#i just want to take care of animals and be with them
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fancyfeathers · 2 days ago
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Okay so I see a lot of Yandere!Batfam with a darling who is one of the children in the family but what I don’t see is Yandere!Batfam with two darlings, a single mother with a daughter.
Based on this quick post I made (link)
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Like just picture the mother!darling being a rich sweetheart of Bruce Wayne’s at one point, perhaps even being his fiancé bit was the engagement was called off by her because of his work as Batman. She did not want her husband keeping secrets from her, and then imagine if they had a child one day, what sort of life would it be for them?
Well that question certainly comes to life when she finds out she is pregnant just days after leaving Bruce. She has far too much pride to go back to him and scared what life her baby would live with their father being in danger every night. She gives birth and raises her daughter herself, beginning to travel in the world for her work, leaving Gotham just as Bruce takes in Dick Grayson.
Years go by and she raises her own child and Bruce takes in his own children. Of course they hear about each other in the press but really have not paid much mind until she is back in Gotham, attending a charity event at a hotel. Her daughter is up in their hotel room, asleep or so she hopes anyway, and she is sipping on a glass of champagne while making meaningless small talk and then like as if out of a scene from a movie both she and Bruce spot each other from across the room. Conversation between the two is unavoidable especially with Dick trying to push the two together but it is sour quickly with her quietly chewing him out for choosing his vigilante identity over her and-
“Ma’am, your daughter just woke up, a nightmare.”
The conversation is cut short by one of the hotel staff speaking out to her while holding a little girl’s hand who is standing there in her nightgown, eyes full of tears while she clutches her stuffed animal. Bruce just watches as his ex-fiancé takes care of her daughter, his daughter, excusing herself from the party to put her back to bed. Then when the end of the party comes and people have started to leave he finds her again and asks her the question…
“Is she mine? Your daughter…”
“…Yes… she is… I-I am sorry Bruce, I have to go.”
She runs off upstairs and he is just left there starstruck and with his own kids not too far away and listening into their conversation. So when they all arrive back at the manor Bruce is due to give an explanation about the woman who is the mother of Bruce’s daughter, Damian’s half sister, and who might as well be the little sister of the rest of the lot.
So with a bit of planning the kids come up with a way to add a few people into their family, a mother and a little sister…
Dick goes to visit them at the hotel, calling beforehand and asking her to meet husband in the hotel lounge to talk. He tries to convince her to come back, her daughter needs to know who her father and brothers are, and Bruce misses her and she cannot deny that she love Bruce at one point and-
That plan goes up in flames as she runs upstairs, rejecting Dick’s idea.
Then that falls to plan B with Jason.
This wasn’t actually intended to be a plan, just Jason keeping an eye on the little girl from afar to make sure nothing happened to her while she was out with her nanny, after all Gotham is a dangerous place. She and her nanny were just supposed to be out running errands before they leave Gotham but she just happened to be separated from the nanny and alone in the dangerous streets. It is only a matter of time before someone tries to snatch her up, the daughter of a rich woman, she would be perfect to hold for ransom. Luckily Jason, or rather, Red Hood is there in time to save her, telling her to go in the corner and cover her eyes while he deals with them. He hushes her as he wraps her up in his jacket, telling her to keep her eyes shut as he carries her out of there, he doesn’t want her to see the pools of blood he is walking through as he is carrying his little sister out of there.
Then when he returns to Wayne Manor with her, Damian looks after her while Jason explains what happened to Bruce. It isn’t safe for them, she could have been killed or worse if it wasn’t for him. Eventually Bruce caves and agrees to their plan of getting them both back.
Bruce goes to go see his ex-fiancé who is in a state of panic because her daughter is missing. Bruce sits her down and tells her daughter is safe and taken care of at Wayne Manor but there is a problem, her daughter’s kidnapping will be seen as child neglect if Bruce chose to file for custody of his daughter. If that was not enough to get her cave in he shows her a file of blackmail Tim had gathered on her which also shows old not look good to the court, so he asks her one thing with only one answer to it…
“Will you marry me?”
“…fine…”
Then not to far down the line there is a white wedding that should have happened years ago, and as Bruce and his wife exchange rings, say I do, and kiss, their children watch…
Her daughter is not a fool, she knows something wrong, she just has no way of telling anyone as Dick holds her on his hip as if she weighs nothing, and Jason fixes her flower girl dress for the pictures that Tim is already taking and has been throughout the ceremony.
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aewon · 12 hours ago
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ENHYPEN WHEN YOU…put your hands in their back pockets
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pairing ✧ enhypen x f!reader g: fluff warnings: kissing, cussing, pet names, pda, groping, implied shorter reader in sunghoon’s ✧ note: inspired by the no doubt choreo !
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LEE HEESEUNG
you’re sitting in enha’s practice room, watching them practice no doubt’s choreo. their choreographer calls for a break and they immediately disperse. heeseung turns towards you and open his arms, wanting a hug.
who are you to deny him? you make your way to him, wrapping your arms around his waist. he sighs in content, resting his head on your shoulder. you decide to be sneaky and slowly drift your hands downwards until they’re snug in his back pockets. you hear him giggle but he doesn’t pull away, “what are you doing?”
“nothing,” you say, deciding to play with him by squeezing his butt, making him let out a curse.
“shit!”
you laugh as he pulls back, looking at you incredulously.
“you are such a menace,” he says, but he doesn’t hesitate to return the favor, making you squeal.
PARK JONGSEONG
you’re in your shared apartment, laying on the couch while jay lays on top of you. your arms are wrapped around him, holding close to you.
an idea pops into your head, and you put it into action, sliding your hands down into his back pockets.
“why are you touching my ass?” you know he’s not mad, just curious by his tone.
“it’s a nice ass, can’t help but wanna touch it,” you end your words with a firm slap to his ass. jay yelps, looking at you with his annoyed face.
“that’s not nice,” he says, but you can see a hint of a laugh behind his lips.
he wastes no time in getting up and turning you around on the couch, giving your ass the same treatment. except he hits harder, with his large palms making it burn slightly.
“ouch! i didn’t hit yours that hard!”
“don’t hate the player, hate the game.” he continues to smirk while you pout, having been outplayed.
SIM JAEYUN
you and jake are standing in line for ice cream at the park. you’re standing behind him while he mindlessly scrolls through his phone.
you decide to be mischievous and put your hands in his back pockets, the position somewhat awkward but you couldn’t care less.
you can’t see it, but you can practically hear the smirk in his voice as he speaks, “you just love touching me don’t you?”
you hum, not moving your hands even as the line moves forward. you and jake don’t really care about pda or people seeing you in public. of course, you’re not animals, so you don’t take it too far but things like this don’t bother you or him.
“baby, what exactly is the point of this?” he asks, turning his head to look behind himself at you. you shrug, leaning into his back before taking his butt into your hands and squeezing hard. he jumps, almost comically, as you laugh quietly, trying not to bring too much attention to yourselves.
“you are so annoying! you’re gonna bruise it!”
you coo, mocking his whiney tone before rubbing it gently to fend off any oncoming injury. “better?” you ask and he hmphs, turning back around. you kiss his cheek apologetically, which makes him smile.
PARK SUNGHOON
sunghoon is very sensitive about touch. he doesn’t really like pda but he doesn’t dislike touch as long as it’s private.
you and the enhypen members are hanging out in your apartment. jay has chosen to cook to everyone’s delight. sunghoon is standing by the entrance, watching the tv with everyone else who’s situated on the couches.
you come up to him, looking at him with a pout.
“what’s wrong?” he asks, genuinely concerned. you do nothing but hold your arms out, indicating you want a hug. sunghoon hesitates for a second because he doesn’t like pda, even in front of his members, but one look into your eyes and he’s cooked.
he wraps his arms around you, you doing the same, hugging him tightly. he rests his chin on your head and sighs softly. he could never deny you. without him realizing, your sneaky hands make their way down, down into his back jean pockets.
sunghoon doesn’t even move, either he’s oblivious or he’s ignoring it for your sake, and his. what he doesn’t expect is for you to take his butt into your hands and squeeze, hard.
he jerks forward, taking you by the arms and pulling you away from him. he looks a mix between stunned and annoyed. you start to giggle, making grabby hands at him like you’re gonna do it again but he grabs them, now smiling.
“don’t even think about it, what’s wrong with you?” he asks quietly, not trying to alert the members.
you just stare up at him before surprising him again with a kiss to his lips.
“aww look at the happy couple, i got that whole thing on video by the way,” riki says from his seat on the couch. the other members begin to crowd him, even jay coming from the kitchen after hearing the commotion.
sunghoon breaks away from you, running over to try and wrestle the phone from riki’s hands while you laugh and watch.
KIM SUNOO
you and sunoo are very affectionate with one another, never hesitating to plant kisses on each others lips or cheeks, hug or anything else.
he’s standing in front of your full length mirror, getting ready to go out while you wait for him. as you come to stand behind him, you put your hands into his back pockets. he looks at you through the glass and smiles.
“whatcha doin?” he asks, though he doesn’t make any move to stop you.
“touching my favorite part of you,” you say, laughing as he gaps in offense.
“tuh, and here and i thought it was my personality!”
“that and your ass, i love it.” with that you take your hands out and give his ass a rough slap.
he swears, looking at you with wide eyes.
“okay, you’re done. no more ass privileges for you,” he says, dragging you around so you’re standing in front of him instead of behind.
you begin to whine, apologizing and saying you won’t do it again.
“that’s a damn lie and you know it.”
YANG JUNGWON
jungwon has brought you along to the recording studio while they prepare for their next album. you’re standing in front of him, his arm wrapped around you. you turn around in his arms, smiling at him, “you sound great babe.”
“thank you,” he says, bringing you in for a hug.
you hands rub his back up and down, before making their way lower and lower until they’re hovering over his ass. without warning you put your hands into his back pockets, and squeeze almost violently.
he jumps away from you, looking at you in pure shock. “what the fuck!” he says, laughing, “don’t touch my butt!”
“why?” you cock your head to the side, “i can’t touch what’s mine?” you ask in a questioning tone. he looks at you in disbelief.
“excuse me, it’s not yours.”
“yes it is, what’s yours is mine,” you say, smiling at him.
“oh really?” he raises an eyebrow, “so if that’s the case, what’s yours is mine?” you think he’s gonna go for your ass and bring your hands around to protect it but without hesitation his hands go for your front, squeezing your chest.
you gasp scandalously, “jungwon!”
he just smirks at you, “what’s yours is mine.”
NISHIMURA RIKI
you and riki have been dating for a few months now but haven’t really escalated to touching each other frequently. whether it comes to kisses or hugs, you’re still a bit awkward with one another.
you’ve decided to take your relationship up a notch in hopes he won’t oppose you.
today finds you with riki, alone in the dance studio as he practices their choreo. you watch him in amazement. how his body moves, its miraculous and you’re mesmerized.
he pauses the music, coming to stand in front of you, “so what do you think?”
“i think it’s amazing, you’re amazing,” you say.
you know riki likes compliments, he just doesn’t like to show it. he waves his hand, like it’s no big deal but you stand up and open your arms, “hug.”
“i’m sweaty,” he says, “you don’t wanna hug me.”
you shake your head, “don’t care, hug me!”
he can’t deny you, so he moves forward to wrap you in his arms. you rest your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. your hands make their way down, before finding comfort in his back pockets.
“oh?” he says in a questioning voice, “didn’t know we were at this point in our relationship.”
“can’t help it, i like being close to you.”
“and being close means touching my butt?” you know he’s not annoyed or angry because he’s laughing, so you hum in confirmation. without warning his own hands slide down to cup your own butt.
“now we’re even,” he says, grunting and laughing as you playfully squeeze his ass. and he doesn’t hesitate to do it back.
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© AEWON 2024
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novvabee · 3 days ago
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Hi,
Could you do a romantic poly!marauder (without peter) x reader where they are in a established relationship and maybe James (I just imagine it coming for him) having baby fever and dropping hint at it to make the others want to a start a family ?
omg! I totally can see James wanting a family like straight away, but the others are kind of hesitant. Hope this fits your vision ❤️
Oh baby, baby fever
summary: james wants a baby
cw: suggestive? talk about starting a family
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James had been more needy and cuddly in the past couple of days. He was holding you closer, tighter to his chest in the mornings, being incredibly sweet. And this is James we’re talking about. He normally treated you like royalty, but he had somehow stepped it up after spending the day at work with you.
