start making exceptions, it can lead to queer media also being demonized and banned (the best I can think off the top of my head is the trans institute that existed in nazi Germany, which had so many amazing trans resources, getting destroyed by nazis).

I believe people should be able to use art as an outlet for anything. Not every single thing in life needs to be censored, and people do often use art to process feelings and experiences.

I'm against harassing people for their art. Not only does harassing some internet stranger sound like a waste of time, it's bullying too. I don't want to be a bully.

I believe in "don't like, don't look, don't interact" (my own variation of don't like don't read). I have tools to block people and hide content I don't want to see. I'm going to use them. I am responsible for curating my own online experience.

I've seen people online who use proshipping as a coping mechanism. I don't understand how that's possible, but that doesn't really matter so long as those people are safe. I wouldn't deny a victim their coping mechanism unless it endangered their life because that's against my beliefs and I'm not a therapist, so that wouldn't even be my place to speak. I've noticed antis don't like these kinds of victims because they don't fit into the antis' perfect boxes of how they think victims should be, so they often harass and bully and claim victims need therapy/need better therapists. I find this ridiculous because in my and many other's experiences, therapy is inherently proship/profiction and antis ignore this/claim it's not true (idk how you can do that if you're not a psychologist but they're too far gone to argue with). And they don't even offer to pay for the therapy, lol.

Thank you for making this blog and being curious, you're amazing. Sorry that this is kinda long lol

Hello!!! :*)

Thank you so so so much for your views.

I find it interesting how you listed it and specifically how you explained "don't like don't look don't interact" [I really like how you phrased it :*)] which I myself see me doing a lot.

When I read through your explanation, I began getting vaguely reminded of those internet safety PSAs they would make kids watch when you are younger, of curating your own safe environment.

How to report bullying, and to not harass others online as well being points that made me think of those internet safety PSAs LOL

Something I find myself thinking about is on how a lot of what fiction can affect reality is a concern long ago that was likely brought by concerns by parents who were against video games saying it promoted violence.

I also find the idea of fictionally dark themes interesting, as I have realized I. Do often indulge in dark medias. In an oddly comforting way.

I really don't like how people harass proshippers, or anyone in general. And from what I have been gathering, not all proshippers indulge in dark thematics. Perhaps the majority, but the proshipping idea is simply respecting even if you dont share it.

Also, when you mentioned people not being exactly how they write or the creations they make, I realized how a lot of mainstream medias follow this. The creator of most Studio ghibli movies is COMPLETELY different from the peppy and cute movies he makes and the creator of popular horror Manga Junji ito makes a lot of horror visuals and grotesque stories however is just a sweet guy in real life.

I know I bring it up a lot in my posts, but a lot of why media can be triggering for me and sickening is when I see what reminds me of my own traumatic experiences [S/A /COCSA and grooming.] And how no matter how much I filter, it will always end up appearing.

As it makes me physically sick, revolted, and sadly reminds me of what I've so deeply buried.

However, I am ONE side of the S/A survivor victim experience and spectrum. The other is people who find comfort in exploring their feelings and it helps them understand on what happened to them.

And I love art. I express myself through art. I used to draw what happened to me and draw out how I felt with characters. But it would make me feel so much worse. As I am and was at the mental point of connecting so hard to the fictional reality which I built to be so much better than I was in.

I don't really know why I'm saying all of this, I guess I just want to lead to the fact that every survivor has their way of coping, and mine isn't the same as everyone else's. And I am still learning to accept that and educate myself on it. Because I do. I really do want to understand and take away my own personal stigmas.

I have so much more I would love to add but I feel I have been rambling for too long LOL

Oh my goodness I'm so sorry for ranting but anyways, thank you so much for the ask and informing me in this much detail. You are so so loved and appreciated. 💞🌸

[captainofthetidesbreath]

It's interesting that Deanna (among others) sees receiving power in exchange for faith as something to draw out more faith (further empowering the gods) rather than receiving something in exchange for what one has put into this relationship. Or, even, receiving what one desires or seeks or even needs from that relationship.

In real life, there is an idea that there is no pure altruism. When we do something good for others or engage in any sort of act, there is always a minimum of something we ourselves gain from it, including it may make us happy to do so or it improves our relationship with that person or we believe it betters society for everyone (which includes us) or what have you. And, sometimes, I wonder if this specific framework about the Exandrian gods begins with this belief that the gods must be true altruists, and if they're not, they're using mortals. I wonder if there is a sense of a social contract breached that when an individual finds comfort in worship, that god receives power from that individual's faith.

This isn't necessarily how Deanna thinks of it. I'm digressing a bit here. To get back on it, it's interesting Deanna conceptualizes this as a bit of a bait (for lack of a better word, though Ludinus certainly believes it's bait), power for faith to generate more faith as a resource. But, it leaves a question (as least for me) of how she would imagine this relationship to ideally work. Is there existence of a belief that an ideal god-mortal relationship is one where the god does not benefit? Where mortals would not receive anything that could be construed as encouraging a behavior that would benefit the gods, which may involve not answering prayers? (Is such a thing even possible? Mortals will find comfort and solace and meaning in even silence, as Fjord and Jester discuss in 2.106.) It is suggested she argues constantly with FRIDA about whether the gods should be removed (non-violently, apparently) from the scenario, thus disagrees with their idea you simply remove the gods, but I AM curious: what DOES she believe the most ideal relationship here would be if the gods were to remain?

The big thing here is that these questions about the gods also feel like the same philosophical issues we struggle with in relationships to one another as real people: whether there is an actually true altruism, the "purity" of our love and devotion and service to another if we "get something out of it", the process of mutually giving and benefiting, anxieties over imbalances and fairness in a relationship because not every exchange can be perfectly equivalent and equal (and whether we should expect it to always be).

The way Deanna frames mortal relationship to the gods makes me curious how she would talk about other types of relationships. Oddly, probably because it is difficult to discuss, there's very little sense of what she thinks of her relationship with her husband, not even a clear sense at the moment of whether she feels resentment, but there is a sense of like... ironclad obligation there. A promise fulfilled even when it was horrifying to do so. There's something interesting in that her husband moved on before she was raised, thus he did not benefit from her resurrection beyond completion of an obligation. I wonder how it compares.

[backjustforberena]

Rhaenys doesn’t like those boys and she doesn’t have to. It’s genuinely not that deep and it doesn’t make her some cruel grandmother like you inferred I viewed her as. I also believe she naturally has more of an inclination for Baela than Rhaena. Humans are naturally inclined to have preferences. I know she got dragged for her stance on the boys but stans trying to argue that she loves them so deeply or even cares for them to the same degree or intensity… Come on. Saying that we don’t have enough to infer she doesn’t really care for them is not true imo.

Also, there’s much more evidence for her disdain for Daemon but people seem to focus much more on this supposed friction between her and Vaemond when technically their pov on the driftmark throne are actually similar.

Firstly, thank you for coming back and expanding on your argument, and I do apologise if I made some unfair predictions regarding your views on Rhaenys as a grandmother. I think that was just a preemptive strike against the argument that I'm used to seeing and therefore expected from you.

I agree with you, up to a point. I do think she loves those boys but I'm not going to kid myself by saying it's to the same degree or intensity that she loves Baela and Rhaena. That's not the case. Perhaps it's not even a very personal love as they don't have much of a relationship. They don't know each other very well, from what I gather. But I don't think that's any reason to say she doesn't like them.

You say that stans say she loves them deeply? I think she loves them, but not as much as Baela and Rhaena. Deeply wouldn't be a word I'd use. That's natural, that's fine. As you say, humans have preferences and she's had a lot more opportunity to build a relationship with those girls than she'll ever have with those boys. And the sad thing is, whatever the boys are like, they represent danger. Rhaenys can't forget that. They represent a threat to Driftmark, just by existing. Not the boys' fault. Not Rhaenys fault. Just something hard to forget. That bears fruit when Driftmark essentially becomes a pawn in the war over Rhaenyra's claim.

I'm curious, however, what you mean, by "really care for them"? What's the threshold between hating them, being ambivalent, caring for them, loving them and then loving them deeply? For example, do you think she'll care when she hears Luke is dead? I do. It sounds as though you might not? How do you infer that?

I do disagree with you on there being more evidence of her disdain for Daemon. I will absolutely say it's not a great relationship and she harbours a lot of animosity towards her cousin, and agree that it is full of disdain - at least on her part, for Daemon's, I think he respects his cousin a fair bit, oddly enough. But we have more scenes with Rhaenys and Vaemond interacting (albeit he's dead in at least one) than we do with Daemon and Rhaenys directly interacting. I may be mistaken, and tell me if I am, but the only time Rhaenys mentions Daemon is when she says that Daemon denied her daughter coming home, and then in telling Corlys how Daemon chopped his brother's head off. The rest of the evidence of that relationship is conjecture borne of how she treats her granddaughters.

If we compare that to all of Episode 08, as well as Vaemond's subtle interactions in Episodes 05 and 07, I would say all-in-all we have more evidence of that relationship.

You're also correct in that their positions are similar. But they're not exact, which probably caused even more friction, to be honest. Rhaenys is absolutely and fully aware that the Driftwood Throne should not go to Lucerys on account of his true heritage. However, she does not agree with Vaemond. Vaemond wants the throne for himself. That has the potential to have really nasty consequences for Rhaenys, Rhaena and Baela, if he is so against Targaryen interference within their house. So that's another source of conflict.

Rhaenys, I think, would far rather it go to Laena's line and pass on to Baela, as she said in the past. But she has accepted it and wouldn't go as far as Vaemond does. There's no indication that, had Corlys died and no petition was brought to the King, she would have sought to change the succession herself. Nor is there any evidence to say she would have supported Vaemond in the Throne Room, as she was making a separate argument. I won't say more than that because we have no more information than that. It would be guesswork.

[pixie-skull]

Top ten animated movies (Sorry I'm not creative lol)

@arcanehuntress No worries, I actually like this question. :D

10. (1999) Scooby-Doo! and the Witch's Ghost

Besides introducing the world The Hex Girls, it is a cute movie with a good twist.

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9. (2014) Book of Life

A movie that deals with love triangles in a good way, fun animation, and romance that is actually taken serious or not as rushed. Bonus a lot of celebrities I like in this. 

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8. (2001) Spirited Away

Oddly reminded me of “Alice Wonderland” and the of course the dream-like and animation transport the viewer. Also, the character growth so powerful and yet can be oddly realistic for a child.

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7. (2005) The Corpse Bride

What can I say as a kid the fact the title character so naturally bubbly, yet also such a romantic, and yet explain heartbreak so easily, and not scary (hey I may be a romantic, but falling in love sounds oddly scary), and more. Plus, the world building is powerful.

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6. (2009) The Princess and the Frog

It is no secret I love Fairy Tales, yet to be in a modern or “real world” setting is actually brilliant and so sad not given as much credit. ALSO PLEASE BRING BACK HAND-DRAWN ANIMATION!

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5. (1977) The Hobbit 

Book accurate and the animation so unique, sure sometimes bit weird for some character design. Only hey experimental animation can actually be a win in my book if done well.

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4. (1998) The Prince of Egypt

I am grateful for a movie on religion did it so well. Plus morally grey characters.

---

3. (1993, yet was in the works for decades) The Thief and Cobbler (both recobbled and released one)

This gif only one example of recobbled (on youtube) being so much funny, yet either version still amazing. Also yes, an example of odd style, yet whatever. However, the recobbled I do like more.

---

2. (1991) The Beauty and the Beast

I was tempted to put “Sleeping Beauty”, as that one feels a really Fairy Tale-like, yet as I told a friend, I like characters who have ambitious or fleshed out. Not saying Aurora was not fleshed out, but Belle is a character who you can see change so much more. 

---

1. (1940) Fantasia

I know, I know, a THIRD animated movie by Disney (Even can argue three Studio Ghibli films as places 5 and 0 are the animation studio before it became what is now), yet the music and visuals are so impactful. Sure not much story, but think of it as visual poems, sure shorter, and longer length movies are a story, yet as someone who enjoys writing poetry, Fantasia is very much what I hope my poems can do to the reader. Enchant! Visualize scenes! Beauty and ugly blending in storms of emotions!

---

0. (1982) The Last Unicorn

Is anyone surprised? I like the characters’ development, the both poetic and storytelling, the animation so beautiful, and more.

---  @sailorzelda94 @confettipetticoats @wardisahi @night130 @animagix101 I am curious what you peeps what would write.h

[dontreadthistrashgarbage]

G O T 7 pt.5

JB's private studio was much smaller and less intimidating. Everything was in the same room, and there weren't any extra people there. Guerin couldn't help but fidget nervously as JB gave her some pointers based on the last recording session. She was looking at his computer screen with him when he shot her a glance, noticing her fingers tracing repetitive patterns around each other. He reached out and put his hand over hers to still her, turning casually back to his computer at the same time.

Guerin froze, looking down at his hand then back up to him as he gave a reassuring squeeze before moving his hand back to the mouse. Her chest tightened, sometimes he could be so chic it stressed her out. Even now he was acting like it was nothing which it very well could have just been a friend comforting another. Her brain went back to the conversation with Charlie before she remembered to focus on what JB was saying.

"Ah, sorry, could you repeat that last part?"

JB glanced at her, a slight smirk in place, fully believing he had distracted her, "I said, I think that's everything for now, are you ready to give it a shot?"

She kicked herself mentally, his expression was so cocky she wanted to snark back at him but her usual wit was hindered by her nerves, so she just nodded. JB handed her the headphones and adjusted the mic to her position.

Just like last time it was a bit rough at first, but unlike then JB offered support and feedback. He reacted genuinely and even laughed at some of her voice cracks, but she found it oddly comforting and it helped her relax and find her groove. His reactions would shift between cute praise, to simple eyebrow raises and nods, sometimes even exclamations if she hit a particularly difficult note. She couldn't help but fall into step with his mood.

"That's it. We got it." JB clapped once and turned in his chair to face Guerin as she beamed and removed the headphones. She did a small victory dance as she set the headphones back in their spot. JB held back a laugh.

"What?" She asked.

"It's a good thing you don't need to dance for this song." JB joked.

"Listen here you-" She raised her fist jokingly, making JB laugh again, "So now what happens?" Guerin asked.

"Now I put everything together." He said, turning back to the computer as she sat down next to him, looking at the screen.

"It's almost like another language." Guerin said, impressed.

"Nothing as intense at that." He shook his head, then began explaining basic parts of the programming as he started the process.

"I am in awe." She stated, "The creative process is so amazing. I love music but can't make it. Being able to do so is... mind blowing."

JB looked at Guerin who had moved unexpectedly close while he had been explaining the program. He studied her face for a moment before she looked up, curious about his silence.

"It's a compliment." She assured him, as though he didn't realize, "Your brain is special and cool."

JB tucked his chin into his neck and made an awkward face as a response. Guerin almost spit, covering her mouth as a laugh was startled out of her, volume easily matching Youngjae. JB just smiled as he waited for her to recover.

"What the hell?" She asked in delight, "Why are you so weird?"

"It's my special brain." JB shrugged. Guerin cackled again for a moment. Once she recovered he spoke again, "Guerin. There's an open mic night in a couple days. I go there sometimes to workshop songs. Will you come?"

"Like... to sing?" She asked apprehensively.

"No, just to support and give feedback." He said.

"Oh... yeah. I can do that." She agreed.

"Thanks Noona." He winked and held up a peace sign to his face for a cute moment before turning serious and going back to the song while Guerin was forced to recover from his unexpected attack.

Jackson was leaving for China the next day for some schedules for his upcoming album release. He wanted to celebrate with friends so he had a big get together, inviting all his fellow past trainee friends, Guerin and Charlie amongst some others. It was an odd mix of people, Guerin felt like she particularly stood out since her connection to the celebrity industry was tenuous at best.

"I'm not famous either." Charlie argued when Guerin voiced her nerves.

"Yeah but you work with them all the time." Guerin responded.

"You've met famous people before. You're even friends with one now." Charlie frowned.

"Yeah but usually that was in a very controlled professional setting. And Jackson is... different. I don't know." Guerin was starting to look more nervous. The two already stood out as obvious foreigners, but Guerin's sense of style made it worse. Charlie's purple hair and simple wardrobe helped her almost blend in, but Guerin's blue lips and green crop top felt more like regret than confidence to her now.

"You sound like you need a drink." Charlie turned her friend to a table so she could get started on some soju.

"Hell yeah I do." Guerin didn't need any convincing and went along willingly with the new plan. No sooner had they sat down then they were joined by familiar faces.

"You're going to need more people if you're planning on playing drinking games." Jinyoung had meandered over with JB. They both looked completely at home at the party, but they could have been wearing bathrobes and everyone else would have looked out of place.

"Oh, hi Jinyoung-ssi!" Charlie said as Guerin stood. "Jinyoung, this Go Guerin. Guerin this is Park Jinyoung."

They both greeted each other and bowed before sitting down. Jinyoung claimed a seat next to Charlie and JB nonchalantly slid in next to Guerin. "It's nice to meet you finally. I've heard so much about you." Jinyoung smiled at Guerin. He was so handsome her heart couldn't help but skip a beat. How did Charlie survive around him all the time? She glanced at JB before smiling to herself. The body finds a way to survive apparently.

"I hope it's mostly good things." She said in response.

"Excusively." He nodded.

"I haven't talked that much about Guerin to you." Charlie said to Jinyoung, puzzled.

"Oh, there's other people in our company that do." He said airily, unscrewing a bottle of soju and starting to pour out shots to avoid eye contact. Charlie and Guerin exchanged glances, then both looked to JB who was pointedly glaring at Jinyoung, waiting for him to look up. Jinyoung handed JB a shot first, making eye contact only then, he had to avoid laughing and instead handed out the rest of the glasses. Guerin raised her eyebrows but was distracted by soju.

After the first shot they began playing games and others came around to join them. The familiar Youngjae joined, along with Mark who settled on the other side of Charlie. Two new faces joined as well, Yugyeom and BamBam who would have been the youngest of their group. Yugyeom was now a choreographer and BamBam had many successful restaurants. The two especially were close friends. Yugyeom was on the other side of Guerin. She couldn't help coddling the tall maknae, he was so polite and formal with her and such a baby with everyone else.

"Stop picking on my son." Guerin admonished Jinyoung as BamBam cackled. "He's a good boy, be nice to him." She put a hand on his shoulder protectively.

"Yeah." Yugyeom agreed, a bit flushed from the soju.

"Guerin-ssi don't fall for it. It's an act." Jinyoung tried to reason with her. Mark and Charlie were giggling to each other beside him.

"No, look. He's just a baby." She pinched his cheek affectionately, saying in English, "Baby boy."

"Guerin, he's an adult man." JB tried to join in on Jinyoungs side. He somehow couldn't help but feel a little jealous with the attention his dongsaeng was getting.

"Well yeah. But he's also a baby." She shrugged.

"Noona, it's true, I'm a man." Yugyeom said with a serious expression, "But I can be cute for you if you like it." He said suddenly pulling out aegyo and making everyone at the table yell.

"What just happened?" Charlie yelled as she Mark and Jinyoung were in stitches. BamBam had fallen to the floor acting like he had been killed, Youngjae's loud laugh alerted the whole room to the event. Guerin had recoiled, her hand over her heart.

"I feel so attacked!" Guerin exclaimed, bumping into JB as she fanned herself. JB automatically put an arm around her as he leaned in to speak to Yugyeom.

"Ya, go easy on noona, she's weak to that nonsense."

Guerin had frozen when JB had moved in and she felt him behind her. She looked at his face next to her as he spoke to Yugyeom before willing herself to shake it off, but not before glancing at Charlie who had the most smug expression on her face. Jackson chose that moment to come up.

"Ya, what's all the commotion?" He looked at all of them with a grin that suddenly seemed a little forced when his eyes landed on JB and Guerin. The two separated subconsciously under his gaze.

"Hyung, Yugyeom is doing aegyo. It's awful." Jinyoung snitched readily.

"It was very good, just very unexpected." Guerin argued.

Jackson wasn't about to lose an aegyo competition if it meant showing off to Guerin. He forced his way between Yugyeom and Guerin and proceeded to use every opportunity to attack with anything from subtle pouts or small squirtle smiles to his more classic loud outbursts if he lost a game.

The party went on and they all broke off and intermingled. Jinyoung and Mark seemed to be vying for Charlie's attention so Guerin let them have it. She winked at JB and gestured with her head as she got up to walk away leaving the three on their own, so engrossed in their own conversation they didn't notice.

"I can't tell if she's blessed or cursed." Guerin said to JB quietly, referencing the trio they just left.

He glanced back and gave a half smile, "Maybe both."

"So I'm right? They both like her?" She cocked her head at him with a shit eating grin. He realized too late he might have given more confirmation than intended.

"Ah..." he was a bit tipsy from the alcohol and couldn't think of a clever way to backtrack, so he fell silent instead and shrugged.

"Oh come on, it's obvious." She laughed and patted his back reassuringly. He chuckled and rubbed his nose, still not trusting himself to speak. "It makes sense, she's a total catch." Guerin smiled, proudly talking up her friend, "If she picked one of them they'll be lucky."

"If?" JB asked, "Doesn't she like one of them more?"

Guerin looked at him with a smirk, "Trying to trick me now?"

He shrugged, playing it off as though he didn't really care, "I had to try."

"Well, as far as I know she doesn't even think either of them like her." Guerin frowned.

The irony of Guerin saying that was not lost on JB and he let out a laugh.

"I know, it's so obvious right?" Guerin said, mistaking the reason for his reaction.

"It really is." He laughed again.

"Noona, there you are!" Jackson found the duo after having left to socialize with other guests. He was an unrestrained extrovert and having the time of his life surrounded by friends. More and more people had left as the party dragged on and it seemed to finally be wrapping up.

"Hey Jackson!" She welcomed him back with a smile.

"It's so late, let me take you home." He said.

"You don't have to do that. I can get a cab." She said.

"I want to, I wanted to talk to you." He said earnestly. JB's reaction was nearly imperceptible, his mouth twitched slightly and his eyes flicked to his friend who was not looking at him. He focused on the glass he was holding instead.