You had been a nanny for a family for about a year now, and you were loving the job. The family was so kind and generous, and they often felt like an extension of your own family. The children were no different. They were the sweetest kids with the most patience and understanding that you had ever seen in a child. There was a boy, Liam, who was 5, and a little girl named Ruth, 4. They were the reason you loved your job, getting to see them and care for them was the best job you could have ever asked for.
Two days ago, you had planned a trip to the zoo for the two, and were so excited to spend the whole day with them. James, who had the day off, offered to come with. He argued that it would be better to have two adult sets of eyes to watch over the children, safer, and you agreed. You didn’t know how the children would take it at first, him being a stranger, but just like everyone else seemed to, they took to him instantly.
Liam was so happy to have a boy to rough around with (though james was about 3 and a half feet teller and much, much stronger) and Ruth seemed to develop a bit of a crush, having James tie her pink sparkly shoes, hold his hand to cross the street, listen to her jokes and animal facts she had learned, and hold her favorite stuffed animal when she got tired of holding it herself.
James never once complained. He played and laughed with the kids, he carried both, one in each arm, whenever they asked, he bought them each a toy from the gift shop with his own money when they asked. He was doing amazing.
There was a different side to James that you saw. You were used to the kindness and warmth of him, but this was different. He was so gentle with them, it came so easy to him. You noted the moments he would get down to their level to hear them properly, to make sure they felt heard even though they were mostly talking nonsense or silly kid things. He lifted them up to see the animals without them having to ask, he just knew they wouldn’t be about to see over the fence. He made sure they had water and snacks whenever they wanted them.
It took a lot of pressure and stress off of you, put some ideas into your head… you thought that he would make a great dad.
And it seems, James had the same thoughts. The next day he dropped his first hint. All four of you and your boys were lounging about on the couch and watching movies. The day was quite glum out and you all wanted to curl up and use each other for warmth. You were curled into Remus’s side, James laying on you, his head on your chest and body between your legs, Sirius’s head in Remus’s lap. You were a big puddle of happiness. While watching a particularly boring part of the movie, James began running his hands along your sides, under your shirt. You didn’t mind, his hands were always so warm and soft. It gave you goosebumps in the best way. He moved his hands from your sides to your stomach, right under your belly button. He was dragging his fingers along your bare skin before looking at your stomach and kissing it. He laid his head back down and watched the move like nothing, continuing to rub your sides, but you knew what he was after. You knew what he was thinking and why. 
The next hint was dropped while you were all in the kitchen. Remus finishing cooking dinner for you, and the three of you waiting patiently at the table. You had somehow stumbled into the conversation of which teachers you had crushes on when you were younger. 
“Oh come on, Minnie had that authoritative thing going for her.” Sirius confidently announced over the noise of the kitchen.
“McGonagall? Sirius, what is wrong with you?” Remus looked over from the stove, baffled. You giggled and went to stick up for Sirius.
“I don't know,” you joked “She had sort of a milf vibe don't you think?”
The boys all laughed. James replied with a smirk from across the table“You’d know all about that Y/N, wouldn’t you?”
You tilted your head at him and furrowed your brows but chuckled “What do you mean Jamesie?”
“I just mean,” he starts, Remus serving you and Sirius both plates, “It takes one to know one.”
You all started laughing heartily at his comment.
“James mate, I think she’s lacking the main component for that.” Sirius teased.
“What do you mean?” James asked.
“She's not a mother.” 
“She could be,” James said slyly, a smirk cutting across his face.
“Woah woah” Remus said at the same time Sirius laughed a “What are you planning Potter?” you just laughed, you knew exactly what he was getting at. You were letting him have his fun before the seriousness sets in, before that very real, very important discussion happens. 
The next hint was dropped during game night. You had all decided to play a few games like Overcooked and Mario Party. It was quite a fun night full of swearing and playful anger. It was a good outlet to yell at each other without it being serious or mean in any way. A great way to let out all of your competitive energy. You were playing a round of Mario Party and losing, bad. Every mini game the boys seemed to team up on you. “Fuck me!” you let out.
James took this as his sign to slide in behind you and wrap his arms around you “You know that can be arranged, love.” he drawled, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. 
Remus and Sirius shared a look. “What’s gotten into him?” Sirius asked.
“He wants to have a baby.” you explained. You weren’t sure how the other boys hadn’t picked up on it. It wasn’t exactly something that  you had all talked about yet, you just liked being together, the four of you, having fun and sharing a life with each other. You weren't sure about… a baby. 
The whole room turned attention to James, who seemed to have turned shy. “I just-,” he started, “I think that… Y/N would make a wonderful mother, and I think I would be a pretty good dad? And I love children, I want one. I’m not saying, I mean, I-I don’t know…” He finished, unconfident and a little deterred.
You sighed, sitting up and readjusting to sit in his lap, facing him. “Jamie baby,” You said, taking his face in your hands, “look, you would be an amazing dad, the best dad in the world. But honey, I don’t think we are all ready for that right now.” you looked over to Sirius and Remus for agreement, they nodded and encouraged you to keep going. “James, we’re still really young. And I know you had a lot of fun with the kids I nanny, but that is different. Those are someone else's kids. Kids that we can have fun with and do fun things with them and then send them on their way back home where they scream and cry and throw tantrums. They aren’t always so perfect. And you’ve never had to change their diapers or deal with them when they're sick and when they are inconsolable. It was fun, but there is a whole other side to parenting, a hard and serious one.” Sirius opened his mouth to make a comment at that but Remus nudged him in the ribs and shook his head. “So baby, I am not saying no. But I am saying not right now. Is that understandable?” you asked.
James looked at you and nodded, you could tell he knew it wasn't the right time, but deep down that is something he wants. You kissed his cheek to try and cheer him up a bit, you know he would need a little bit to be sad, but that he would inevitably come around.
Remus, noticing that James was still upset, came up with a proposition. “How about we work our way up? We start small and then see where we are after. What if we get a cat or a dog?” He suggests.
Sirius squinted his eyes and said “How about a plant?”
James chuckled, the sound making your heart feel less heavy. “I would like a cat…”
“Damnit” Sirius said under his breath.
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clini-calia · 3 days ago
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It's tough. It is.
I'm a 30-year-old transgender man. From ages 16 to 23-ish, I was stuck in the alt-right pipeline, as well. I watched all that stupid bullshit with "feminists getting owned!!!1!" and what the fuck ever else. I think what pushed me towards it was how people on Tumblr used to be upset over EVERYTHING and would belittle me for my masculinity. I remember seeing a post that had a gif of a scene from some anime, I dunno which one, and it was of a naked girl laying down. People were complaining about her breasts not being realistic - it wasn't the size, it was that they weren't sagging or drooping, and that men need to be portrayed with rock hard dicks that never soften or whatever. But I was just sitting there thinking, "She's laying down... lol. Gravity is literally pushing her breasts against her chest, not pulling them down."
Anyway. Posts like that, but they got worse. I've had a lot of people on the left question my gender. "Why would you want to be a man? Women are the better choice." "I don't know why you'd want to do that, why give up your femininity?" I got into a small argument with a woman once on it, basically saying that it felt like trans men weren't really counted much and were largely ignored in the trans community, along with non binary people, who are usually just treated as "Women Lite." She got so angry that she told me, "You probably just wanna be a guy because you're too ugly to get one for yourself."
That's what tipped me over to the right for a bit. Until I realized they cared even less about me and that if given the chance, well. What happened on November 5th would happen, and they'd look for any excuse to strip me of my rights.
For cis, straight, white men it's not so easy to get out of. They're welcomed with open arms, there's no looming threat of having their rights taken away. So the pull of some "brotherhood" is more enticing. I was groomed and sexually assaulted by a man, but I was also sexually assaulted and groomed by a woman. I'll always believe that, no matter what, humans are just humans. White, black, gay, straight, trans, cis, man, woman - humans. And humans can be good, and they can also fucking suck. So I'll never say "all men are trash" or "all women are garbage" or anything like it ever again.
I see men's issues with mental health. I wish they would understand that it's the patriarchy that ultimately fuels those issues, and I wish some women would see how they also contribute to it. I see a lot of younger women these days placing men's entire values on their income, their careers, their appearances, what they can buy for them... I've seen a tweet of dudes just chilling and playing video games, showing off Pokemon cards or some shit and a woman quote retweeted it and said, "Men used to fight in wars. 🙄" Yeah. That'll stop toxic masculinity - tell men they're not real men unless they go to war and give up what makes them happy. Nice...
The patriarchy hurts women by enforcing the idea that they are to submit to men's wishes, stay at home, clean, cook, have babies. That's all women are allowed to experience.
The patriarchy hurts men by enforcing the idea that they are to overwork themselves, abandon any non traditional masculine interests and basic human emotions in favor of that work, and go to fight and possibly die in wars.
These ideals were put into place as soon as different tribes, races, countries and so on realized that, "Oh. There's OTHER types of people, and I want to be the most powerful and rich so they don't take what I have. Hmm. Better make sure women can only spit out plenty of babies and that plenty of those babies are men to be my soldiers and workforce."
If you're a man that supports any of those ideas, fuck you. If you're a woman that supports any of those ideas, fuck you, too. I'm sick and tired of generalizing people. I'm sick and tired of having to give up pieces of ourselves in order to put more money in billionaire's pockets. I'm sick and tired of men being told they're "too feminine" to be a man over being into stuff like sewing, baking, dolls, fashion, cozy games and I'm tired of seeing women being told they're "too masculine" to be a woman for being into coding, mechanical work, FPS games, science and I'm tired of seeing non binary people being told they're too much of one or the other to be non binary.
I'm tired of seeing men put down other men for having a fucking emotion other than anger or goddamn numbness. I'm tired of seeing women put down other women for being more attractive or not attractive enough. Just... stupid, petty bullshit that should have been over and done with decades ago, why the fuck are we STILL here?
It's tough. Because I love men and care deeply about men. But I also don't think we need to baby them and pat them on the back and say, "It's OK that you joined a fascist group of people that openly and proudly call themselves Nazis." And if a man ever tells me or any woman or AFAB person that it's "your body, my choice," I will grab the nearest blunt object I can get my hands on and beat the snot, shit, and blood out of them.
But I do think we need to work harder at not alienating our CIS, straight, white, male allies. We need to stop generalizing everybody and correct our language when talking about people. And we especially need to make it clear that the alt-right only seeks to divide for their own benefit, not for anyone else's. It's money and power that they want. Men, unless you are wealthy, you are just a vote and a pawn to them, nothing else. We need Democrats in the USA to stop rolling over and blowing kisses to Republicans in the hopes that they'll play nice and cut us some slack. It's not going to happen, not in meaningful numbers. And we NEED to crack down harder on alt-right online spaces. I don't give a fuck no more, get rid of that shit, I don't care if it's seen as too extreme or censorship, if you give these dangerous people a place to commune and feel safe with their harmful ideologies, then it WILL spill over into other spaces. And parents of young children: you need to BE BETTER at monitoring what your kids are seeing and doing online. Take it from someone who no-lifes online games: they are going into these spaces and saying heinous, horrible shit. They are being groomed, they are saying slurs and sexually harassing women, they are even seeking sexual attention and guidance from adults and strangers, and some of those adults are sick enough to take them up on their offers. One little trip into a few public instances of games like VRChat will be all the proof you need. I love the Internet, I really do, but I also see how its anonymity has done harm to us and has severely damaged how young people interact with each other, online and offline.
Anyway, sorry that was so long. I've been pissed the fuck off since I saw that Trump "won" the election and this shit has been on my mind for years, just even more so now.
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I couldn't have said it better myself.