"Oh... yeah okay. Let me make sure Charlie gets home safely though." She said, before the three of them headed back to the table.

"Hey Charlie, do you have a way home? Do you want me to call you a cab?" Guerin asked her friend.

"I can take her home." Mark said, before Charlie answered.

"I can do it. We live in the same direction, Mark, you'd be going out of your way." Jinyoung said, looking at Mark. Mark stared at Jinyoung for a few seconds.

"It's really okay I don't need as escort." Charlie said, her skin flush could have been from drinking or the idea of being alone with either attractive man, it was a mystery.

"You've been drinking. It's not safe. Besides, I'm heading that direction myself." Jinyoung pressed, putting a hand on Charlie's shoulder.

"Oh... uh... okay..." she said, turning more red at the physical contact.

Guerin couldn't help but feel a bit bad for Mark who had so obviously been railroaded. Guerin couldn't help but notice his expression was very subtly annoyed, but no one seemed to acknowledge it and he didn't say anything. Instead he turned back to his glass and finished off his beer.

"We'll head out first, if you're ready?" Charlie said as she stood, eager to put some distance between herself and Jinyoung. Her heart could only handle so much at one time. Jinyoung agreed and the two said their farewells, Guerin shot Charlie a look but her friend didn't reciprocate. Guerin chuckled, knowing her friend was nervous as the two left.

"I just need to say some goodbyes but I'll be ready soon!" Jackson said to Guerin.

"I'm not in a rush, take your time." Guerin waved him off, sitting back down at the table with Mark, JB following suit.

"I'm leaving too." Mark said standing suddenly. JB and Guerin waved him off as he forced a small smile and headed out, leaving the two alone. As soon as the door closed behind him Guerin turned to JB who had begun pouring the two of the a somaek.

"Is he gonna be okay?" Guerin asked, accepting the beverage gratefully.

"Hmm?" JB looked up, eyebrows raised unquestioningly. He took a sip, looking at the door Mark had walked out of, then shrugged, "Yeah."

Guerin frowned, unconvinced, "He looked upset..." she followed suit, drinking with JB.

"He'll talk if he wants to when he's ready." JB said. Guerin continued to look at him, so he gave a small smile, "No one can make Mark do something he doesn't want to. He'll either get over it or confront it when he's ready."

"It would just be a shame for Jinyoung and Mark to lose their friendship." Guerin said, casting her gaze down to her drink.

JB watched her pensively, then reached out his glass to clink against hers, "Jjan. Drink up." Then drank deeply. Guerin tsked but followed suit with a small smile.

"Don't worry so much. Focus on me. Let's just have fun." He said with a chic smile.

"Oof. JB." She pretended to be put off by his cheesy line, but the truth was it had made her stomach clench and her face felt warm. It really should be against the law for someone as attractive as him to be so smooth.

The two chatted for a bit before settling into a comfortable silence until Jackson joined them again. Naturally with him around the conversation ramped up until it was time to go. JB waved the two off and went his own way, sparing a glance back to their retreating forms.

"Sorry to put you out like this." Charlie said as they neared her apartment. Her and Jinyoung had chatted comfortably on the walk back, making the trek itself seem very short.

"It was nothing. I enjoyed it." Jinyoung assured her, a natural smile played at the corners of his lips.

"Well... I appreciate the gesture." She couldn't being herself to look at him, instead forcing a smile and turning to head inside.

"Wait, please." Jinyoung reached out and took her wrist, stopping her from moving away from him. She stared at his hand holding her, speechless. He quickly dropped it, "I'm sorry." He added hastily.

"I-it's okay. What is it?" She spoke slowly, translating her shocked brain deliberately from english to Korean.

"I wanted to say... I..." Jinyoung uncharacteristically struggled with his words and Charlie waited nervously. As he stammered out words, a motorbike buzzed down the alleyway past her complex with a large pile of rugs tied to the back.

"Look out!" She said in English, but it didn't matter because in the same breath she grabbed Jinyoung's arm and yanked him toward her and away from the road, backing into the wall of her apartment complex. Jinyoung shot his free arm up, landing it against the wall Charlie was against. He watched the bike disappear around the corner with a scowl before looking down at Charlie, inches away from him, under his arm against the wall in unintentionally close quarters. As she recovered from the shock of getting him to safety, Charlie was then stuck dealing with an issue of boundaries. She couldn't look at his face for more than a glance or two but his neck, clavicle and shoulders were hardly a better option. She licked her suddenly dry lips, "Ah... sorry, he just looked... close to hitting you an-"

"I like you." Jinyoung said suddenly.

"You... What?" She asked, surprised.

"I like you. I want to date you." Jinyoung added to his comment.

"... What?" She said again, shaking her head and blinking.

Jinyoung chuckled, taking her chin in his hand and moving her face to look at him, "I like you. I want to date you."

"You. Like me?" She said in disbelief.

He furrowed his brow, "Why wouldn't I?"

"I don't know. A thousand reasons. Do you really need me to name them all?" She argued insistently.

"You could if you want. But I like you. You're good at your job. Clever. Thorough. Cute. Fun. Smart. I look forward to seeing you everyday. Our shooting schedule is ending soon and I don't want to stop seeing you regularly." Jinyoung leaned in closer as he spoke, causing Charlie's breath to hitch in her throat.

"I... what do I say? I didn't see this coming?" She said breathlessly. She quickly continued, seeing Jinyoungs face fall as he waited, "I like spending time with you too I just... you never struck me at the... type?" She argued again, dispassionately

"The type to what?" He asked, brow furrowing.

"The type... to like me?" She added quietly.

"I'm being genuine." He almost pouted and moved back slightly, giving her more space. She was both disappointed and relieved, "But what do you feel?" He asked, clearly looking for an answer to his confession.

Charlie didn't need to think, she wasn't questioning her own feelings. Those were making themselves very obvious as her heart began feeling like it would pound out of her chest. She shut off her brain and all it's arguments and doubts. Her hands moved forward of their own accord, grabbing the front of his shirt to stop him from moving further away.

"I like you too, of course." She said quickly.

Jinyoung, being the experienced actor he was, controlled his facial expression and opted for an amused and cocky smirk as he looked down at her hands and back up at her, "Of course?" He teased her word choice.

"Oh god, stop." She blushed at the call out, sropping her hands and covering her face out of embarrassment.

Jinyoung dropped the act and laughed at her cute reaction, unable to help himself he pulled her into a hug. Charlie was trapped in his arms and it wasn't an unpleasant place to be but she hardly had time to react before it was over. They both hesitated awkwardly, unsure of what to say next. Jinyoung met Charlie's gaze, then glanced up to her apartment, both of them knowing the interaction had to end, but Charlie didn't want him to leave so soon.

"Do you... want to come upstairs?" She asked tentatively.

His eyes widened for a moment before turning his head slightly to look at her from the corner of his eyes questioningly.

"Oh god no, not like that, I didn't mean, no, I just meant to, talk or... oh god. Nevermind." Charlie stammered, half of her words in English.

Jinyoung laughed again at his adorable new girlfriend. He took her face in his hands, "I'd love to join you upstairs." He said smoothly, then kissed her forehead, causing her blush to return.

"Not fair." She pouted, then turned and punched her code into the building door.

"What isnt fair?" He asked.

"You're a drama actor and this is all new to me, so you get to be the cool one." She shot him a sulky look and moved inside as he laughed again and followed her.

Jackson and Guerin had been walking for a while, they kept doing laps around her apartment before they opted to walk along the river instead. Their conversation had developed more depth as they talked about their lives and history.

"I'm glad you were able to find success in your dream." Guerin said, "But sometimes it doesn't work out, y'know?" She took advantage of his language skills to relax and pepper her korean with english slang, "And I'm not unhappy, I just didn't see my life going this way." She shrugged.

"Are you happy?" He asked.

"Are you?" She asked in turn.

Jackson looked thoughtful, "Sometimes. I am right now." He cocked his head and she smiled fondly.

"It's a trick question. No one is happy all the time. It's just nice when it happens more than not. I think I'm there." Guerin nodded.

"Are you happy right now?" He asked. She was looking ahead and missed his expression.

"Yeah, this is a pretty good place to be." She smiled as she gave her honest answer.

Jackson reached out and took her hand, stopping so she had to turn to see him.

"I like you."

Guerin was shocked and didn't move except to blink at him, "You... what?" She was convinced she had misheard him.

"I'm happy with you. I want to be with you more. I like you." He said, his gravelly voice deepening with his earnest confession.

"I... Jackson?" She looked at their hands as he squeezed, nervously waiting for her reaction.

"Jackson." She started and stopped again.

"Noona, I'm dying here." He said with a nervous smile, shaking the hand he was holding and stepping closer. Her heart started up again full force, sending the blood back to her brain.

"Sorry." She gave a breathless laugh at how cute he was, "Jackson I don't know what to say. I'm surprised. I mean. I like you too-" his face started to light up, "But that's a lot to take on and I'm not even sure if it's romantic."

His face fell and he took a step back. It was her turn to hold onto his hand as he went to let go.

"Listen, Jackson, you're so sweet and kind and talented and unbearably handsome." He looked up at her, looking more than ever like a hopeful puppy, "I'm serious it's hard to look at you sometimes. I like being around you so much but I worry that we aren't compatible romantically."

There was a few moments of silence before Jackson spoke, "Then think about it." Guerin cocked her head at him, "I'm going to China tomorrow for my album release. Take the time to think about us and answer me when I get back in two weeks."

Guerin paused then slowly started to nod her head, "Yeah... okay. I'll do that."

"Now you know how I feel so think hard." He stepped close again, brushing his free hand against the side of her face then cupping her cheek as he made eye contact. She held his gaze as long as she could before she had to duck away, making him laugh as she exclaimed, "Ah, you're too powerful Jackson Wang."

It started to drizzle forcing the two to end the night. Jackson got her to her door, "Remember, think about me." He grinned boyishly, then leaned in suddenly close. Guerin took a moment to realize what he was waiting for. Turning her cheek to his face she tapped on her face in an invitation. Jackson gave a chaste peck, then exclaimed in excitement, leaning away. Guerin couldn't help but giggle at how cute he was.

"Go home, and dry off!" She shooed him away as the rain started to come down harder.

"I'm standing here until you go inside!" He called back, with a big grin, opening his arms to the rain.

"Oh my god." She chose not to argue and went inside before shooing him away again from inside. He skipped off happily. Guerin exhaled and shook her head. "What the hell." She said under her breath before starting up the stairs.

JB sat on the patio of his apartment, mostly sheltered from the rain other than a gentle splash back causing a build up of dew on him that slowly gathered and soaked into his clothes and dampened his hair. He held his camera, taking pictures of puddles, the lights through the rain and the people hustling below both with and without umbrellas. He was completely in his own head. Finally he got up and went inside to shower and warm up.

[nekojitachan]

Is there drama in the aftg fandom again? I mean, I'm not even on tumblr that much and when I am I just check the select 5 blogs I actually like and call it a day, so I'm just really confused. Is this about incest again? Didn't we deal with this shit already? Who even started this and why are you accused of supporting incest? I'm genuinely curious why people keep doing this instead of just getting off their high morality horses and finding a hobby that doesn't include bullying and spreading lies

Ah… okay, trying not to add to everything and I apologize if people are tired of this but basically? Yes, it appears one of the antis posted a ‘block these people because they support incest’ list which stirred things up again (I didn’t even know about it at the time because I have a lot of people blocked from the last time). Apparently I’m on because I’m now accused of writing incest (WTF?) and support it, and they’re including people who are friends with incest supporters. Or if you block them out of disagreement with their stance.

Oh, and I write Ichineil pairings (which that I can’t argue with, mostly). What that has to do with incest, I’ve not a clue, except now they’re expanding to their NOTP pairings (even though the fic they cited had it as an extremely minor side pairing and listed dubcon and… whatever. They couldn’t even use Raven’s Partner?).

So yes, that’s basically what this is about.

For the record? I DO NOT support incest. I haven’t ever written about it (all I ever did was leave a comment or two on a friend’s fic). What I DO support is people not being told what they can and can’t write. I write some dark topics and I try to write in a responsible manner, and I always tag appropriately (and I welcome people telling me about missed tags). Some people can handle what I write, and some people can’t (even though I go out of my way to make sure it’s relevant to the plot and as ungraphic as possible, and deals more with recovery than anything). I’ve had people tell me that my fics have helped them deal with things in their lives, which is why I feel it’s important that you can NOT tell people ‘stop writing this’. And let me tell you, that’s what makes sitting down for hours writing thousands of words and pouring out one’s heart into a Word doc so worthwhile.

People write what they write for a variety of reasons. Sometimes it’s not good, which sucks, but a lot of times good does come out it. And if you censor what can be written, that’s going to inhibit what good stories can do for people. Funny, but this started out to be a campaign to rid the AFTG fandom of nasty incest fics (yet oddly enough, not the graphic violence, the parental abuse, the rape and drug abuse and misogyny…), and now it’s moved onto unapproved pairings, it seems. The censorship is already growing, the ‘ban’ list is also growing (not just those of us who have ‘sinned’ but guilt by association and not agreeing with the antis).

Is anyone seeing something wrong with this?

For the record, I tend to keep my personal life private. There’s reasons for that, in part because I’ve been in fandom for a while and been burned a time or two, seen things happen to other friends that make me leery. I’m also just a very private person in general. But I find this whole incest accusation thing very insulting and demeaning and downright hypocritical considering things that have happened to me in my life.

Again, I do not support or condone incest in any way. I still support people being able to write what they want to write, but they better properly tag the shit out of it and yes, they need to accept the repercussions of what they write (that people won’t like it and so forth).

And I sincerely hope that people find something better to do than stir up drama. Personally, I just want to spend my free time writing, relaxing with my husband and playing with my cats without having to deal with this, and I’m sure the majority of the fandom is tired of this.

[aroacehogwarts]

could hufflepuff mod write about demiromantic pansexual trans boy lily and biromantic demisexual trans girl james raising harry together? (i'm not sure what james and lily would change their names to, but i think jamie would work for james!)

I’m glad people (or maybe just one of you =p ) are enjoying these types of stories!

(Trans people aren’t required to change their names, and if they do, it doesn’t have to be close to their deadname. I know that makes things easier in fandom so we know who is who but for the sake of representing this, I chose the name Noah for Lily, who I feel would like the softer qualities of both names, though in Rowling-verse, it’s pretty likely she would choose some sort of floral-inspired name for her middle name, like maybe Ash, Basil, Sage, or Rowan.)

~

Noah thought it all a little flowery and dramatic, but he truly did love Jamie, and what was wrong with indulging your significant other every now and then? With a flick of his wand, he finished conjuring the last of the flowers to decorate the Potter’s backyard. With a deep breath, he brushed his suit off, felt in the pocket to ensure the ring was there, and situated himself in the middle of the arrangement he’d conjured. In just a few minutes, Sirius, Remus, and Peter would all return to the Potter’s House, where Euphemia would insist on inviting them all in for some tea. Jamie would protest that they’d just gone out for food, but Peter would claim he was still hungry and Remus would shrug like ‘who can argue with your mum?’, then Sirius would drag them all in and flash Jamie a grin. Because the two were so close, the grin would give Jamie her first flutters that something was up. When Euphemia said it was such a nice night that they should gather in the backyard for tea, Jamie would know before she stepped outside what -

Noah smiled at his beloved. He was certain his hands were shaking.

Jamie shook her head and tried to back inside, but an excitable Sirius gave her a rough push towards Jamie. “N-now?” she asked, stumbling towards Noah.

Noah knelt to one knee, presenting the ring to Jaime. He did his best to block out Euphemia, Fleamont, Sirius, Remus, Peter, Marlene, and Alice (the last two of which had been hiding inside in waiting), gathered and grinning back near the house.

“You know better than anyone how rough a start we had, Jamie,” he started, the words tumbling out too low and fast to hide just how nervous he was, “but you should also know better than anyone else what we’ve been through and just how much I love you. I don’t know how long it will be, but I want to spend every last second of our life together. Will you marry me? Potter?”

And then, as if she’d been stuck in slow motion, Jamie rushed the rest of the way to him, bending to pull him up and kiss him, deeply, desperately. “Yeah, of course, No’! Dammit, put that ring on me now.”

Noah laughed as he slid the ring on Jamie’s finger as their friends and family came out to hug and celebrate with them.

.

Jamie had thought she was the only trans person at Hogwarts. What a silly thought that had been. In fifth year, everything began changing, and that’s when she bit the jinx and came out and moved into a dorm that seemed oddly lonely compared to where she’d slept her first few years.

In the week that followed her coming out (which was in true, spectacular Marauder’s style thanks to her amazing friends), Professor Flitwick gave her five points for good spellwork when she was distracted and goofing off in class, Professor McGonagall asked her to come to her office and treated her to some biscuits, no less than 17 students (spanning all four Houses, no less) thanked her or high fived her for “you know what you did”, and the student he’d been voraciously pursuing since first year offered his (hers at the time) hand and said “things have been quieting down between us for a while now. What do you say to officially starting offer?” It wasn’t until a year later that Noah came out and switched dorms, but that moment had meant everything to Jamie.

.

“That’s actually called asexuality,” Remus nonchalantly remarked, taking his third homemade chocolate chip cookie of the night.

“Hm?” Jamie distractedly asked, Noah’s legs in her lap as she played with his hair, simply adoring his new haircut.

“What you just described. Well, technically, asexual spectrum - and more specifically, demisexuality. You know. You only romanticaly liking Noah until long after you two became friends and started dating.”

“Wait, what?” Noah said, slapping Jamie’s hands away. He looked very intensely at Remus and Jamie took that as a sign to pay attention.

Remus sighed. “Was that a please-repeat-what-you-said-for-a-third-time-what?”

An annoyed look crossed Noah’s face and he pushed hard down on Jamie’s shoulder in order to stand. The movement was awkward thanks to the eight month old baby growing inside of him. “Remus,” he started, Jamie quickly shifting to help push her husband up to standing all the way, “I am super pregnant, which is making me incredibly uncomfortable. I’ve been holding what is probably my 50th pee of the day for the past half hour, trying to block out your loud-as-Merlin’s-balls-slapping-together cookie crunching, and my ankles are just throbbing. I am also getting more and more dysphoric by the day, so much so that I’m not sure how I’m going to survive another month of this, no matter how much I want this little one, and I was having what was the most intimate time with my partner since this pregnancy began and you and the other’s refused to let us have any time alone. So yeah, when I ask you to actually explain what you’ve barely hinted at twice, I am really asking you to explain.”

Jamie ducked her face below the couch to try and smother out the giggles. She actually heard Moony’s gulp as he set down the cookie and tried to placate Noah with a surrendering hand gesture. Face smoothed over, Jamie peeked up over the couch.

And that’s when Remus gave them a thorough and informative explanation on asexuality and the asexual spectrum. Noah finally took a break to pee, and when he returned, Remus finished by talking about aromanticism. Then, seemingly for good measure, offered to talk about other identities, such polysexual, polyromantic, and nonbinary identities.

Jamie thought that Remus could have shared this information with them much sooner. She immediately pegged herself as demisexual, finally clicking into place what her sexuality was. Not just bisexual but bi and demisexual. For once, she did her thinking quietly, as Noah murmured. “Demiromantic. Oooooh.”

“Hey!” Jamie said. “Does that make us demi buddies?”

Noah rolled his eyes, but laughed. “Demi multisexual buddies,” he smiled. Noah was pansexual. Seems like Remus’ lecture had done the best job of distracting Noah from his dysphoria yet, as her husband looked more comfortable - if he could be called comfortable at this point - than he had in months.

“Hey, how long’ve you been sitting on all that, Moony?” Noah had been the one to teach them (well, Remus, who had then shared it with the rest of the Marauders) about things like gay and bi and pan (Remus was bi while Sirius was gay, they’d eventually realized), so it was interesting now for Remus to be on the sharing side and Noah the learning side.

“Erm… a couple years now. A while after Noah helped me realize I was bi, I got curious. Were these muggle-only terms? Did we have our own terms that had been created? Were there other possibilities, other identities? How common have these been throughout history? So I started doing some research.”

Noah, who was closer to Remus than Jamie, swatted at him. “And you never shared? Rude,” he teased, though he was clearly exasperated. 

“Sorry.” Remus lifted his hand to his neck and rubbed at it. “Things, ah, happened… between us. And it… didn’t seem important after that.”

Oh, Jamie realized. Sirius using Remus and almost getting Severus killed. Yeah. That… had been a terrible year. Things still hadn’t exactly returned to normal, even now.

“You talking earlier. For some reason, it just made that pop back in my head.”

. 

“Harry,” Noah said, smiling down at his precious new baby, finally revealing his name choice to Jamie. They’d both decided to just pick their favorite names and decide which order they should go in after the baby was born. They didn’t do anything like pick a name for either a boy or girl. They just picked their favorites. Harry: a new name for a new member of their family.

Jamie squeezed his shoulder and looked down upon her child, unable to stop grinning. “James,” she revealed. 

Noah looked up at her, then smiled. A name of their past, which also served as a nod to Jamie’s parents. Both had semi-recently lost their parents (Noah’s hadn’t even seen their wedding), though Jamie more recently so and having a lot of trouble moving forward from it.

“Harry James,” Noah whispered.

“James Harry?” Jamie said, but she already knew.

“Harry James,” the new parents said in unison. Harry blinked. Their hearts absolutely melted in cuteness.

.

“Harry, please, go to sleep,” Jamie begged, rocking the babe for what seemed like hours now.

He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had been rallying hard recently, especially against their little family and the poor Longbottom’s, now with a beautiful baby of their own. Just a couple weeks ago, Dumbledore himself had come to Jamie and Noah and insisted they and Harry were in grave danger and needed to hide. With Dumbledore and Sirius both pushing hard for them to hide and the desire to protect Harry overriding everything else, they’d agreed.

Harry was seemingly less than happy at the arrangement. Or maybe Jamie was projecting. 