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ofpd · 2 days ago
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1st century roman siege of jerusalem dashboard simulator
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🐮 barkamtza
why does this shit always happen to me
#oh my goddd the ONE time it seems like people actually wanna hang out with me. #turns out they meant to invite kamtza instead #everyone hates me and i was SO fucking nice i offered to pay for the party #god i'm so pathetic. kms kms kms #they're gonna pay for this i swear #delete later
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📜 zekharya-ben-avkolas
Ok so obv it's not ok to sacrifice a blemished calf but the blemish is just on the eyelid? So maybe it's ok? But also and i don't want people to start going around thinking that it's ok to sacrifice blemished animals. But the thing is that if i don't bar Kamtza will tell the Romans we insulted them and that will be bad probably. And like no one likes bar Kamtza anyway will people really miss him..... but ugh neither of these seem like good things to do i don't feel like it's my place to make a decision about this :/
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🏛 vespasian reblogged
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🏺neronero
off to war wish me luck! 🇲🇪🏹
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🏺neronero
nvm guys. ✡️✡️
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🏛 vespasian
my turn lol
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🧑🏽‍🦳 not-an-airport reblogged
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🧑🏽‍🦳 not-an-airport
Hey everyone! These are difficult times, and some friends and I have put together some mutual aid resources for our community to have access to wheat, barley, wine, salt, oil, and wood! More info below the cut. Take care of yourselves! 🫶
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🧑🏽‍🦳 not-an-airport
fuck
7,235 notes
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⚔️ biryonei-yerushalayim
anonymous asked:
Hey, I'm trying to ask this in good faith, and I hope you can take it that way. how can you possibly defend burning our grain stores. I understand that you want to radicalize more people but you're taking things too far. Jerusalem's blood is on your hands.
anon, what you need to understand is that the blame for the carnage in jerusalem lies primarily in the hands of the roman invaders and secondarily in the hands of the rabbis for refusing to resist. would you have told the hashmonaim not to resist their oppressors by any means necessary? just because this is getting inconvenient for you doesn't mean we shouldn't be doing it. it's frankly offensive that you'd imply that we, the defenders of jerusalem, should incur any blame for her current state.
#biryonim.answer #grain storage discourse
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🛡 goel-yisrael
did anyone else see the "zealot blocklist" going around lmaooo
#how do these liberals expect anyone to take them seriously #do they not have anything better to do.
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📚 stammaim reblogged
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stopbeingpoor-deactivated3830102
ughh why is my servant so incompetent! i deserve the best flour why doesn't he get it...
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stopbeingpoor
ykw i'll go get some myself. i'm desperate at this point i gotta do something
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stopbeingpoor
EWWWW update: i stepped in something NASTY. this is why i don't fucking go out oh my god im gonna die
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stopbeingpoor
gonna throw my gold & silver away for the good of the peasants or whatever it's not like it's any use to me when im literally dying -_-
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📚 stammaim
lmao look at this it's exactly what yehezkel was talking about! ur gold won't save you!
#yehezkel #marta b. baitos
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🕎 yalla-hapoel
🌿 amicus-iudaeorum asked:
Hey, love your posts! They're very informative about the Jewish perspective on this war. I'm just wondering whether you condemn the actions of the zealots? I don't really feel comfortable following someone who supports that.
are you fr.
#if youre seriously concerned about this idt this is the blog for you i fear
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🛡 goel-yisrael reblogged
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📖 ben-zakkai
⚰️⚰️⚰️⚰️ lol
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🛡 goel-yisrael
? what does this mean
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🗡 abbasikkara
dw about it bestie
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🛡 goel-yisrael
ok 💗 yay 💗
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👩🏽‍🌾 discoursedumpblog
I've compiled a list of some of the most rabid zealots on this website. Remember, don't engage, just block and move on.
Read more
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🏛 vespasian reblogged
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🏛 vespasian
some jew got an audience with me & called me king (im literally not lol thats so disrespectful to the actual king + if i was king then he shouldve met w me much earlier??), i think i should kill him
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🏛 vespasian
AND my shoe is being so annoying. horrible day 👎
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📖 ben-zakkai
omg just came across this old post
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🏛 vespasian
OMG sorry i don't mean it anymore 🙏
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🫒 a-simple-yid
yirmiyahu tzadak...
#not to pretentiously quote tanakh but literally like. #hashiveinu hashem eilekha venashuva hadeish yameinu kekedem.
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gremlinmodetweeker · 3 days ago
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Seeing all this stuff on Cat König and Horangi being complete assholes just makes me wonder how they’d act if they saw their caretaker just..genuinely upset..like when they’d usually be yelling at König for eating all the food or at Horangi for being a little destructive goblin their just nowhere to be found, and of course they get confused because come on..the person who’s always yelling just goes silent out of nowhere? So when they look for them they find them just in their bed, completely covered up, not moving, and that just makes me wonder how they’d react, would König go for the sit on them till they suffocate and have to move..Horangi with the constant baps..or would they actually try to give them little head buts or just lay by them? I don’t know it just seems like an interesting scenario to me ever since I kept seeing all this stuff on this topic.
I think Horangi would be the first to notice, but König would be the first to actually check on the reader. Not that Horangi doesn't care, it's just when he notices what's going on he feels so bad that he doesn't know what to do. When König notices, he makes a plan.
König would be eerily silent. Normally he's so anxious that he always has his claws out, making little tippy taps as he scurries about. For this one moment, he's calm and prepared.
He ever so gently lays down beside you as close as he can to you. Maybe he might lay on you if he thinks that would be good for you, but I see him more as the type to lay down by your side and lay his chin on his paws. He'll swish his tail over top of you and press in close.
It takes a second for you to notice. At first, you're too miserable to move, but you remember your therapist told you to pet animals when you're distressed, so you figure you might as well.
As soon as you start petting König he lets out the most glorious purr. For a cat with such pathetic crackly mews, the purr he lets out is so deep and rich you'd think he was replaced by a fake. He rolls into you and burrows into your arms. He tries to rub his face against yours and tries to pull you in close to his side.
As soon as Horangi notices that König hasn't been punted to the other side of the room, and rather that König's actually helping, he's in on it too.
He comes up to your other side and curls around you too. He's purring too, bright and comfortable. He's a bit more playful and energetic in his affections. He's rolling over to let you scratch his belly, but then he grabs you with soft paws and licks your hand. He's a giant sweetheart about it all. Unlike König, who's all snugggles, Horangi likes to lick your fingers, hands, your face if he can get close enough.
If König isn't there to give Horangi the ques, it takes him a bit longer to figure out that he needs to get out of his own head and help out. He's scared to reach out. You can't blame him. I know you might want to, but he's scared to make it worse.
He can't leave you to suffer forever though. It isn't that long before he's trepiditiously padding over to your side. He sits by your head and just watches nervously for a moment. He hesitates, but he does do the little nervous batting. He tries to get your attention as carefully as he can.
When you turn over, his heart breaks. If König were here, he'd know what to do. Horangi tries his best to figure out what he can do.
Soon, he's pulling a König move, something Horangi never does. Horangi's an independent cat. He doesn't like being picked up, he doesn't like being held. You can hold König upside down, but Horangi doesn't really like to be touched too often.
When you're sad and broken, he pushes all his pride aside and crawls up to sit on you. He's not a crushing weight like König, he's just a warm little blanket. He sits on top of you and he purrs.
It doesn't make everything go away, but feeling Horangi reach out to you first, it melts your heart. You can't help but smile when you reach up a hand and Horangi shoves his face into your palm. He's desperate to see you smile just a little bit more.
Both cat hybrids genuinely care about you. They can be menaces, but they're good men. They love their owner (König a bit more possessively than Horangi) and both of them want to see their owner happy. They'll do what they can to make you smile when you're feeling down, no matter what.
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tenebrius-excellium · 3 days ago
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This. Hiccup is so single-minded and so ...based?, if I'm using that word correctly. He cares about a great many things, but he always knows how to put them into perspective. There are just these moments where, when he is inspired, he knows exactly where to go and what it's going to take to get there. He doesn't get side-tracked by Astrid much (despite liking her!), he doesn't get side-tracked by sudden fame (because he realizes it's acceptance he wants), he doesn't let himself get side-tracked by Gobber's clumsy, unhelpful remarks about his person, nor by Snotlout's bullying. It's his father that he tiptoes around, and it's Toothless who has his attention. While Hiccup's character definitely has its own weaknesses, he is very 'incorruptible' to the successes in life that other animated characters are often prone to fall for. And so he also does not let Toothless get away with misbehaving, even though the dragon is trying to get back at his bullies for him. And so he also does not cower before his father when the dreaded moment of disappointment comes, instead he stands up to him and confronts him with what he knows is good. In the face of fear, Hiccup is brave. Because he is selfless, and he found someone and something bigger than all of them, that is worth fighting for. That kid knows where he's going because it's the right thing to do, even if he hasn't got it all figured out and needs help on occasion himself (Astrid's speech.) I love him.
Why I love how the first movie dealt with Hiccstrid
Early on in the first movie, it becomes clear that Hiccup has feelings for Astrid, although he never directly says so. His actions and the way he looks at her speaks for itself.
Hiccup also says that he hopes that by hunting dragons, he might find himself a girlfriend, but he never specifies that it is Astrid he’s interested in.
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Still, Hiccup's crush on Astrid is not the main focus of the story, in fact, romance is brought up very little. While he attempts to impress her and the others during training and flirts with her once, he never becomes blinded by his feelings for her, not even after their romantic flight which leads to his feelings for her being requited.
He doesn’t do this
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This
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Or even this
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To impress her.
Even though Hiccup initially had a crush on Astrid and later developed deep feelings for her, his motivation to become a hero was never driven by his feelings for her, and that’s not something you can say about all protagonist in movies.
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aristaspark · 2 days ago
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Another JWCT season 2 Kenlynn analysis because I'm obsessed and I don't know if the writers are geniuses, or if I'm getting worked up over a whole lot of nothing 😂.
So, bear with me.
Kenji's arc in season 2 is clear from the first episode: he's throwing himself at danger because of the losses he's suffered. He's broken.
But in all that sadness, he has one last glimmer of hope: Bumpy's egg.
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He's the one the most attached to it, even more so than Ben. After all these losses, it's the first sign of something good happening in his life. It's the contrary of death, a birth, "someone" new he can love.
During the entire season he's the most concerned with the egg, obsessed with getting it back, almost dying for it (more on that later).
Now flashfoward to episode 8: he discovers that Brooklynn is alive.
When he finds out, he's confused, hurt, mad, shook to his core (but props to the animators, for a split second...you can see that he is just... so happy).
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"She's alive?"
But the hurt and feeling of betrayal is too hard for him to grasp, so he pushes all his feelings away. He knows it's not the time.
And what does he do in order to push away his feelings about Brooklynn?
He focuses on the egg, as we established the only thing in his life which isn't tarnished or hurtful. And he desperately needs it right now, now that his whole world is crumbling down even more. This shift in his priorities is shown when he says this:
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"The eggs... Brooklynn took Bumpy's egg..."
At this point, Kenji's motivations are still unclear, but this line suggests that his main goal, the thing the most important to him at this moment is the same as it was at the beggining of the season, aka getting Bumpy's egg back... not getting to Brooklynn.
So when he goes berserk, driving like a madman, running as if his life depended on it to get to Brooklynn, of course we have the feeling that he wants to see her, but he's also running to achieve his objective, which has always been to take care of Bumpy's egg, and it just so happens that Brooklynn is the one obstacle to his goal.
We can see he's desperate, but it's left to interpretation as to exactly why.
Until he finally catches up to Brooklynn.
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It's Brooklynn's hand he grabbs, not the case. The thing he wanted the most is in his direct reach, yet he grabbs her hand. In this moment, he completely forgets about the egg, not even sparing it a glance, not mentionning it even once.
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"Brooklynn..."
All that matters to him is that the girl he loves is there, in front of him, which he thought would never happen again.
We finally have the confirmation that the reason he was so eager to run to that airport wasn't to get the egg back, but to see her. And not to get mad at her, no, just to... get her back.
And then, Brooklynn leaves.
She leaves them, but she leaves him. It's him she looks at the last, his grasp she frees herself from, him who utters her name afterward.
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They're still at the center of the scene, and the scene is a direct call back to the break-up scene (also... their colors are matching, it's like not even a little subtle, which tells me there's a reason Brooklynn wore a dark blue shirt the entire season...which is SO NOT her color).
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Notice how even there, it's Ben who remembers to ask Brooklynn to give them the egg.
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"Wait! Bumpy's egg... it's in that case..."
It's SO FAR from being something Kenji can focus on right now, now that Brooklynn is in front of him.
We then find out that before boarding the plane, Brooklynn has given Kenji the egg. Not Ben (who was the one who asked for it), not Darius, but Kenji.
...And Kenji looks the most heart-broken he has ever looked.
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He has just gotten his hands on what he thought he wanted the most, his ultimate goal this season, the very thing he threw himself into fire for, into an ocean beaten by the storm... and yet he's not even looking at it, his eyes instead watching the plane take off with Brooklynn inside.
He's gotten what he thought he wanted, but at what price?