She loved Noah with all her heart, and she didn’t even understand how her heart beat before Harry had been born, but being locked up inside their house without any of their friends and no news of the outside world was wearing on all of them.

.

Harry was cradled against Noah’s chest. For once, he was silent, as silent as the tears that rolled down Noah’s face. Jamie herself felt numb. She could be crying. She honestly didn’t know.

Moony looked like shit. Between even more scars thanks to Dumbledore’s work for him and the lack of sleep he’d gotten seemingly singlehandedly trying to organize Sirius’ trail, he was a complete wreck. Jamie’d never seen him look so bad, not even right after a full moon.

“Peter… Wormtail - he… betrayed us?” So much had happened so quickly. How could it have all gone down like this?

“Sirius put things together, realized Peter was going to betray you. Went after them. There was a big duel. Aurors are saying he’s dead, but… you know. Unregistered animagus. Sirius thinks - and I agree - that he’s in the wind.” Aurors had arrested him and tried sending him to jail as a Death Eater, but Remus and Dumbledore had apparently rallied hard last night, immediately after he was arrested, and at least managed to secure him a trial. Jamie hated to think what would have happened if He-Who-Had-Must-Not-Be-Named had gone after them instead of the Longbottom’s. Not just because that would mean their child had been murdered but because then Sirius would be the only one with the knowledge that Peter was the secret-keeper and he’d have no chance even with a trial. As it was, it was only thanks to Remus’ ingenious thought of letting them all communicate through objects charmed with the protean charm in case anything had gone bad that Jamie had known it was time to come out of hiding.

“Alice and Frank?” Noah’s voice cracked. Jamie had known Alice and talked with Frank a few times, but Alice and Noah had been really close, especially after what had happened with Severus.

Moony looked down and shook his head. “Dead,” he said, voice raspy and thin. “Killed protecting Neville.”

Noah shook his head and bent over Harry, kissing the top of his skull and dripping tears on his head.

“Neville?” Jamie asked. Remus had been slowly taking them through everything they’d missed since they’d gone in hiding. Jamie was exhausted and heartbroken. She didn’t want to ask but had to know.

“Scarred. But alive, somehow. I think Dumbledore said something about ancient magicks, but… I wasn’t really listening past Neville surviving and… and defeating Him.”

Jamie shook his head. Neville’s life as a miracle but a miracle she didn’t understand.

“Who-” Noah looked up again, “is he going to?” Jamie understood in that instant that Noah would volunteer them to adopt Neville if their family situation was like hers and Noah’s. And Jamie would absolutely go along with it.

“Grandmother, I believe.” Remus rubbed at his eyes and stifled a yawn.

“Here,” Jamie got up on instinct, her mother’s blood running through her veins. “When was the last time you slept? Borrow our bed. Trust me, we understand exhaustion. Get some sleep.”

Remus looked at Noah for confirmation, but he was done. He held Harry close and stared at the table. Jamie gently led her friend to bed. She had so many more questions, but then, didn’t they all?

.

“NOAH, NOOOAAAH!” Jamie screamed, too excited to control her volume, even though she knew it could scare Harry.

“What!?” Noah rushed into their living room, and Jamie felt bad for scaring him.

She danced, jumping from foot to foot, and pointed at Harry. “He’s walking; he’s walking!”

Indeed, on chubby legs, little Harry had pulled himself up on his legs and was toddling his fourth step towards his mum.

The worry immediately melted away from Noah’s face as he gracefully sank to his knees and held his arms out. Not to specifically reach for Harry, though that’s what it looked like. Feeling as though she was positively glowing, Jamie followed suit, bending down to the floor and holding her arms art. “That’s right, my little fawn, come to mommy!”

Giggles burst forth out of Harry as he sped up and fell into Jamie’s arms. Jamie laughed and picked him up, holding up towards the ceiling. “That was amazing, little fawn!”

Noah’s one arm snaked around Jamie’s waist as the other reached up to grab at Harry’s hand. He clutched Noah’s hand back, happily kicking his legs, glad to have made his parents happy.

“Sirius is going to kick himself for missing this!”

Noah kissed her cheek. “I bet winning that money from you and Remus will help him get over it, though.”

Jamie lowered Harry to her chest. “What?” she sputtered. “I don’t-”

Noah laughed and leaned towards Harry to kiss him on the cheek too. Harry clapped. “You think I don’t know when you bet on our son with your friends.” Noah shook his head and lightly slapped Jamie on the butt. “You should know me better than that by now, dear.”

Jamie laughed, relaxing. She kissed Harry’s forehead and was rewarded with more giggling and clapping. “Let’s see how far you can walk,” she said proudly, gently placing Harry back on the ground.

Noah returned to the other side of the room, lighting up. “Yes, that’s right. Can you walk all the way over here, Harry?”

.

Merlin, oh Merlin, it looked bad! “C’mere, Harry,” Noah said, heart pounding furiously. “Let me see.” His five year old son sobbed, big ol’ gator tears that, for once, Noah was frightened by. “Just let me see it, okay?”

“Ow, ow, oooow,” Harry cried, not lifting his hands from his knee, though even through the hands, Noah could see the blood.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Jamie said, coming to a rest behind Harry instead of hovering over Noah. “Oh, I’m so sorry, just let dad have a look, okay.”

“Noo, hurts!” Harry hiccuped. 

“Here,” Noah said. “Breathe with me, Harry. Look, breathe in… Okay, out. When you breathe out, take your hands off, okay? It’ll help it not hurt.”

Jamie combed her fingers through her kid’s thick, wild hair, as wild as her own. “And when you let go, you can hold my hand and squeeze it as hard as you want, okay?”

Harry nodded, already sniffling.

“Breathe in… Ready? And out…” Noah gently lifted Harry’s hands from his knee. Jamie reached in, taking Harry’s small hands in her own. He immediately started squeezing tight, sucking in a breath of air through a wavering lip. Jamie kissed the top of his head.

Noah’s eyes crinkled and tightened. Nearly immediately after, Harry’s grip relaxed and he dropped Jamie’s hand to pull at his knee, eyes wide in amazement. Noah’s expression relaxed. “See, all better, right?”

“Mommy!” Harry said, already forgetting he was supposed to be appearing pathetic. With another wordless spell, Noah cleaned their son up, taking the blood of his - and Jamie’s - hands as well. After another moment’s inspection, Harry grew bored and stood up by putting his hands on the ground, sticking his butt in the air, and then straightening up. Jamie laughed.

Harry ran back to the toy broom he’d fallen off of only moments later. The floating spell had deactivated as soon as Harry had rolled off, and it started up again as Harry put his hand over it and the broom jumped into his hand. “Again, again! I wanna ride more!” He bounced on his feet, looking expectantly at Noah and Jamie, trying to decide who’d be most likely to let him back on the broom.

Noah shook his head but didn’t dissent. With a whoop, Jamie leaped up and went to help Harry back on the broom, though she did flick the hover down lower so if Harry fell again, it wouldn’t be from so high. When it was clear Harry had his balance back, Jamie went to stand by Noah. She gave her a friendly elbow. “Did you see that? He’s a natural,” she grinned.

“You mean he doesn’t know when to quit,” Noah deadpanned, but Jamie knew she wasn’t angry.

.

Of course they’d brought Harry to Diagon Alley before, but there was something special about bringing your kid to Diagon Alley to go shopping for their first year of school.

They’d gotten Harry’s robes, books, and wand (holly with dragon core, slightly springy). They’d run into Hagrid at Madam Malkin’s and had a friendly reunion, introducing Harry to the groundskeeper. The two had immediately hit it off. Hagrid, unfortunately, couldn’t spend much time chatting, as he’d gotten Dumbledore to convince Augusta Longbottom to let him pick up Neville’s supplies. Apparently Augusta didn’t let the boy out much in order to avoid all the attention he would draw. Hagrid promised Harry they’d see each other again soon, though, and hustled off to his next stop. 

The three of them were currently at Eeylops Owl Emporium waiting for Harry to pick out an owl before they finished up by celebrating at Florean’s, where Remus and Sirius were waiting for them. Usually so decisive and quick to form an opinion, this was the longest either Noah or Jamie could remember him putting hard thought into something. (Then again, he was 11, so that was allowed.) They’d started at Magical Menagerie, where Harry had spent most his time eyeing the various snakes. When they’d realized Harry was likely to go for one of them instead of an owl, as they’d intended, they’d gently pushed him towards Eeylops, saying they should be sure to get a good look around everywhere they could.

Harry had lingered for a while over a large, snowy owl, who’d hooted softly and nipped at him. He’d also spent some time with a young burrowing owl who seemed playful, almost playing a game of hide-and-seek with Harry, who’d laughed and poked a finger in the cage and had to be reminded that wasn’t okay here.

“He’s taking this rather seriously, isn’t he?” the amused clerk commented.

Noah grinned, and Jamie nodded, happy to make some smalltalk as she continued to watch Harry. So far, nothing seemed to have piqued his interest as much as the snakes. Jamie whispered as such to the clerk, trying not to be overheard by Harry who, she and Noah hoped might forget if he stared at the owls for long enough. The clerk coughed to cover up their laughter, then addressed Harry.

“You know, Harry, it can help to talk to them. Just introduce yourself. See which of them speak to you.”

In true, confident 11-year-old fashion, Harry waved her off with a hand. “Owls don’t talk like us.”

Noah pinched the top of his nose with his fingers. The clerk simply smiled. “No, they can’t speak to us like humans speak to each other. But if you take good care of your pet, it can become your familiar. That means forming a bond with it. Your familiar can understand you when no one else does, and you may find that you understand your familiar more than just as a pet. To be able to do that, though, you need to know that you can have good communication. If you say hi to one of these owls, and you don’t feel like it’s listening, then it may not be the pet or familiar for you. But if you feel like it could understand you, that’s a good sign.” The clerk’s eye twinkled.

Harry stared at the clerk, head tilted to the side, deep in thought. He looked over at Jamie, who nodded and smiled encouragingly. Finally, he looked at Noah, who had that serious look on his face that Harry knew meant something was somehow important to his dad. That broke it. Harry smiled and started babbling away to the owls. 

“Hi, owl! Hi, owl! Hi, owl!” he went around waving at several owls. “We have a cat, you know. Dad says owls and cats don’t always get along together. Do any of you feel brave enough to face our cat? I want someone who will be friends with my cat, can you do that?” Harry wandered through the cages, taking the clerk’s words to heart.

Noah looked over at the clerk, raising an eyebrow in question. The clerk winked. “Just wait,” she said. “Any minute now.”

When they looked back, Harry was standing in front of the cage of a gorgeous barred owl without a nameplate. “This one!” he said brightly, turning to them all. Jamie was sure her grin matched the one on Noah’s face. No snake for them today. That was good. To be honest, Jamie was the tiniest bit frightened of snakes. She was pretty sure Noah’s worries were more along the lines of feeding the thing, since snakes weren’t allowed at Hogwarts as pets.

An owl heavier, they finally headed off to Florean’s. All Harry’s supplies, except his wand, which Jamie made room for in her own wand holster, were stuffed in a bottomless bag, which they had Harry carrying across his back. Noah held the owl’s cage, promptly named Owlbert (which Jamie loved and knew Sirius and even Remus would get a kick out of, too), in one hand and Jamie’s hand in the other. Harry walked - nearly skipped - in front of them, leading the way.