It's not to diminish his link to Bumpy's egg. As I've shown, he risked his life countless times for it. But it just goes to show just how much Brooklynn matters to him. In that last scene, it's made clear that the thing he wanted the most, was for her to come back to them, to him. But she didn't, and gave him the egg to make up for it, as some sort of consolation price.
But it's not, and it will never be.
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fyoxi · 9 hours ago
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୨ৎ 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓲𝓷𝓽𝓲𝓶𝓪𝓬𝔂 𝓸𝓯 𝓫𝓮𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓾𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓼𝓽𝓸𝓸𝓭 . . . ft. boothill
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boothill x f! reader. established relationship (but still new). nonsexual intimacy. petnames.
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boothill visits you a lot, knocking on the door to your apartment at least two or three times a week. sometimes he stays a few hours, sometimes he stays the night. it just depends really. but he always comes. and he always comes with a gift, a little stuffed animal, or a single flower he picked on his walk to your place. but it's always something. he made you smile, and that's all he wanted.
he had come to your apartment later in the evening this time. not being able to make it until well after sundown. he was honestly surprised when you opened the door for him, he had expected you to be in bed by now. but your door opened, and there you were, standing in the doorway, the light from the entryway behind you made you look like some kind of angel to him.
"well, hello there, pretty girl," he said. he couldn't help the silly grin across his face. "i got this for you" he held out a single premature dandelion.
"thank you," you smiled back at him, taking the bright yellow flower from his hand, and stepping to the side to let him in.
once the door closed behind him, and he hung his hat on the coat rack on the wall. he reached out to you, fingers curling around your hips to pull your body to him. "i missed you" he mumbled into your hair, before resting his chin on the top of your head.
"i missed you too—" your response was cut short by an absolutely awful smell. you took a breath in through your nose, trying to locate where the smell was coming from. "oh, goodness boothill ! when was the last time you washed your hair ?!"
boothill looked down at you, his brow raised, he seemed confused. "i dunno" he shrugged, "how often am i supposed to ?"
"more than you have been, clearly !" you exclaimed
"is it really that bad ?" boothill asked. he seemed genuinely confused. like he didn't smell the near nauseating scent coming off his hair.
you nodded your head, "come here" you said with a little sigh, walking into the kitchen, dragging a chair from the dining room table up to the sink. "take your jacket off and sit down here" you said, it came out more like an order than you intended it to. but boothill didn't seem to mind, he kicked his boots off, leaving them by the front door, he knew you didn't like outside shoes on your carpet, and shrugged his jacket off, hanging it up on the coat rack with his hat.
he followed you into your kitchen, sitting himself down on the dining chair you brought over to the sink. he watched from the spot as you put the flower he got you between the pages of a heavy cookbook, pressing it down like you did all the flowers he got you. you left the room for a second, and returned with a towel over your arm, and a bottle of shampoo and conditioner in your hands.
"what's that for ?" he asked, nodding to the toiletries in your hand
"you" you answered, setting them down next to the sink, "i'm gonna wash your hair"
boothill's brow raised, just for a second before he shrugged his shoulders "alright" he said "just be careful with it, took a lot of work to grow all this out. and don't get any soap in my eyes"
"i'll do my best" you reassured him with a little chuckle, wrapping the towel around his shoulders, securing it with a hair tie.
boothill watched your hands as you tied the towel in place, it was made of a fuzzy cotton material, warm and soft against the back of his neck. "so, what do you want me to do ?" he asked
"just lean back, relax. i got it" you tilted his head back, he had to slouch in the chair quite a bit for his head to be where you needed it, but it wasn't too uncomfortable. it wasn't like his body could get sore.
you gathered all of his hair, and pulled it over the edge of the kitchen sink, the black and white strands pooling against the stainless steel. you turned the water on, waiting for it to get to a comfortable warmth before using the attachment next to the faucet to spray his hair.
using your free hand to undo any tangles, you made sure every strand of his head was thoroughly soaked before setting the attachment back in its place, and reaching for the shampoo. "the only shampoo i have here is mine" you said, squeezing a generous amount directly onto his scalp "so you're gonna smell like me"
"that's okay," boothill hummed, "you smell good" his eyes were closed, his shoulders were back, his breath slow and heavy, a subtle smile etched on his lips.
you nodded, smiling down at him. "alright" you said softly. you used both hands to rub the soap into his hair, pads of your fingers gently massaging it into his scalp, making careful work to coat every inch of it in the sweet smelling suds. boothill's head twitched, a little laugh escaping him as you moved to scrub behind his ears. you pulled your hands away, "are you okay ?" you asked
boothill nodded "perfect, darlin'," he answered "just tickled"
you nodded again, going back to your work. boothill's mouth was shut tightly, pressing his lips together hard to keep from laughing as your fingers scrubbed behind his ears.
once his scalp was fully coated and scrubbed, you ran your fingers down the length of his hair, coating it too with the soap, until the entirety of his hair was covered in a thick lather. "i'm gonna rinse it out now," you told him, receiving only a tiny, slow nod in response.
you put your hand on his forehead, holding it up like a mini wall to keep the soapy water from his eyes as you used the sink's spray attachment once again to rinse the soap out of his hair. you were extra attentive, making sure you got every last bit of the soap out of his hair, as leaving any behind would make this whole process pointless.
boothill was completely sill, his face and body were relaxed, legs spread, his feet flat on the ground. he wasn't bouncing his leg, or tapping his fingers on his thigh. which is usually what he'd be doing anytime he had to sit still for anything.
when the soap was rinsed from his hair, you grabbed the bottle of conditioner, and squeezed about a quarter sized amount on your palm, and ran it through the ends of his hair, careful not to get any on his scalp. "it has to sit for a little bit" you said, rinsing any of the left over residue from your hands.
there was no response, not even a hum or a nod, from boothill. "boots ?" you asked. there was still nothing. you looked over his face, there was no sign that he had heard you at all, not even in the tiniest twitch in his face. now that the water was off, and you weren't so focused on his hair, you could hear the quiet snores coming from him. "oh" you whispered, realizing only now that at some point during the process of washing his hair, he had been lulled to sleep.
you leaned down, brushing your lips ever so gently on his forehead, leaving a feather light kiss on his skin. the rancid smell he'd come into your apartment with now replaced with a sweet floral scent, mixed with subtle hints of vanilla and fresh cotton. you spoke in a hushed whisper, cautious to not wake up, saying out loud for the first time; "i love you, boothill"
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procyonloser · 2 days ago
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Pt 2
Lucifer had been thinking about the guy at the aquarium for the last two weeks, on and off. He'd not really been eager to date since the divorce, and Lucifer was not a hook up kind of guy. He truly did want to be an anglerfish, he wanted to latch onto his partner until one or (ideally) both of them died. He was obsessive, but in a fun caring way that definitely didn't drive his ex wife away.
"Ugh..." Lucifer dragged his hand down his face, trying not to look at himself in the mirror, at the risk of seeing the purple under his eyes that seemed just ever present at this point in his exhausted life.
"Papa, look!" Charlie said, standing up from her little table he had in the living room for all her arts and crafts. She ran over, holding a big piece of paper with a bunch of scribbles on it, but in the middle was unmistakenly a jellyfish from the aquarium. Lucifer grabbed it in his hands with a big smile, marveling at it - his daughter was so talented!
"It's beautiful, Charchar!" Lucifer exclaimed, kissing her all over her head, to squeals of giggles. "Wow, look at that, what a perfect jellyfish! You really liked the aquarium, huh?"
Charlie nodded her head, eyes big and bright. "I like the one tank with the pink stuff, and the other one with the one thing, and the floppy little guys on the ground, and the-"
"Do you want to go again?" Lucifer asked her, and Charlie froze up for a second, processing the question, before she bolted for the door, grabbing her little red coat and boots. Lucifer wanted to cry, she was so cute.
Lucifer had packed in the car her stroller wagon, because Charlie had started to get tired last time by the end, and she'd made Lucifer carry her coat and stuffed toys the entire time. They'd been rolling around the aquarium for a bit, looking at the different displays, before Charlie got excited at the penguin exhibit. Not exactly what Lucifer considered aquarium animals, but he supposed it made as much sense as an otter or seal.
He lifted Charlie up so she could see the birds waddle around, and he was so distracted by her reaction, he didn't notice the shadow beside him.
"I hate penguins," the voice said, and Lucifer turned slightly to look at the man, before doing a double take, eyes going wide. Oh, oh it was the hot but not hot guy from before, Lucifer opened his mouth, before closing it, and then opened it again. "You doing your best fish impersonation? You really do want to be a male anglerfish, don't you?" He asked with a cheeky grin, and Lucifer finally got the chance to see his name tag.
Adam. Yeah, he looked like an Adam.
"Well, you know," Lucifer laughed nervously, maybe a little too enthusiastically, but he had a hard time gauging that sort of thing. "Why don't you like penguins?"
"The stink, and they're fucking sociopaths, like they're tiny demons. Everyone goes, oh they're so cute, oh look at the gay penguins, aren't they great? No, they're awful. Worse than dolphins. You know what necrophilia is?" Lucifer regretfully nodded his head, grimace spreading across his face.
"Like I said," Adam said with a huff, looking back over at the birds. "I don't like penguins."
"Reasonable," Lucifer said in a slightly higher tone, growing more aware the man was just... There. Standing next to him. No one else was around. Sure, maybe he was an employee talking to a client, but it didn't seem like that was it. "Do you like any birds, or is your thing just...fish?"
"Swans are cool," Adam said, glancing at him. "They are super loyal, they mate for life, and they're giant vicious shits."
"I like ducks," Lucifer said plainly, immediately regretting it.
"Don't get me started on ducks," Adam rolled his eyes, before pushing away from the banister. "I'm about to go run the touch tank in the kid's activity reef room, if your kiddo wants to come see. You can touch little rays, starfish, shrimp, sea cucumbers."
"...Sea cucumbers?" Lucifer asked, raising an eyebrow. He'd never heard of them, was that like a sea sponge? But Adam sent him a wicked grin in response to the question, like he'd been hoping Lucifer wouldn't know much about them.
"Yeah, they're long tubes basically, and if you rub them too much and they get overwhelmed, they shoot out their intestines in long white stands." Adam said with a wink, before he walked a few feet away, glancing back at Lucifer with a smirk. "You gunna come, or do you need to latch onto me to keep up?"
"Ha...ha," Lucifer wheezed out, eyes falling to Adam's backside, before Charlie tugged on his jacket.
"Can we go? I want to see the shrimps." Charlie asked, giving her best puppy eyes, which worked instantly of course, Lucifer was a bit of a push over when it came to her.
"Absolutely," Lucifer said, already planning on buying a yearly membership to the aquarium.
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yaseraphinee · 2 days ago
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astro observations 5 - appearance and vibes / Cancer rising men
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Men used as examples in this post : Booba / Troye Sivan / Nekfeu / Bill Gates / The Weeknd / Salvador Dali / George Michael/ Pharrell Williams / John Cena / Cyril Hanouna
Physical appearance 
Weirdly enough, a lot of them have chad faces / the type to be labeled as a "professional moggers" or whatever it is called / probably the most objectively handsome men in my opinion / square jaws / soft watery eyes / smooth skin / irresistible and sweet smirk
When they get older, some of them end up having the Dilf/ Daddy type of looks with this softness still remaining that usually makes women melt (yes i used John Cena as a dilf example..sorry guys)
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"There must have been an angel by my side"
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The eyes and the jaw is huge here, they also are generally muscular -> the chest area is prominent in a way
They tend to look like cherubs. They have an angel-like appearance.
Really angelic and cute appearance. A little shy the first time you meet, get flustered easily, pink ears and cheeks
The eyes are really expressive and sparkly. It's like you can see stars being reflected in their eyes when you look at them. A really soft, poetic and deep gaze that can make you blush a bit. Their eyes from what I have seen are full of emotions. Really captivating but not in a intense scopionic sense, it's more magical kind of like bishonen, the standard face of male protagonists in shojos or just generally a lot of animes (think of Howl in the Ghibli movie Howl's moving castle)
Body : usually smaller than average. Twinks or buff dudes with a heart of gold. There is no in-between in my experiences.
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If you know about Kibbe or Kitchener's body type and face type essences systems :
Kibbe body type :  Flamboyant gamine, or gamine , some could be soft classic even
Face type / essence : Gamine, Ingenue or more rarely Angelic (ethereal)
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First impressions, vibes, general way of presenting themselves
Right off the bat, there is something significant about the way they speak and interact with people. They usually have really soft, deep and soothing voices. Talk in a really calm and composed manner. They take their time to speak. They take their time to pronounce each word.
Have a way with words that is usually really captivating. Really calming presence. Natural talent for poetry, play on words. They can be really good at voice acting. They usually have a really good diction too. Really good storytellers.
Appears really shy though. Can’t really hide their emotions, we can easily read right through them.
A lot of them are artistically inclined, really sensitive men. Women feel safe around them and they are often surrounded by women.
Really appreciated by women. The type of men little girls want to marry when they grow up.
They usually know how to keep people at ease by using humor too. They tend to be quite funny and have a really relatable humor. Usually really good at imitations too. Good at picking up on people’s emotions. 
Really caring and attentive to their loved ones.
Likes to call people by pet names/ cute nicknames like "darling", "angel" "sweatheart", etc ..from my experience. The type to say "let's go kids!" to their group of friends. Even if they are men, they are just usually really maternal.
Usually is quite expressive in their "face body language" and likes to make goofy facial expressions. Their emotions are just visible on their face.
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Makes deep eye contact, nods at everything you say. The type to tell you " no no it's ok keep going 😆😅" when you're losing your train of thoughts.
If you accidentally overshare, and they obviously see you’re embarrassed, they will reassure you.
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Killers on the Dancefloor ? : Something also quite random about them is that they all have these silly little dances and signature moves that they do. If you invite them to a party, be prepared to be impressed. It’s a bit silly and kind of cute but at same time they’re killing it.
You feel like you can cry in their arms vibes. They have this friendly energy.
A lot of them tend to create a community since they need it. Always in search of their soul family.
A lot of them tend to have groupies from what I have seen. Like they can become the main pillar that holds their friend group together. 
Generally really paternal/maternal, kind of like a reassuring parental figure. Just like Capricorn risings, they have this parental figure vibes to them. It's like you can count on them. However , Capricorn risings represent more the archetype of the Father, representing tough love and practicality. Cancer risings on the other hand represent the archetype of the Mother, focusing on emotional security and vulnerability.
When Capricorn risings look like they would give you great life advice and be a good mentor, Cancer risings look like you can be vulnerable and open up to them, like they can provide you emotional healing. Kind of like a therapist in a way.
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The Devil hidden behind those angelic eyes : 
Smooth Operator - Sade : “his eyes are like angels but his heart is cold”
“No place for beginners or sensitive hearts
When sentiment is left to chance
“No place to be ending but somewhere to start”
“A license to love, insurance to hold
Melts all your memories and change into gold
His eyes are like angels but his heart is cold”
Despite all this potential to be an amazing, emotionally mature, sensitive and creative person a lot of them will fall in the shadows. Deception, emotional manipulation, victimization, gaslighting will be their driving force and fuel through life. Because of unresolved negative and destructive emotional patterns, they will become the most vile and manipulative creatures you’ll ever meet, all of this disguised behind a mask of sympathy and openness. They will trick you into thinking you can open up yourself to them, that they’ll understand you. You will not realize until it’s too late that you’ve been tricked by their sweet words and their skills to read right through people. They will project and consistently play victim. They will become professional actors. They will be the type of men Raye describes in her song named :  “Oscar Winning Tears.” She says that about the song : “This is about a man who put me through hell, and then proceeded to cry about it. I wanted to create a big dramatic classic feeling record with live strings to capture the audacity of his silly tears, to feel powerful whilst telling this story”
=> “Truly, I'm vulnerable, I love a sentiment
Quickly I opened up, I learned my lesson then
Thought I was safe again, thought he was innocent
I was so wrong”
“I can't deny
I thought you were the man, but you had a plan
The fuck you lying for? Fuck you crying for?
You did it again (yeah, ah-ah-ah)”
“So I'll take this front row seat
And baby, baby, you can go ahead
Cry those Oscar-winning tears
Popcorn and I scream
Baby, baby, you can go ahead
Cry those Oscar winning (tears) tears, baby”
The white lies will begin to be stained by red dots of blood. Their heightened intuition and sensitivity will not be used for good and will become a deadly weapon. A weapon that traps its victims in a sugar coated hell. Let’s not forget that their shadow (their 7th house sign) is Capricorn, represented by The Devil in Tarot.  The light of their angel-like charm will pull you in only to realize too late that you’ve fallen deep in the shadows, embraced by the hands of the devil. But it’s too late. You’ve already fallen too deep in the umbra to even see just a gleam.
Cancer risings sadly tend to be stuck in really toxic emotional cycles from what I have seen. 
A lot of them tend to be master manipulators. The type to guilt-trip and gaslight you. 
Real-life examples of this shadow side: 
Shane Dawson was extremely well-liked on the internet. He was infamous for his funny skits, was good at imitations and kind of created this relatable persona that people got attached to. Cancerian energy gave him this familiar and “sweet” guy vibes that made people admire his apparent transparency. Turns out he was extremely manipulative and problematic.
Nekfeu , In his songs, there is a scary amount of self-awareness regarding his toxic behaviors and the patterns he tends to repeat. This to me is the peak example of how thin the layer is between each signs’ light and shadow side. This hyper self-awareness towards their shadow side while simultaneously consciously repeating it describes really well those men. They don’t use their intuition for good.
Laughable loves / Ridiculous loves (risibles amours)
“And each time I care, I can't be myself
Why this need to hide everything ?
None of these girls matter, and I met you
You were different, it scared me, and I screwed up
We were part of a whole thing, we were high perched
If I lost her, I would have looked for it”
“My boy's envies/desires turn into a boring game
Relationships which lead me nowhere
Even if I'm trying to find the solution in this illusion of seduction
I've got the feeling that I only knew one woman
I know the risks of love I'm still having a taste for the risk
the boy’s envies/ desires is to be understood in “my boyish desires”. He is rapping about the desires he has that are one of a boy, not  a man. He knows it, knows it is self-destructive. Throughout the entire song, he shows really obvious self-awareness.
=> It is really hard to find good/ perfect translations to his play on words since sometimes he uses french idioms that aren't easily translatable in english without losing the meaning. (i found the lyrics' translation here => https:/lyricstranslate.com/fr/risibles-amours-laughable-loves.html)
/!\ disclaimer - mention of domestic abuse /!\
When I made that post, it wasn’t known yet that one of  the main examples used here (Nekfeu / the guy in the two pictures in between The Weeknd holding his grammys and next to troye sivan in the "there must have been an angel by my side" part) recently got exposed for having “allegedly” physically, psychologically and sexually abused his ex-partner. (i put allegedly in quotations marks because girl there are much higher chances he did it then not. I will always stand with the victims. If you went through something similar know that : Victims we always believe you and we stand by you ! ). While preparing for the post, the news wasn't out yet so I had to change the way I portrayed him accordingly. I think a reminder is always needed because putting him here will unfortunatly make him have some "visibility". I don't want to present him in a positive light or to make him gain potential new fans. If I can use this post to raise awareness, I will do it gladly. Especially with the current state of the world, and how more and more women's rights are getting taken away.
The Weeknd , being a cancer rising with a capricorn stellium shows this duality really well. His lyrics are raw and confessional. He shows a lot of self-awareness regarding his terrible and toxic behaviors. He is absolutely aware that he is stuck in karmic cycles yet this awareness isn’t enough to get him out of those self-destructive cycles.
Cyril Hanouna, is a very controversial french radio host and TV host and producer. He is known for being extremely narcissistic and for always playing victim, saying people are trying to attack him unfairly. He is extremely manipulative and sly, and pretends it’s always other people’s fault.
+BONUS / Additional visual examples :
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random-meme-bot · 14 hours ago
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God I really need to do something with Trisanity because I swear to God it, Surge & Kit with Nina Cortex just works too well and I can't believe nobody else sees my vision.
Putting a cut here because I know I'm going to ramble a lot.
Like, they are such perfect reflections of each other I'm amazed they aren't even from the same franchise.
All of them were "adopted" by an evil scientist at a young age point of which they were implanted with the idea that they were evil and that's all they will ever be.
None of them have a real motivation as to why they hate the main characters, why does Surge/Kit hate Sonic & Tails, because without them Starline wouldn't have created them, why does Nina want to defeat Crash & Coco, to prove that she can do what her uncle is unable to do.
All three of them were made cyborgs as both a way of controlling them and enhancing their abilities.
The main difference which makes the idea of these three interacting so interesting, is that while Surge & Kit started to doubt Starline's lie and turned against him when he dismissed their origins as useless information, Nina completely accepted it.
And, as cliche as this might sound, the reason why Nina's brainwashing worked while Surge's & Kit's didn't is because Surge & Kit were made what they were as an act of spite while Nina was made as an act of love.
Starline adopted/kidnapped/created 2 kids and made fake vage back stories which he implanted into them and then trained and hypnotize them in order to turn them into Sonic & Tails in the least amount of time posible.
On the other hand, Neo Cortex is Nina's biological uncle and he started to take care of her after the rest of the Cortex family died in a fire (that Cortex may or may not have caused), Nina grew up thinking that the Cortex were a long line of evil scientists instead of a circus family not because Cortex brainwashed her, but because he feels ashamed of their origins and whishes that his family would've supported his dream of becoming a scientist, he replaced Nina's hands with robotic ones programmed to crush any animal they come into contact out of fear that her love of animals would've moved her away from the path of evil, while also making said arms incredibly versatile as positive reinforcement, and in the same vein as Cortex rewriting their origins, he sent Nina to the Academy of evil, an school Cortex himself studied in and claims to have fond memories of.
Nina wasn't made evil to serve as weapons like Surge & Kit, she was made evil because Cortex wanted to give her the life he wishes hed had, which is why Nina never questioned Cortex, because unlike Starline, he didn't rush the process.
Starline made vague backstories for Surge & Kit which made them question why they do what they do, while Cortex rewrote their entire family history to the point of making fake paintings of his parents, Starline turned Surge & Kit into cyborgs to make them easier to control and improve their abilities but never told them about it making them question why they are able to resist massive damage with no problem, while Cortex turned Nina into a cyborg under the premise that he was giving her an upgrade, Surge & Kit were trained reclusively making them question why they don't have any memories prior to meeting Starline, while Nina was trained in an school alongside other similar students...
Surge & Kit grew up in an environment full of holes that made them question everything and then made them forget they even asked, while Nina grew up in an environment expertly crafted to make her believe that that was the norm, that it was stupid to even ask questions.
Going back to the original post this whole thing started with, All three of them got molded by the hands of an evil mastermind, destroyed and rebuilt, manipulated and controlled when they tried to gain their own autonomy, and the idea that they are evil is rooted so deep into their minds they can ever hope to figure out what they actually want and live a normal life.
The difference being that Nina doesn't know, she doesn't know she was molded by Neo, she thinks that's the same mold as any other Cortex, she doesn't know she was destroyed and manipulated away from liking animals, she thinks it is a side effect of her metal hands (which is also implied she got really young so she might not even remember having normal hands), she doesn't question what she wants or if she will ever live a normal life because for her she's already living a normal life doing what she wants, what evey other member of the Cortex family wanted, the same thing that any other person she's ever interacted with wanted.
And here's where things get interesting, because they all represent a different side of where they could go.
Surge & Kit represents a path in which Nina met someone who had been in a similar situation to her, someone who actually allowed her to for the first time since she has memory, pet an animal without harming it, someone who made her question everything. A path in which Nina joins them as the Knuckes of the group and all three break free from the paths created for them and are able to do their own thing.
While Nina represents, a path in which Surge & Kit met someone who had been in a similar situation as them, someone who for the first time actually cared about them and saw them as family, someone who would offer them the chance of not having to question anything again. A parh in which Surge & Kit joins them as Crash's & Coco's counterparts and all three embrace the lie and live as villains.
(There's also the whole Surge & Kit having trust issues with Cortex because he reminds them too much of Starline while Cortex originally hates them but grows to appreciate them as Nina, Surge & Kit reminds him of himself, N.Brio & N.Gin when they were students at the academy of evil, which I won't go into detail because, this is already as long as it is [sorry OP, I know this was about Metal Sonic and I completely derailed it out of nowhere with an essay.])
There is genuinely so much you could do with this trio and so many ways you could take the story I genuinely feel like a crazy conspiracy guy because it's so clear I can't be the only one who sees this right‽‽‽
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Anyway sorry again OP, I really need to make an actual post about this instead of rambling in the replies.