Jamie squeezed Noah’s hand. “Calla’s pretty old. Think she’ll survive the shock of us bringing an owl into the house.”

“Don’t even joke. This owl better prepare itself.”

Jamie laughed and felt Noah’s thumb rub over the back of her hand. Noah loved that cat. Jamie wasn’t sure if they’d ever be able to get another cat again if Calla died.

.

“Aww,” Jamie said, leaning her head to rest on Noah’s shoulder as they read Harry’s letter together. “His first crush!”

“Maybe.” Harry’s own description was confused on how he was feeling. “Did we prepare him well enough?” Noah worried.

Jamie laughed. “For what?”

“I don’t know…” Noah lifted a hand to twirl it in the air a few times. “To understand how he’s feeling. I know it was a long time ago, Jamie, but do you remember how confused and lost you felt before you knew bi was a thing? Heck before you knew about demisexuality?”

Jamie immediately quieted. Honestly, she hadn’t remembered. It had been a long time. Were they really that old?

“Coming in!” Sirius bellowed from the fireplace, already inside. Jamie laughed, thankful for her friend breaking the awkward silence.

“In here!” Jamie shouted.

Two sets of footprints announced that Remus was with Sirius a moment before they entered the kitchen. “Wazzat?”

“Letter from Harry,” Noah said, handing it over. Harry loved and trusted his Uncles. They were basically extra parents to him. He knew and expected that all letters home would go to Moony and Padfoot, too - often left them special messages in his letters.

“Aww,” Remus smiled.

“His first crush,” Sirius finished. “How exciting. Third year, though. Does that seem sorta late to any of you?”

Noah shrugged. “Not to me.”

They all stared at the letter. Then Jamie laughed and clapped Noah on the back. “He might take after you, then, No’!”

Noah smiled and looked down, but Jamie saw the worry roiling underneath. She knew they’d spend the rest of the day crafting a letter back to Harry. None of them minded, though. Harry was pretty much the center of all their worlds. And with all the trouble he got into at school, this was a mild problem in comparison. One they could actually help solve.

When they’d finished crafting, they put their heads together and worked on modifying a howler to calmly and lovingly give their messages to Harry. He deserved to at least be able to hear their voices for this, if they couldn’t be there to answer his questions in person.

.

This was worse than the first time. The first time, they were scared for Harry, but they could fight for him. He was theirs to protect and look over. This time, Harry was nearly as old as they had been and facing He-Who-Had-Must-Not-Be-Named’s presence at Hogwarts since first year. He was old enough to make a choice, and he had. Right after they’d all returned from the mess of Bill Weasley and Fleur Delacour’s wedding. Although Ron and Harry were schoolmates and pals, Harry wasn’t a close enough friend of Ron’s to warrant an invite to his brother’s wedding. All Order members had basically become family of Molly and Arthur Weasley’s, though. The attack had come after the ceremony. Neville (who was closer with Ron than Harry), Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Luna had all disappeared as the attack started.

A terrified and ferocious Jamie and Noah had found an ashen-faced Harry sandwiched between Remus and Sirius, wand still held out in defense. They’d rushed to Harry’s side, checking for injuries. Remus quietly told them that Harry had done great, been holding his own before Remus and Sirius made it over to him. When they’d finally gotten him to talk, he’d only whispered, “Ginny”. Turns out, their son had been flirting with the youngest Weasley for the past year, and they’d been secretly toying with the idea of a relationship. Harry had seen it when her group had disapparated (or, more likely, Hermione apparated them all away - genius recognizes genius and the Marauders and Noah continued to be stunned by Harry’s stories of her successes, even secondhand told).

Even though returning to Hogwarts meant going to school under a Death Eater, Harry had stood proudly before the four of them and declared, “I don’t care. I’m going back. Other students won’t have a choice. Me and the others, we have to be there for them.”

Jamie steeled her heart and didn’t let her face react. She was sure Noah’s, Sirius’, and Remus’ were much the same. Proud and steely. Worried. Wishing they hadn’t raised such an independent, compassionate Gryffindor. Noah nodded, but it was Jamie who stood and wrapped Harry in a hug. “You give ‘em hell from the inside. Your dad and uncles and I will give them hell from out here.”

Harry gave a half-laugh, half-sigh. Slowly, Noah, Remus, and Sirius stood to join them. Sirius ruffled Harry’s hair. “Always stand up for yourself, Harry.”

It was Noah’s plea that broke the dam, though. “Come back to us, Harry.” His voice broke as he said it.

The night that they sent Harry back off to Hogwarts, the station full of tight-lipped, crying, gray-faced families, Noah and Jamie laid in bed, limbs completely entangled and periodically crying. They didn’t sleep a wink. They rose to Sirius lying awake on the couch and Remus starting coffee for them all. The house was oddly silent. Noah and Jamie, and likely Remus and Sirius as well, felt more resolved and determined than ever. It was time to finally see the end of this damn war.

.

The Battle of Hogwarts, like all battles, had its downtimes, in which time moved too slowly and things were too clear. During the action periods, everything moved too fast, but at least there was no time to wonder or see who all had died. Jamie and Noah had managed to stick by each other’s side, but they hadn’t seen Harry since the Order initially confronted Headmaster Severus. Sometime after that, Remus and Sirius had been assigned to protect different sides of the castle as them, as well.

When they knew Neville was marching off to the forest to die for them all, they did find Augusta and do what they could to be with her. She’d screamed, a harsh, broken sound, then broken down in tears that she staunchly ignored as she paced back and forth.

It wasn’t until the Battle was over and bodies were being dragged into the Great Hall that Jamie and Noah saw any of their family again. “Merlin, no,” Jamie had whispered, spotting him first, and dashed in between students and families and staff alike. Noah saw what she was headed to a second later and broke into a run after her.

Kingsley Shacklebolt and Minerva McGonagall were carrying an all too familiar body. Minerva caught sight of Jamie and Noah headed toward’s them. Her stony expression fell for an instant, and she said something to Kingsley. They changed course and laid Remus Lupin on the ground.

“No, no, no, no, no,” Jamie was saying as she skidded to a stop, kneeling before Remus’ body. Her hands ran over his face, his neck, his wrist, trying to somehow pass some of her life into him. Noah hovered over his wife, the fear clear on his face. Minerva put a hand on Noah’s shoulder, then Jamie’s, then left them. The tears had come, and Jamie couldn’t stop them. Noah looked frantically around him. Please, please don’t have let them all died.

From across the hall, Noah spotted Sirius’ iconic hair. Almost in slow motion, Sirius turned and made eye contact with Noah. He shook his head, at first unable to move, then walked stiffly towards them, as if forcing himself to come and see who had died. When he was close enough to ID Remus, he roared and fell to his knees where he was, still several feet away. The Hall was a place of grief and mourning for the moment. His roar of heartbreak had hardly been the first and no one bothered looking at him or telling him to shush. Unmoving, unable to join Jamie or Noah over one of his best pals, he looked up to Noah. “Harry,” he mouthed. A question. An order. Noah didn’t know, but he couldn’t look at Remus any longer. Hoping that Jamie would understand his plan, he turned and walked out of the hall. He had to find his child. He had to find Harry.

They all should have helped move and recover bodies, but none of them could. Noah walked past the Weasley’s, bent over the body of one of theirs, past Augusta practically smothering Neville as Luna, smothered by her own father, seemed to be working to get them both a little air. He walked past bodies of children who looked too young to have been allowed to stay and fight. He walked past the bodies of elves, only being grieved by other elves for the moment. He walked past groups of people working to move chunks of stone and make sure no one was underneath.

Noah walked what seemed the whole of Hogwarts, barely taking stock of its immense damage, unable to process all the death he passed. Finally, he stopped and turned to the portraits. Most in this hall were empty - many characters were running around the castle pointing out where they thought they’d seen bodies get buried, while others were simply visiting friends, mourning just the same as everyone else. An old wizard with a long, gray beard and a blue hat and a young woman in a pale, yellow dress were present, though.

“My son,” he tried, “my son, Harry Potter. Do you know him? Have you seen him?” The woman sadly shook her head no. Noah could no longer take it. He made his way back to the Great Hall, hoping Harry, still alive, would have made his way back there by now.

Noah passed Minerva on his way back into the Hall. She grabbed his arm. “Your son needs you,” she said, pointing him roughly outside the castle’s entrance. Noah didn’t bother to ask for details, simply rushed out of castle, desperate to see Harry alive.

There he was. Brown skin, black hair, taller than Noah by a couple inches now, breathing hard and staring up at the sky. Noah didn’t break stride. “Harry!” he called. Harry, face ashy and dirty and covered in blood and all tear-streaked, turned towards him. “Harry,” he said, enveloping his child in his arms. Alive. Harry was alive. Noah breathed in his scent, one head firmly on his back and the other over the back of his head as Harry fiercely returned his hug, bent down to fold into his dad.

“Uncle Moony is dead,” Harry said, voice muffled.

“I know, little fawn,” Noah said, “I know.” 

When Harry was able to straighten again, Noah asked if he’d been seen by his mom or Sirius. When he said no, Noah managed to convince him to come inside. Bringing his son to the body of his dead uncle felt like torture, but Jamie and Sirius needed to know Harry was alive, and Harry needed to hug them just as much as he’d needed to hug Noah.

.

“Any idea what Harry’s news is?” Sirius asked, in lieu of saying hello.

Noah shook his head. “Come on in, Sirius,” he teased. Harry was now 23. At this age, calling a meeting to talk to his parents couldn’t be that many things. Maybe he was sick with a serious illness or was announcing a surprise engagement to a secret partner or even was here to tell Jamie and Noah and Sirius they were too old to be living by themselves anymore. Though only 44, Noah felt much older than that. Had ever since the end of the war five years ago. Political and social recovery and improvement was a long, slow road.

“I’m betting he lost his temper, lost his job, and wants to move back in with us!” Jamie yelled from the living room.

“Jamie!” Noah admonished. 

Sirius laughed and stepped inside. “Yeah, have some faith in your kid, Leaps! I bet it’s a promotion.”

Noah rolled his eyes as he followed Sirius into the living room. Sirius and Jamie had long since stopped hiding their betting over Harry from Noah. “You’re just saying that because Jamie’s had to do with Harry’s job.”

Sirius shrugged. “So what do you think, then, if you’re so smart?”

Noah shrugged back. “I think Harry has a right to reveal what he wants to talk about himself.”

“No fun,” Jamie teased, sticking her tongue out.

“What’s no fun?” Harry’s head asked, appearing in the fireplace.

“You!” Jamie teased again. “Get in here, already.”

Harry’s laughter was cut short as his head pulled away and he appeared in a flash of green a moment later.

“Ten galleons,” Sirius whispered to Jamie, and they shook hands.

Harry rolled his bright green eyes, looking startlingly like Noah in that moment.

“So what’s the news, kiddo?” Jamie asked. Noah joined her and Sirius on the couch, giving Harry the stage.

He took a deep breath. “Well, mum, dad. I’m… like you. I finally figured out why I’ve felt… different all these years. I’m agender. I don’t really identify with any gender. I feel more like I… don’t have one. I’m also grayromantic. My romantic attraction is both really low and fluctuates. And… I think I might also be bi, but I’m not really positive yet.”

“Oh, Harry!” Jamie jumped up to hug him, planting a big kiss on his cheek as well.

“That’s not quite all. I, well, I kinda like being called your son, and I like the name Harry, but I want to start using they, them pronouns instead of he, him.”

“Of course, Harry!” Noah beamed, coming in to hug Jamie and Harry together.

“Proud of you, squirt,” Sirius said, coming in to hug Noah, Jamie, and Harry all together. “You know, we all know how hard coming out can be.”

“And how hard figuring out how you feel is,” Noah added.

“You know you’re my favorite kid, yeah?” Jamie asked.

Harry laughed, squirming out of the group hug. “Yeah, yeah,” they said. “So did you make lunch? I’m starving?”

Noah laughed as Jamie playfully shook their shoulder. “That’s my son!” she said. “Knows what’s most important. Of course we made lunch.”

Sirius’ stomach growled.

“Sometimes I think you all only show up here for the food,” Noah sniffed. Sirius grinned and threw an arm over his shoulder.

“Nah, the food’s just a bonus. I enjoy the company most of all.”

“Me too,” Harry said as Jamie copied Sirius and threw her arm over Harry’s shoulder.

“Well, I am just here for the food,” she said. “I can’t believe it took you two decades to figure it out.”

They all laughed. Jamie and Noah shared cooking duties, of course. Noah stuck an arm out behind him. Jamie and Harry both grabbed it and gave it a good squeeze.

“Thanks for being so chill about me being agender,” Harry said once they’d all sat down with full plates, “and grayro and possibly bi. Seamus and Dean finally got engaged and told their families. Dean’s family took it pretty well, if a bit stiffly, but I guess there was some name calling in the Finnigan household.”

Sirius, who was sitting closest to Harry, reached over to put a supportive hand on their shoulder. “We’d never treat you like that, our little fawn all grown up.”

“Never,” Noah and Jamie echoed. And they all meant it.

~Hufflepuff Mod

[stranger-who-writes-fiction]

That One Time Kara Visited Charm City

Fandom: Supergirl/Powerless Rating: K+ Summary: What it says on the tin, folks. *points to title* A/N: Ridiculous nonsense, as per usual. Spoilers for Powerless and Supergirl. 

...

Meanwhile, in scenic CHARM CITY...

Van Wayne has a brilliant idea.

“No, really,” Emily says, shortly after Van holsters his finger guns and retreats to his office. “This might actually be a great idea.”

“He stole it from Lex Corp,” Jackie says, taking a languid sip of coffee. (Black and bitter, much like her feelings for this job.) “Oh. Sorry. L-Corp.”

“So pretentious,” Teddy mutters.

“I know. Like knocking off the 'e' and 'x' is going to improve stock prices,” Ron shakes his head.

“Did you guys know that even after it was revealed that Lex Corp was run by a raving megalomaniac, their stock prices were still better than ours?” Wendy says with her patented deranged cheer.

The group sighs.

“So much for morale,” Teddy quips.

“Hey, hey,” Emily grins, making sure to engage in at least three seconds of meaningful eye contact with her team. Only three out of four squirm in discomfort, which is progress. “That's why Van's idea is so great! We'll have a chance to show the world we aren't run by some...crazy billionaire with morally questionable secret agendas! And then we'll have an edge over Lex Corp!”

“L-Corp.”

“Whatever.”

The team doesn't look entirely convinced, but then, they rarely do. They wander back to their respective cubicles, while Emily and Jackie remain close to the elevators; Van's made them agree to meet the reporter. Something about aesthetically pleasing face symmetry and an article he read on BuzzFeed.

“So, do we know anything about this...person?” Emily asks, smoothing her sweater and skirt, in spite of the fact that both are immaculate.

Jackie shrugs.

“Just that it's the same person who did the L-Corp spread. I told you. He literally stole this idea from L-Corp. The entire thing.”

Emily's smile dips at the corners, just for a moment, but it's enough to earn a knowing nod from Jackie. And Jackie looks as though she's about to say more, but the elevator dings, and both turn on reflex.

A tall blonde neither of them recognize enters the bullpen hesitantly, adjusting her glasses and looking around.

“Um,” she says, spotting them, and hurrying over. “Hi. Sorry. I'm—I'm look for a...Stan Wayne? Am I in the right—”

“Van Wayne,” Jackie tells her.

The reporter's forehead sports a confused crinkle. “...What?”

“Hi!” Emily doesn't wait for Jackie's dry follow up, “Emily Locke, SVP of Research and Development.” She sticks out her hand and puts on a winning smile. Which is essentially the same smile she's been sporting all morning, but if asked, she'd argue that this smile has ten percent more 'Go Get 'Em' and at least forty percent more 'Charm City Charm.'

“Kara Danvers,” the reporter says, returning the handshake with a grip that seems...oddly measured. “CatCo Magazine.”

“It's so great to meet you,” Emily gushes. “I love CatCo Magazine. That series you guys did on vigilantism in the age of digital surveillance...inspired.”

“Oh, well, it's so great to meet you,” Kara gushes right back. “That rubble umbrella thing? So great for super battles.” She tugs at the sleeve of her cardigan.

Jackie watches the entire scene unfold with mild horror.

“My God. Two of them.”

Kara raises an eyebrow.

“I—sorry?”

“So!” Emily hurriedly guides the reporter away from Jackie—the object here is to portray Wayne Security in a positive light, and Jackie simply isn't built for a such a task. “You're here to talk to Van, right?”

“Um, yes,” Kara says, squinting once more at a Post-It note that she tucks back into the pocket of her slacks. “Since apparently 'Stan Wayne' is not a thing.”

“It might be a thing,” Emily replies helpfully. “I mean, Charm City's a pretty big place. There's probably a Stan Wayne out there somewhere.”

Kara offers a grateful grin as the two enter Van's office.

And Van...

Van is spinning in his desk chair.

Which...is probably the best that could be hoped for, in light of the fact that it's Van.

“Mr. Wayne,” Emily clears her throat. Van abruptly stops spinning, and Emily's sure she hears Kara suppress a giggle. “The reporter from CatCo Magazine is here.”

Van stares at her blankly.

“...Ah-hmmm.” And Emily can't believe this. He was just talking about this. Not even fifteen minutes ago.

But then again. ...It's Van.

“L-Corp spread!” Jackie yells from the bullpen.

Comprehension dawns at last. “Right! Right, yes, L-Corp reporter.”

“CatCo reporter.”

“Yes. Well! So great to have you here, and I would love to stay but I actually just received a call from my dear cousin, Bruce Wayne—” Van stands behind his desk, and looks pointedly at Kara. “...Are you writing this down?”

“...Um.”

“Bruce Wayne. Capital 'B', little r—”

“I'm pretty sure she'll know how to spell it, Mr. Wayne.”

“We're very close,” Van tells her. “Me and cousin Bruce. Which is why I have to rush off, unfortunately! But I'm sure Emily here can show you around, and if you have any questions—”

“Well, this is an interview,” Kara tells him. She looks over to Emily. “It's...entirely questions.”

“She can handle them!” Van finishes smoothly, ducking out the door. Emily laughs nervously.

“Ah-ha! Would you, um. Excuse me for just...?” She rushes off before Kara can respond, catching Van before he can get in the elevator.

“Van!” she hisses. “What are you doing?!”

“I believe they call it 'fleeing the scene,'” Van says, jabbing the 'up' button several times.

“You can't flee from your own interview!”

“Technically, it's not an interview with me,” Van points out. “It's merely a piece on the company. Ms. Dangers—”

“Danvers.”

“—Was never promised a sit down with yours truly.” Van straightens his jacket. “...Also...Jackie might have...kindly reminded me that I have a tendency to...offend—”

“He means 'piss off,'” Jackie calls from the bullpen.

“—Various news outlets.” He casts a frosty glare in Jackie's direction. “So she...suggested that I fabricate some sort of...cover story, and leave the schmoozing to you.”

Emily doesn't argue with Jackie's very sound logic, but she does have one question.

“Why me?” she asks. Don't companies usually have people for this sort of thing? Last she checked, 'schmoozing' was not in her job description.

“Because you, Emily Locke, are a model employee. The very picture of all that Wayne Security stands for.” Emily's irritation begins to fade, expression softening as she's warmed by the praise.

“Aw, Van—”

“No one else would do it,” Jackie yells.

The warm fuzzy feeling is gone in an instant. Emily can practically hear Ron chiding her. Congrats, you played yourself.

The elevator announces its arrival with its usual 'ding.' Van slides between the doors. “...Okay bye!”

And Emily has no choice but to wander back to the abandoned reporter in a mild daze. This has to be a record—have any of Van's other plans gone this south this fast?

She's somewhat surprised to see Kara standing at Jackie's desk, as opposed to inside the office, where she left her.

“Ah, Emily,” Jackie says, with the same manufactured professionalism Van had used on both her and Kara mere moments ago, “Kara here was just showing me a rather riveting...cat video.”

Her tone screams, 'save me.'

“Is it the one with the lightsabers?” Emily is genuinely curious.

Kara nods enthusiastically. “You've seen it?”

“Uh, of course I've seen it, it's amazing.”

Jackie's lament is just barely audible. “God help us all.”

Once a sufficient number of cat videos are shared, Emily bites the bullet and takes Kara on a brief tour of the main floor. She makes sure to keep the entire affair light and fluffy—this is a puff piece, after all.

Kara seems to pick up on this (really, how could she not, given the altogether unprofessional beginning of this endeavor) and is happy to adjust her questions accordingly.

And, though Emily has been actively trying to avoid the lab, inevitably, they find themselves standing before the reinforced steel doors.

“...And this is the lab...” Emily gestures somewhat weakly towards the yellow and black diagonal bands along the door frame that urge 'caution.'

Kara jots down a note on her pad, and Emily hesitates. Because behind those doors, ready and waiting to cause a PR nightmare, is her team.

And while she's certain they'd be able to offer some valuable insight, maybe even some cute anecdotes, they could also offer some very unflattering information that would get her into all kinds of trouble with Van.

She's debating whether or not to risk exposure to the troublesome trio when the doors slide open and suddenly there's no other option.

Teddy, Ron, and Wendy emerge from of the lab, engaged in a lively debate involving Calendar Man and Cat Woman.

“Okay, but the ratio of puns—” Ron is saying.

“Hold up,” Teddy stops him, throwing out his arm. “You,” he points to Kara. Kara flinches slightly. “I don't recognize you.”

“Is this the reporter?” Wendy asks.

Emily sighs.

“Ye—”

“Hi,” Kara nods in greeting. “I'm Kara.”

The trio rattles off their names, and Emily is already planning a hasty exit, because Ron suddenly, desperately needs Kara's opinion on the acceptable number of puns in regards to a three minute super-battle and—

“Sorry, I don't mean to change the subject, but...” she's looking towards the workbenches in the lab, squinting slightly. “Can I ask what you guys are working on?” Emily notices that Kara's put her notepad in her bag.