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camillelespanayesbtch · 2 days ago
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Seven Devils All Around Me (18+)
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Content: Eventual smut, graphic depictions of murder and violence, character death, power imbalance, manipulation, addiction, grief, discussion of sexual violence (r receiving) (I will add more as I think of them)
Chapter Content: Funeral, men being violent, fire
Word Count: 3942
Agatha Harkness x fem!reader
Chapter Two
The embers had long grown cold by the time you found it in yourself to lay your mother down so you could prepare her grave. It would take a while to dig the hole, but you didn’t want to rush it as the walls would cave in. You could tell the soil was good, it was dark and fluffy, worms wriggling around in the pile to the side of the hole as you add another shovel load to it. This is what your mother had wanted from you all along, to ensure that the soil that provides you with food had enough nutrition to continue providing, to not starve and sap life from the plants that called the earth their home. The earth, this soil would now be your mother’s home, and you hoped that the insects and bugs would treat her as kindly as she had them.
You wipe the sweat and tears from your face onto your sleeve, smearing the dirt that had got on your clothes onto your face. You lean back against the wall of the grave, tilting your head up to look at the night sky above. The stars were twinkling brilliantly, some even dancing across the sky and kissing the moon as they pass by. You reach your hand out, hoping to capture one of them because where there was light as bright as this, there was life, and maybe just maybe it would be enough to bring her back, but just like when you were a child trying the same thing- the stars were out of reach for they were meant to be untouched, their purpose is to be free, to guide us should we need it. A soft sigh leaves your lips, watching the way the light from the moon reflects off your nails and for a moment you could trick yourself into believing you had the stars at your fingertips.
You turn your head to look at where your mother lay, the light of the moon shining down on her made her body look silver instead of like a body from Pompeii. You plant your hands on the ground above the grave and pull yourself out, taking the shovel with you and stabbing it into the mound of dirt. There was a brief moment where you wanted to keep stabbing the soil, as if to punish it for what had transpired that day, but you had already disappointed your mother while she was living, you did not need her spirit to feel that way too. Your shoulders slump, more sobs wracking through your body, and you would have let yourself succumb to despair had you not been worried the beasts of the night would take to her body. You force yourself to turn around and go to your mother’s body, using your powers to lift her up, the tendrils of red carefully wrapping around her as you guide her into the grave. You lay her gently in the cold dark earth, leaning down to place a bouquet in her hands, hoping it would protect her like the flowers she had woven into your hair did. You stare at her a moment longer, although she no longer had her icy-blue eyes or soft features, you could still tell it was her because there were lines on her face that weren’t burnt- paths created by her healing tears as she cried for you, for herself. No one cried for you as much as she did.
You were careful piling the dirt on top of her, your last act as her caring daughter, perhaps even penance for inflicting so much suffering upon her. She had always told you to be respectful of the dead, be it an animal or human, their body should be cared for just as much as you would have cared for them while they were still alive. A proper burial is essential, each stone placed gently as to not wake the dead. Then the flowers, ones that they loved, ones that will protect them on the other side.
You scatter the last shovel of dirt on the grave before putting the shovel to the side to start placing the rocks. On the underside of each one was a rune, carved into it with your knife, and although you weren’t a protection witch like she was, there was still the possibility they did something- there is still the possibility it will stop the other members of the coven from desecrating her grave. The last stone was her headstone, you carve her symbol into it, a lotus, the representation of the cycle of life. The sound was harsh on your ears, metal scraping against hard stone shouldn’t ever happen like this, and usually it wouldn’t, would it? Nobody would willingly sit on the wet earth under the night sky and carve runes and symbols into rocks to mark a loved one’s grave, they would sooner do everything they could do to ensure their family survives than this. Why hadn’t you done that? Selfish girl. Monster.
You stand up, gathering the last of the flowers and laying them over the stones, “Everything returns to the earth with which we came,” you murmur. You wipe your face again, a terrible aching in your chest as the weight of the evening finally settles in your bones. You understood that there were people out there that lost their mother younger than you, and there was no doubt that was incredibly painful, but tonight- tonight you had lost yours. Then again, those children, those teenagers, they were not the reason their mother died, but you were. You are. Were you really burying her to protect her? Or were you doing that to assuage your own guilt? This was the most genuine thing you have done for your mother in a long, long time. Do not kid yourself, the flowers you gave her, the false apologies that left your lips as easily as milk flows from a cow’s udder, those were not sincere, those were not genuine. You are, and always will be, nothing more than a selfish, evil little girl that you heard your mother call you one meeting.
Just like it had earlier that day, the same darkness settles onto you, and while your cheeks were stained with tears, no more threatened to fall. The switch had flicked in your brain, and as you head back to the house you’d once called home, the bodies of the other witches go up in flames once more. If you closed your eyes, you swore you could hear them screaming and oh how that sent a shiver down your spine. Those women had it coming, always treating you like an outcast, a miscreant, and whispering in your mother’s ear about how you should have been left in the woods as a baby to be torn apart by wolves. You hum to yourself as you walk, your fingers moving down by your side as though you’re conducting a choir, the gesture soothing to you even as you feel the spark of magic jumping between fingertips. Maybe you should burn this town to the ground, get the few good people out with a warning sent on the wind, then sit back and watch the fireworks begin.
The front door was still open when you get back, a few leaves from outside having blown in on the breeze but other than that, there was no evidence of anyone damaging the property. You shut the door behind you, your eyes landing on the chair your mother had sat in, a few petals from flowers scattered around it, the color drained from them. You let out a bark of a laugh at that, pushing off the door then heading upstairs, each footstep hitting the floor with a heavy thud, the wooden steps groaning under the force. You didn’t know what to put in your bag, obviously you needed underwear- you had gone commando once or twice and the sensation was thoroughly unwelcome. But should you pack your laptop? Makeup? It seemed silly, really, to bring those things along with you. You couldn’t take your phone charger because you didn’t know when you’d next be in a building with a plug, maybe you could get one of those solar chargers on your adventure. You toss a few clothes into your backpack before going to your bed where you pick up the soft toy you’ve had since you were a baby, it had definitely seen better days, but it still provided you comfort. You stare at its black beady eyes, able to see your reflection in them and you looked so small in those little eyes, the black exaggerating the filth that you were covered in. Should you shower? It seemed rather pointless to wash the dirt and grime from your skin when you were about to spend lord knows how long wandering the great outdoors. You didn’t want to catch ubers to other towns as it meant waiting around for them to arrive which gave ample opportunity for the rest of the coven to lynch you.
You hug the toy close to yourself, closing your eyes as you breathe in your mother’s perfume that had been sprayed on it. The toy provided such comfort to you, your heartrate slowing down as you continue to take deep breaths, and if you let your mind wander you could almost feel your mother’s arms wrapping around you, her soft voice in your ear “You are kind. You are smart. You are my beautiful little girl. Never forget, mama loves you.” You wish you hadn’t heard that last part because how could she say she loves you then cast you aside to burn? How could she have admitted to the other members of the coven that she knew you were evil, agreeing with them when they said she should have left you in the woods then come home to you and profess her love? You didn’t understand. You grab the toys head with one hand, your other hand gripping the body and you start to twist it, the fire returning to your eyes, “If you want me to burn, then I’ll burn everything that once was mine.”
Try as you might, the threads holding the toy together did not budge, no fabric tears as the head twists three-sixty. You swear loudly, going to throw it on the ground when a glimmer catches your eye- only when you look closer could you see that the thread was gold. Of course, you think bitterly, of course. Your mother must have known from the moment you left her body that you would be an angry girl, that no amount of love she pours into you would make you calm like she was. No amount of food laced with calming herbs, nor drinks brewed with nothing but love would dull the volcano that bubbled deep within you.
You feel your hands warm up, not bothering to take deep breaths to calm the impending combustion, and soon enough you were holding the toy as it starts to burn- the flames licking up its sides, wrapping around the toy in a cloak, the smell of burning cotton hitting your nose. It was frustrating, watching it clearly on fire yet none of the fur was turning black, the beady eyes did not melt, and if you were being honest, that made it worse than actually destroying something that had once provided you such comfort all those years ago. “Why won’t you just die?” You ask it, voice barely audible over the crackling of the flames, “Just break. Break. Break.” Please.
You toss the burning toy onto your bed, gathering the last few items you wanted and stuffing them into your backpack before zipping it up and slinging it over your shoulder. The smell of burning fabric fills the room along with thick black smoke, the substance staining the white walls until they too were consumed by flames. There was a strange comfort in the warmth of the fire as they lick at your skin like snake tongues, tickling what skin was available to them and threatening to further ruin your clothing. You reach out, your hand hovering above the flames, your fingers moving as though you could make the fire dance the way you want it to. The heat stung, were you anybody else, your skin would be threatening to blister, filling with liquid then bursting, or perhaps it would melt off like it did those men. Part of you hoped that it would, maybe then you would understand why your mother had begged for you to stop, why the men had screamed so loudly with the echoes of all those that had perished before them. Maybe you did deserve to burn after all.
You let out a laugh and shake your head, don’t be so foolish. You did what you had to do, didn’t you? So what if a few men got hurt in the process, how many thousands of women have been hurt because of them for no reason? They had it coming. They only have themselves to blame. You leave your room, humming to yourself as you make your way downstairs, the burning inferno surging after you, spilling down the steps behind you and reaching out to wrap around your feet. You and your mother were the only ones to sing this song in your coven as the elder-witch had forbidden it, claiming it had been used for centuries to lure witches to their demise. How could a song do something like that? All songs have stories to them, it didn’t make them true. Yet, whenever you hum the tune, the ballad, you could feel your magic crackling under your skin, at the tips of your fingers like electricity- whoever created it knew what they were doing, and deep down, you didn’t blame them for using it to their advantage. People hate to see a woman succeed.
“You can burn the place to the ground, but it won’t hide what you’ve done,” a gruff voice says, a husband of one of the women whom you had killed at your attempted execution. He was holding a crossbow up, the sharp tip of the arrow pointing at you, the steel reflecting the fire that was starting to creep along the ceiling towards the only exit, the beast starved for oxygen. He narrows his eyes at you when you don’t flinch, instead, holding your head up higher, your fingers twitching by your side as the tips begin to glow. “You killed my wife,” he continues, “You turned my daughter against us. There is no space in this coven for someone like you.”
You run your tongue over your teeth as a smirk tugs at your lips, shaking your head slightly you then suck in a breath, “Me?” You ask innocently, putting your hands behind your back and shifting your body slightly like a child would when trying to get out of trouble, “Little old me?” A chuckle rumbles from your chest before escaping from your mouth, quickly turning into a cackle that makes the man step back, his crossbow wavering, “It’s not my fault your daughter saw you two for the sad, weak, pathetic little witches you really are.” If you twisted the knife a little deeper, he’d soon cave in to his base instinct, all men do and that made them terribly predictable. “Heaven forbid I treat your daughter better than any man could. What? Can’t handle another maiden treating her right? Is that because you were busy the next town over fucking someone her age? Tsk, twenty-three is a bit young for you, don’t you think?”
“You little bitch!” He yells, tossing the cross-bow to the side as he storms up to you, his hands coming up to wrap around your neck like a noose. His thumbs press into the center of your throat, his fingers squeezing and cutting the flow of blood to your head. He doesn’t even realize that your eyes fill with burning flames, nor does he swat your hands away as the grip his head, his anger fueling him to keep going even as your thumbs start to press into his eyes. “You can’t kill all of us,” he growls.
Your head was starting to pound, your face growing hot as you start to feel the effect of lack of oxygen, but as that happens, the build up of energy in you only grows. Your hands were burning, leaving handprint burns on his face, the heat traveling throughout his body and starting to boil him. Only then, only when his insides start to turn to soup does his grip on you disappear, the man clawing at his clothes and stumbling back as he tries to escape his fate. “You can’t-“ He falls to the ground, writhing in pain, “You can’t- You can’t escape what you are-“
You stand over him, your chest heaving as you grapple the overwhelming magic trying to find balance in your body, “What I am?” You laugh, the sound drowning out the crackling of wood and shattering of glass from the heat. “What I am?!” You crouch down, grabbing his jaw roughly with your hand and watching his eyes grow redder as his capillaries burst, “You say that like it’s a bad thing,” you murmur, a feral look on your face. You push his head away before standing up, watching as his body is engulfed by flames.
You rub your throat, hissing as your fingers press against the bruising. How long would it take for them to fade? Your mother would have healed them, the skin looking perfect once more, but she was no longer here. She wouldn’t ever return. You didn’t know how long it would take for it to naturally go away. Would it be gone tomorrow? Or would it take longer? Maybe you could Google it, although that in itself was a bad idea. You adjust your backpack then hold the straps as you walk out the front door, the house caving in as its framing yields to the hungry inferno. You had no idea where to go, but you knew you couldn’t stay here. If he found you, it wouldn’t be long before others joined.
Long after the fire had burned, leaving behind smoldering embers of the house, only then did the witch dare to step out from where she had been lurking. She took a few tentative steps, looking around to see if there were any onlookers but thankfully, for their sake more than hers, there were none. She rolls her shoulders back, tilts her chin up then saunters towards the coals, each foot placement careful because she certainly didn’t want her shoes to get dirty, and this place was a tip. Why hadn’t you tidied up a little bit, hm? Your mother would be so disappointed, and besides, it’s not like you had anything better to do with your time. Ha! Oh, she makes herself laugh. She is terribly funny, a comedienne if you will.
She uses a stick to poke around the in embers, letting out a huff every time she doesn’t find what she’s looking for. She isn’t a very patient woman, and this is certainly testing every single ounce of patience she has. She was close to giving up, even though she would never actually admit to it, when she sees a glimmer of gold, “There you are,” she murmurs, flicking her coat out as she crouches down to pick the sooty toy up. She dusts it off with a grimace, the ash falling off with ease until the toy looked normal again. The beady black eyes stare into hers, a chuckle rumbling from her chest, “Take a picture, why dontcha? Get my good side.” She turns her head before laughing, “Oh who am I kidding? Every side is my good side, you flirt.” She winks at it before making her way off the rubble, dusting herself off and letting out a sound of disgust. Why did everything involve so much fucking dirt??
The witch looks at the toy once more, she could feel the protection spell emanating from it and she, better than anyone else, knew that it comes from the purest thing out there- a mother’s love. It made her sick. How could someone claim to be a good mom and do what yours did? So what if you were a little- psychotic, all the best women are! There’s nothing wrong with a little murder every now and then, it’s what makes life more interesting. And so what if you got a little pep in your step after because their energy is intoxicating? More power to ya! She loved a little energy drink too, and she certainly isn’t talking about redbull. There she goes again, making herself laugh. Her humor never ceases to amaze her.
“Who are you?” A voice asks her, making the witch whip her head around in the direction it came from. “You’re not from here. I know the faces of all the women in our coven- Well, the ones that remain, and you’re not one of them.”
A young little thing, how sweet. A little bit too big for her britches though, brazen in asking the [Redacted] who she is. “Isn’t it past your bedtime, little girl?” She asks the young woman, her eyes running over the figure before looking at her once more. “Don’t tell me… Your mother was burnt like an over-cooked chicken wing, huh? Maybe if you add a little hot sauce she’ll come back, the little zing might just-“ she gestures with her hands like she was shocking someone, “Zing her back to life.”
“Don’t talk about my mother like that,” the young woman bites back, clenching her fists beside her. She knew the risk her mother faced because she had pleaded with her not to do it, but there are laws in covens and they need to be followed, no matter the personal cost. “You can’t be here. You need to leave.”
“Aww, did I touch a sore spot, hm? Maybe I should have called her one chicken nugget from the pack of- what, seven? Did the McDonald’s workers toss an extra one in for good luck? And where’s the sweet and sour sauce?” Her own fingers were twitching by her side, the toy now safely in her pant pocket. "What is a little thing like you gonna do about it? You’re no bigger than a French-fry.”
“Stop!” The witch screams at the unknown woman. She takes a few breaths to calm herself, letting out a sigh after, “My mother told me about witches like you. I won’t let my anger make me a victim. You’re not welcome here. You must leave before the men find you, they don’t take kindly to strangers.” She takes one more look at the mystery woman before turning and heading back to her home, she would tell her father about this if she remembered.
The mystery witch lets out a frustrated groan, stomping her foot, “Ugh!” What is it with people being taught how to regulate their emotions these days!? What was wrong with the good ol’ pure unadulterated rage!? Pathetic. She rakes her fingers through her hair, the gesture soothing her before she heads on her way, the toy heavy in her pocket. It wouldn’t take much for her to find you, just follow the ashy road. Maybe she could make a song about that- follow the ashy road. You’re off to see the- the… fuck. Who were you after? Ugh.
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yallthemwitches · 1 day ago
Text
Whispers in the Dark
“And—I dunno. They’re barking mad but I love them. I’m an only child so I imagine you understand now why I’m like this.” He makes a rare self-deprecating gesture towards himself, something the James from a year ago would never have done. It makes Lily break into a real laugh.  “And this,” Lily mirrors his gesture, “meaning…” James grins, and it does something downright delectable to her heart. “This meaning an arrogant git who is too thick to notice other people’s personal lives.” 
When Lily is awarded her prefect badge in fifth year, they warn her that James Potter has a talent for disappearing. But if that's true, why does he keep coming to her night after night, hoping to be caught? Oneshot, Rated T--- AO3 Link Here
Fifth Year 
By the time Lily was awarded her badge, James Potter was already bestowed a nickname among the prefects: The Shadow. 
“Don’t you think that's a bit too ominous for a git who just mucks around all night?” Next to her, Remus snorts but keeps his eyes low. 
“You won’t understand until you have your first patrol—it's like he just…disappears.” The way the Head Boy says it, it makes James sound like some sort of spectre plaguing the corridors, not some untidy haired knob trying to explode the toilets. Lily’s eyes sink as Remus covers a cough that suspiciously sounds like a laugh. 
“Care to elaborate on your mate then, Remus?” She flashes him an innocent smile. Even under the newfound pressure he doesn’t straighten, rather pulling a pack of muggle cigarettes out of his cloak and tapping it on his knee. 
“Nothing to say,” Remus replies cooly, shooting Lily an equally saccharine grin, “just that you better hope he never hears about his little nickname if you don’t want him to be even more incorrigible.”
“Why? I thought you boys dug little nicknames.” She narrows her eyes, accepting the challenge to get him to respond with anything other than collected nonchalance. 
“Trust me on this one—he will be unbearable.”
* * * * *
The worst part of it all is that the senior prefects weren’t wrong, he really would just be there. 
“Alright Evans?” 
She whips around, wand already poised. The corridors leading to the dungeons are more shadowed than the rest of the school, but her eyes have already adjusted to the dark and from what she can tell, she is alone. 
“Potter—I’m not in the mood.” 
There’s a shuffle and she hears a boy's voice murmur ‘when is she ever’ before a round of clipped laughs trickle in the darkness. She turns again, trying to find the source. 
“You gits—I know you are here and I'll give you detention whether I can see you or not.”
She turns again and lets out a small gasp. James stands at the far reaches of her wand light, eyes dancing with mirth behind the reflection of his glasses. 
“Congratulations on the ah…promotion,” he grins and she feels the bristle of anger pull at the hair on her neck. 
She wants to prove herself as the only muggleborn prefect—and what better way than to catch this so-called Shadow. She takes a cautious step forward, worried he will skitter away like a wild animal if she moves too quickly. James just continues to grin, a hand grasping something shimmery behind his back. 
“You’re not supposed to be out.” She takes another step and he eyes her warily. 
“Oh, is that right?” He makes a show of looking around, brow furrowed in confusion. “Wow–sorry about that! Guess I got the time confused.” Another round of muffled laughter comes from behind him.
“C’mon, I’m escorting you back to the tower.” She moves to grab his arm but he jumps backwards, running into something that she can’t see but an oof and hey! ring out from the shadows. 
“As much as I’d love a romantic stroll with you Evans, I’m actually late to another engagement,” he tuts, his smile turning into a sly grin. The hand that has been behind his back lifts up and a portion of his arm disappears, then the rest of his body until his face hovers completely detached in the dark. 
“Raincheck though?” His grin hangs in the air for a second longer before the darkness takes him, but his presence still lingers. Nothing remains but the cold feeling of being watched. 
* * * * *
She’s still not used to it. The random appearances, the floating grins, the whispers in the dark which make her feel like she is living in a rabbit hole rather than a castle. It’s no wonder the prefects leave catching him up to Filch these days—he haunts them. 
“Hey Evans—”
She hopes that wherever he is hiding, he doesn’t see her jump. Turning towards the sound of his voice, he appears just a couple of steps away, hand already running through his hair. 
“I’ll make you a deal Potter, if you fuck off and don’t talk to me, I won’t give you detention.”
She expects him to consider it, but he doesn’t. His eyes are missing the glimmer they usually have when she runs into him at night. Instead, he keeps his head bowed, a frown weighing down his features. 
“I came to talk…to apologize for today.”
She doesn’t want to hear it. Turning on her heel she stalks off in the other direction but he catches up easily. 
“I don’t want some fake apology. I want you to leave me alone.”
Of course he doesn’t listen. He keeps her stride, angling his face to catch her eyes with his.
“It’s not fake–I really am sorry,” he gasps out, “ I was a git and never expected for Snive–Snape to say those things about you–.”
She stops dead in her tracks, her whole body contracting in anger. 
“Sorry? Are you sorry for all the other times you have bullied him too? Sorry for all the other shite you do to everyone around you? I don’t want your apology from you or from him–and I especially don’t want to rehash it with you right now.”
James doesn’t coil back, eyeing her with a brooding pain that feels out of place on his features.
“I know he was your friend. He shouldn’t say those things to you–friends don’t do that.”
It catches her off guard. She certainly isn’t looking for friendship advice from Potter, but he also has hit the nerve that’s been plaguing her all day. 
“I know I’m an arsehole–especially to Snape...but I’d never say something like that to my mates…or to you.”
Her eyes start to sting but the thought of crying in front of him feels like the most incorrigible thing that could possibly happen. She jerks away, stumbling in the direction they had come from. 
“Leave me alone—please.”
He doesn’t follow her like last time and she forces herself forward, rubbing the tears from her eyes. At the end of the corridor, she turns around, expecting to see him standing where she left him and some sick part of her hopes for it. But he has listened for once: he is gone—actually gone. 
* * * * *
She wishes she could disappear as easily as he could right about now. 
“Uhm… Evans?” James leans against the trophy case, a wet rag hanging at his side on his pointer finger. 
She calculates the possibility of turning around and pretending she never entered. Zero to none. On the table, a detention slip sits idly. A scratchy hand reads:
James Potter, Gryffindor, 5th year
Offense: Hexing and physical altercation with Slytherin boys ( 5th and 6th years)
Punishment: Trophy polishing—2 hours
She sighs, placing the paper down and settling her bag on the floor. “Filch is out dealing with a hinkypunk—I’m surveilling tonight.” She doesn’t look at him, crossing her arms tightly against her chest. “So, go on—I’m told you have some trophies to polish.”
James’ eyes remain wide as he nods, turning back to the case. With his back to her, she steals a moment to take him in—his shoulders are squared and there is something more wooden about his movements than she remembers. They haven’t spoken since she told him to leave her alone and she wonders if that’s the reason she hasn’t been seeing him as often. She hates to admit it, but patrols have become boring without him. 
Too busy deciphering his body language, she doesn’t catch him pulling his wand out of his pocket. With one swish, all the trophies gleam. 
“Hey! That’s not the punishment.”
 He turns, an eyebrow cocked upwards. “Yes it is, you said to polish the trophies… So I did.” 
Arrogant little shit. She hates when he’s right—which unfortunately is more often than she wants to admit. She sits on the ground and starts to fish through her bag, pulling out a transfiguration textbook and a parchment.
“Fine, fine. Then just be quiet over there—I have to get this essay finished.”
But she’s a fool to think that he will follow directions. He makes it about thirty seconds before he is up off the ground, coming to lean down and read over her shoulder with his head tilted downwards.
“It’s pretty good so far but you mis-characterized the difference between illusionment and deflection charms.”
She looks up with an insult already poised on her lips but is stopped short by the proximity of his face. Leaning down, his glasses are slipping off and she can see a small bruise blooming on his cheekbone just under his rims.
“Did a Slytherin give you that?” 
He pokes at the bruise curiously, also just noticing it. 
“Ah bugger.” He sits down next to her, splaying his legs in front of him while leaning on his hands. “Mulciber’s work I think. He’s fine at dueling but shite at punching—surprised he even got a decent hit.”
“So what, you’ve moved on to physical violence for fun?”
He whips his head around. For once, his eyes are absent of anything other than seriousness. 
“No actually. Just sticking up for my friends.” His stare is so intense she has to look away.