Is this off the record?

“Well you can ask us,” Wendy says brusquely. “But we might not answer.”

“You can totally ask us,” Teddy declares with his usual bravado. “Are you familiar with the Anti Joker Venom in sangria—” But Wendy's not finished. She shoves Teddy aside and scrutinizes the much taller reporter.

“What's your angle, blondie?”

Of course. Of course it would be Wendy to go and ruin this, but Kara doesn't so much as bat an eyelash at the woman.

“I just think this stuff is really neat,” she says, with such open sincerity, that the entire group is fairly swooning with sudden affection.

They rarely receive outright praise from Van, and any and all credit seems to always migrate upwards on the food chain.

And here's Kara, eager and engaged, with her head cocked to one side looking for all the world like a curious puppy.

How could they possibly resist?

“Forget the joker venom. That's so last year. What we've got now is ten thousand times better.”

“Um. You did sign the nondisclosure agreement, right?” Emily could kiss Ron...if not for the mountain of sexual harassment violations that would generate. But bless the man all the same for remembering company policy.

“I did,” Kara says. “I promise. Entirely off the record. I just...” she shrugs. “I'm really interested in...keeping the world safe.” she chuckles—almost to herself, really, and adds, “Superheroes...have a tendency to make a mess, you know?”

The trio nods.

“We do!”

They show off the Atlantis tech first. Teddy practically prances and most definitely preens; he's so pleased to have someone other than Ron fawning over his work.

“This is amazing,” Kara says, adjusting her glasses and flipping through the schematics. If anyone notices that she seems to scan the documents a little quicker than the average human, they don't say anything.

“You see those paint chips?” Teddy points to some of the design notes on the side. “My suggestions. “Ultramarine. Perfect for Atlantis, amiright?”

“Is this the frequency you're using for the force-field generating equipment?” Kara asks suddenly.

“Yes?” Wendy says.

“This will interfere with Aquaman's powers,” she says.

“...Huh?”

“It will?”

“How would you even know that?” Teddy demands.

Kara practically jumps back from the drafting table.

“Oh, well, uh—” Emily watches as she fiddles with her glasses—it's becoming more and more apparent that it's a nervous tick. “...I read an article.”

“Pssh!” Teddy flaps a hand. “You read an article.”

“Um, she's right,” Ron pipes up from behind one of the laptops. He flips it around and there, on the screen, is The Daily Planet logo, accompanied by the headline: He Speaks with the Fishes! An Interview with the King of the Sea and, in much smaller letters below: By Clark Kent. “Aquaman uses a very specific frequency to communicate with aquatic lifeforms.”

Teddy and Wendy stare at Kara.

“I told you,” she says. “An article.”

That Kara doesn't seem very enthused by the Kryptonite glass project is presumed to have more to do with the rather boring 'glass' aspect of the project.

Because it's not like it could be the 'Kryptonite' part. Come on.

“So we're trying to get a contract with this company out in Central City,” Teddy's saying. Somehow, they've all ended up in the cafeteria downstairs. Emily's not complaining—the whole visit has gone remarkably well.

“Oh yeah?” Kara takes a bite of her sandwich, making sure to chew and swallow before she continues. “I have a friend out in Central City!”

“Have they ever seen the Flash in action?” Wendy leans forward. Kara coughs.

“Erm. Well.”

“You know...” Now all three of them are leaning forward, dropping their voices conspiratorially. Emily laughs.

“Guys...” she says, but they won't be deterred.

“Ron's pretty sure he knows Flash's true identity.”

Kara takes another bite of her turkey on rye.

“Yeah?”

Ron doesn't bother with a dramatic pause—it's just not his style. “It's Bruce Wayne!”

Kara chokes on her sandwich.

“You'll have to excuse them,” Emily tells Kara, once they've all finished their lunch. “They've got a ton of superhero conspiracy theories.”

“Can you really blame us?” Ron asks.

Kara considers their place of work. “Well, no, I guess not...”

“They thought our co-worker was a superhero. Just because he'd suddenly vanish anytime there was some sort of disaster,” Emily shakes her head, recalling the recent fiasco.

“O-oh, you guys...noticed that?” Kara shifts her weight from foot to foot.

“Of course we did! It was so obvious,” Ron tells her. “In fact, I'm still not entirely convinced he isn't a superhero.”

“Ron, we've been through this,” Wendy says with a long-suffering sigh. “The test results proved he wasn't a superhero.”

“Test results?” Kara pipes up.

“Wendy...” Emily isn't sure how to phrase this, actually. “She applied some...force?”

“She hit him with a chair,” Ron blurts.

“Very scientific,” Teddy says.

Emily's shaking her head as Kara eyes the group of Wayne Security employees with obvious confusion. “...And this...disproved the theory...how?”

“See, if he was a superhero,” Teddy begins.

“He would've broken the chair.” Ron states with a firm nod. Wendy smiles pleasantly.

“But the chair broke him instead.”

“Well what if he was just faking?” Ron challenges. “A superhero would know about the chair rule, and would totally fake an injury to protect their secret identity,” he turns to Kara. “Right?”

Kara throws up her hands. “Pffft, why would I—I certainly wouldn't—” she clears her throat. “A-hrm. I...I wouldn't know. Nope. Not me.”

He gives her an odd look. “...It was...more of a rhetorical question.”

Emily eventually has to put an end to the socializing—she feels bad about it, truly, but there is work to be done, and she's pretty sure Kara could keep these guys talking for hours yet.

“It was so nice to meet you all,” Kara tells them. Ron ducks his head bashfully, while Wendy and Teddy respond with variations of 'I know.'

“And so great to meet you, Kara,” Emily says, flashing an annoyed look at two thirds of her team before smoothing over her frown. “Again, sorry about Mr. Wayne's...sudden...cousin emergency...”

“Oh, no worries,” Kara says, gathering her things. “I...know how that goes, actually.”

“Still, I feel like—”

Emily's response is interrupted by a sudden flurry of beeps. The entire group is startled.

“Um. What's...?” Kara starts to ask. Teddy huffs.

“That's Ron's Jack-O-Lert.”

“...A jack of what now?”

“The Jack-O-Lert!” Emily cries. And again, she could kiss Ron, because she's been so preoccupied with making sure the visit goes off without a hitch, that she hasn't thought to talk about the company's most recent success. “It tracks one of Charm City's most troublesome villains using a very specific odor—”

“Wait—like that thing Batman uses?” Kara asks. “...Did you guys steal this from him?”

“Batman stole it from us!” Ron says.

“We should move away from the windows now,” Teddy says as the beeping grows louder.

“Oh, yeah.” Emily says, and promptly shoves Kara to the floor.

(Which is a lot harder than it looks—the girl is solid. Like a brick wall.)

The windows explode in a spray of broken glass mere seconds later, and the entire office groans.

“Not again.”

“Ow?”

“Someone call Janice.”

“It's just a flesh wound.”

Manic cackling follows shortly thereafter as Jack O’ Lantern streaks across the sky. Emily cautiously peeks over the nearest desk.

“Sorry about this,” she mutters to Kara. “But, hey, it's not a true Charm City visit until you've seen the—”

“She's not here,” Wendy says.

“...What?”

“Said she had a severe pumpkin allergy and took off towards the elevators,” Wendy explains further. Emily glances behind her and, sure enough, the reporter is missing in action.

“...Oh,” Emily frowns. “That's...really weird, actually.”

“And that's insensitive,” Ron lightly reprimands her.

As he says it, a muffled 'boom' sounds from outside the shattered windows. Almost like...a jet, breaking the sound barrier.

“Oh my God,” Ron breathes. He's on his knees, looking over the adjacent desk.  “Oh my God.”

“What, what?!” Teddy scrambles to look past him.

Emily follows his line of sight and gasps.

“Oh my God!”

“It's Supergirl,” the entire office seems to yelp in unison.

An A-List superhero.

In Charm City!

“SOMEONE TAKE A PICTURE!” Teddy shouts.

And Emily smiles fondly, remembering her first day in the city, when an entire train full of commuters couldn't be bothered to even look at the superhero battle outside.

Nice to know there was still some wonder left in the world.

“I can't believe Kara's missing this,” Emily says, fumbling for her own phone. Teddy waves her off.

“Aw, she's from National City, she probably sees Supergirl all the time.”

The heroine in question grabs the super villain and hurls him...up and away from the buildings.

Emily's never seen a superhero do that before.

As he tumbles back down, Supergirl grabs him again and Emily's pretty sure she hears some faint, terrified screaming coming from the man. The duo disappears from sight as Supergirl flies off with the apprehended Jack O’ Lantern, and the office breaks out into riotous applause.

“That was amazing!” Ron says.

“A shame Kara missed it,” Teddy adds.

“Missed what?” Kara asks, a little breathless, fidgeting slightly with her cardigan.

The group regards her with surprise; they hadn't noticed her return.

“Supergirl showed up to take down Jack O’ Lantern,” Ron fills her in. “And stuff like that never happens here.”

“Well, okay, stuff like that actually happens all the time. But! Never with an A-Lister like Supergirl,” Teddy amends. Kara grins.

“Supergirl's an A-Lister?”

“Duh.”

They make sure to share the video with Kara before she leaves, not caring one iota that this is probably small potatoes to a National City resident, such as herself.

She assures them that it's very exciting, really, and she's thrilled to see that Supergirl's popularity isn't limited to one county.

One of the other employees overhears the conversation as they begin sweeping up the broken glass. “Are you kidding?” she interjects. “Supergirl's awesome.”

If anyone notices that Kara's face goes a bit pink at that, they don't say anything.

And then it's time for true goodbyes. Mercifully, these aren't interrupted by any supervillains.

Kara promises the write up will be ready by next month's edition, and Emily promises to get Van to send some sort of apology.

The troublesome trio are devastated to see her go.

“She was so interested in our research...” Teddy says with a wistful air.

“Yeah, that was cool, right?” Emily says.

Jackie wanders over, another cup of black coffee in hand.

“Did Supergirl leave already?”

Emily furrows her brow at the question.

“Yes?” she looks around at the ruined office. “...That was at least twenty minutes ago, Jackie.”

“Not the fight,” Jackie says without missing a beat. “I mean did the reporter leave.”

“Kara?”

“That's what I said.”

“You said Supergirl,” Ron crosses his arms.

Jackie narrows her eyes, and raises her coffee mug to gesture at the four of them. “...Because Kara is Supergirl,” she says. Slowly, of course, like they won't understand, otherwise.

“What?”

“Oh, come on!”

“Don't be ridic—” Emily starts to say, but.

It...is a little...coincidental...that an A-List superhero—who's never visited Charm City before—shows up on the same day as a reporter from National City.

A reporter who was very interested in civilian safety.

And who seemed to know an awful lot about various big-name superheroes.

All four of them are replaying the reporter's visit in their minds, synapses firing and dots being connected.

“Oh...my...God,” Ron breathes.

Jackie snorts.

“Like anyone was fooled by that pair of glasses,” she shakes her head, sipping her coffee and striding away. “That stuff only works in comic books.”