“I think Black can stick up for himself fine.”
“Yeah, Sirius can, but Remus can’t—not always.”
Now it’s her turn to stare. She had been curious as to why Remus hadn’t been on patrols earlier. It was hard to imagine him in a real argument, much less a physical scuffle. 
“Is he ok? Remus I mean.” The worry in her voice softens his gaze a bit, shoulders relaxing. 
“Yeah—he’s…he’s going to be fine.” James teeters off, something hidden behind his words. 
“Well–I’m glad.” She means it, though it feels understated. Her mind wanders to how often Severus would theorize about Remus’ absences and pushes away the idea that he could be behind the fight. 
“Do you want something? I mean for the bruise?” She rummages around in her bag again and pulls out a vial of white liquid. Handing it to him, he eyes it warily before opening the bottle and giving it a sniff. 
“It’s Mountain Arnica. I made it myself—heals cuts and scrapes pretty well.” 
James pulls his glasses up to his forehead and uses the pad of his finger to dab some onto the bruise. She makes a subconscious note that his eyes are much clearer without the glasses covering them. 
“You getting into a lot of tussles to warrant a bottle of this?” He flashes her a sly smile, warming back into form. 
She shrugs. “In second and third there were some Slytherins that liked to bother me. I guess I got used to carrying it.”
All amusement drops from his face, eyes flooding with concern. “But I thought you were mates with Snape.”
“Yeah well,” she sighs, “we’ve both seen Snape’s track record for sticking up for me.”
She waits for a cutting jab at Severus’ expense but he gives none. 
“Thanks for this,” he says and reaches the vial back out.
“No, you keep it.” She doesn’t know what compels her, but she gives him the first genuine smile in years, “I’m sure you can find better use for it.”
The smile he offers back feels warm, real. 
“Thank Evans,” he says as he slips the vial into his pocket.
“Remus will love it.”
* * * * *
For once, and unfortunately so, she finds him completely visible.
“Ah don’t be such a puss Evans. James was just escorting me back to my dorms.” 
She finds the two walking down past the kitchens, easily detected by the way Olivia’s voice bounces off the cold stone of the corridors.They weren’t touching when she caught sight of them, but as she approaches, Olivia clasps onto James’ limp arm, giggling with a coy smile.
“Don’t know if you can read a clock, but whatever you could have possibly been doing to need an escort was already past curfew.”
James shifts his weight, being more silent than she has ever seen him in five years combined. Olivia gives another high pitched giggle, tightening her hold on his arm. 
“Sorry Evans, we were just busy. Lost track of time y’know?” Lily can feel her dinner resurfacing in the back of her throat.
“Well, I don’t care to know about your extracurriculars,” she turns her head, hoping to mask the flush she can feel on her cheeks, “it’s still twenty points each and a round of detention.”
James raises his head and eyes her with a curiosity that she is unwilling to acknowledge. Beside him, Olivia feigns a pout.
“Ah, bugger. Well, I guess that means we will be seeing each other again, right James?” 
Lily’s eyes flick over to him. His curiosity has settled into a tense stare, eyes blown out and focused solely on her. 
“Er, probably not,” he says with a wooden tone. Olivia’s eyes narrow, her fingers uncurling slightly from his bicep but not letting go. 
As per protocol, she escorts them the short distance to the Hufflepuff dorm which they do in silence. Olivia keeps herself attached to James’ arm, but he gives no reciprocation, letting it swing loose at his side. At the entrance, Olivia casts another hopeful glance at him, expecting some form of goodnight, but he remains distant, pulling his arm away from hers like removing an annoying arm brace. With a huff, Olivia ducks into the common room without as much as a goodbye. 
With Olivia gone, it’s business as usual and Lily escorts James back to the tower like she’s done so many nights already. But instead of the teasing, the idle small talk, the quippy banter, James remains quiet, their steps echoing through the halls. 
Even in the silence, even with James’ new pensive behavior, Lily feels lighter with Olivia gone. She steals a glance at him and she can see there is red blotching under the rims of his glasses, eyes focused only ahead at the darkness. A sick part of her wants to demand what he was doing with Olivia– wants to hear it even if she knows her stomach will fill with bile from the answer.
“I really was just walking her back.” His voice cuts through the silence, clear and firm. 
So maybe he is a mind reader now. 
Like him, she doesn’t stop walking. “Bad luck Potter. Maybe next time choose a snog partner who can be a little quieter.” She means to tease, but her voice is cutting, filled with a malice she didn’t realize she was holding. 
He stops and she feels fingers curl against her elbow. For the first time that night, their eyes lock. 
“I wasn’t going to snog her.”
She ignores the feeling that her heart is about to take flight and searches his face for a glimmer of sarcasm.
“Coming from you, a serial liar, it's hard to believe.” She snorts.
“But I’ve never lied to you.”
She doesn’t know what to say. Suddenly, the corridor becomes very hot, the hand still holding her by the elbow now constrictive.
“Whatever, just drop it Potter, It’s really none of my business.”
And he does drop it, letting go of her elbow and taking a few strides in front of her. She rushes to catch up, wondering who is leading who back to the dorms now. 
Their newfound silence and the change in power dynamic makes something like anger take form, twisting her guts into a perilous place of recklessness. 
“Y’know, you could do a lot better than Olivia Gueresso.” She waits for a physical reaction but nothing comes. 
“Well it’s not like you're interested.” He says. His voice is so low and so quick she almost misses it. Almost.
“Potter–” she warns, but James is already bounding through the portrait, hand passing through his hair. She follows him down the tunnel, footsteps echoing around them.
 She doesn’t know what else she wants from him, but if they reach the firelight of the common room it will be too late. 
“Hey, Potter,” she calls louder and the sound bounces. He turns quickly on his heel and Lily runs straight into him, ricocheting back against his chest. Two calloused hands steady her by her shoulders. 
“You know Evans, you’re really lovely in the candlelight.”
It’s that look again. His eyes glazed on her like there is nothing else in existence. It’s the second time he has touched her that hour but this time it feels familiar, perhaps even welcome. 
“What are you—”
But the light of the fireplace takes him. He lopes away up to his dorm, not even giving a goodnight. 
* * * * *
Sixth Year
He wants to be caught. 
Like normal, he steps out of the shadows but it no longer jars her like it did back in fifth. She hadn’t gotten a good look at him at the welcome ceremony but now she can see he has grown over summer. His body is somehow more lean and muscular all at once; his hair wilder, curling farther down his neck. Instead of his typical urge to immediately run a hand through it the second he spots her, his arms stay casual by his sides. 
“Trying to be awarded the first detention of the year, Potter?” She says cooly, but her heart is already betraying her—something it’s been doing more and more often as her thoughts drifted to him over the summer. 
“If it’s from you, it would be an honor.” His grin grows, his dimple more pronounced. 
Lily attempts to scoff, but finds it much more bearable to avert her eyes. Maybe he had stumbled into some good candlelight, but the longer he remains in front of her the more it’s clear what’s so different about him: he is now infuriatingly fit. 
“Ok–so where’s the gang? Might as well give it up since you are getting detention no matter what.”
His smile doesn’t waver. “No gang-–I’m solo tonight.”
She dares to look him in the eyes, ignoring the whooshing feeling in her chest. He’s telling the truth. 
“Alright, so what? You gonna get early revenge on the Slytherins by yourself?”
He makes a humming noise and his cheeks start to take on a bit more color. 
“No– actually I just wanted to see you.”
It stops all of her thoughts dead. Something about how a small blush colors his cheeks makes her heart beat a bit faster.
“And you couldn’t see me at dinner or in the common room like a normal person?” 
“Yeah well, it’s not like any of our mates would act normal if I tried to ask about your summer over the welcome feast,” he mumbles, running his hand through his hair, now clearly a move of anxiety more than arrogance.
She takes a small step towards him. “That’s really what you want, Potter? You broke school rules on night one to ask me about my holidays?”
“I mean—-yes?” He rubs a hand through his hair again, eyes starting to shift away. A rush of something that resembles pride takes over her. James Potter is feeling sheepish because of me.
She lets him stew for a minute, mostly to take in the rare power she is wielding before giving him a smirk. 
“So do it.”
“Do what?” James gives her an incredulous look, face now so red he could have been slapped. 
“Ask about my summer—or did you already forget that’s what you are here for?” 
It takes a second, but a grin breaks out on his face, returning him back to form. “Alright Evans—how was your summer?”
Lily hums clasping her hands behind her back. “Well my dad died so—”
“Bloody hell,” James runs both hands through his air, all facial features frozen in complete shock. “I mean, Godric, Evans I’m so sorry–that’s…that’s…”
Lily waves a hand in dismissal to distract from any emotion that could be peaking on her face. 
“Eh, don’t worry about it. He was a raging arsehole anyways.”
He looks at her, eyes wide and fixated. “Yeah but still—is your mum ok?”
She looks down the hall, trying to stay nonchalant. “Yeah, I mean she’s fine—seeing as she’s been dead since fourth year.”
“Godric Fuck.” He does a quick spin on his heels, taking a step away from her with his head in his hands before turning back.
“I’m– shit--How did I not know this?”
Lily frowns at him, tilting her head. “What do you mean? It’s not like we’re close or anything.”
Something about saying that feels false but she pushes the thought away.
He shakes his head. “Yeah, but we’ve been in the same class, same house since we were eleven. I reckon I’d at least know something—something like that.”
She finds it quite endearing that he reels from this—that they could cohabitate in the same space for so long without knowing the most basic facts about the other. He continues to rub his face in his hands, looking more tortured by the second. 
“Well, to be fair, I don’t know anything about your family either.” She offers.
He straightens up a bit, sensing her attempt to level the playing field. A glimmer of discomfort still sits in his eyes and despite her being the one newly orphaned, she feels a pull to comfort him. 
“Well go on,” she prods, hoping to shift attention away from her, “Tell me about yours. I know they are purebloods…”
He raises an eyebrow, wary to move away from her loss, but letting her take the lead. 
“There’s not much to say—”
 Lily bats her eyes, urging him forward. He sighs.
 “They are still together and disgustingly still in love, which I guess I should appreciate.”
It makes her giggle, thinking about some old wizarding couple making kissing faces while James feigns puking in the corner. His shoulders relax further, leaning into her amusement. 
“And?” 
“And—I dunno. They’re barking mad but I love them. I’m an only child so I imagine you understand now why I’m like this.” He makes a rare self-deprecating gesture towards himself, something the James from a year ago would never have done. It makes Lily break into a real laugh. 
“And this,” Lily mirrors his gesture, “meaning…”
James grins, and it does something downright delectable to her heart. “This meaning an arrogant git who is too thick to notice other people’s personal lives.” 
It is a sentiment she would have agreed with a thousand times in the past, but hearing it from him now makes her reconsider. It might have been true a year ago, but the boy standing in front of her is decidedly changed—for one she likes standing next to him in the dark corridor. 
But she can’t say that.
“Your words.” She doesn’t elaborate but she offers him a real smile, not one with any edge to it and he returns it. 
“Yeah,Evans. My words.”
* * * * *
It starts a sort of friendship between them.  
He learns her schedule quickly, finding her in various places of the castle on any given day. She questions him about how he does it: disappears and reappears, knows exactly where she’s going to be despite intentionally changing her route to confuse him— but he never answers more than a teasing finger wag. “I’ll never reveal my secrets–you know that Evans.”
He no longer hides from her but hides from the others to get to her. Once found, he appears as usual but with conversation already on his lips. He asks about her life, about the muggle world, about music and films and anything that he can think of—making good on all the lost time in the past six years they have been so close but knew nothing of each other. In turn, she does the same: she finds out that Sirius moved in with the Potters, that his dad is celebrated for a hair taming potion that miraculously doesn’t work on his own son (“I swear, it’s my genes Evans, it openly rejects the stuff—I can’t help it.”), that he likes autumn and quidditch in the rain and the color green…
And she is surprised how much she starts to look forward to it. Time has treated him well, the looming war knocking more sense into him than previous years. Instead of being arrogant and self serving, he listens intently, hanging on her every word. They talk passionately about the rising conflict with blood purity and their shared disdain for the dark arts, life after school, their fears for the future. They have more light-hearted moments too: he charms the corridors to play music, daring to take her hand and dance down the hall, brings her a bit of warm bread with cinnamon and sugar from the kitchens, and consistently offers her silly anecdotes that make her laugh harder than she thinks she ever has in her life. Even the silence is comfortable—warm and encompassing like she imagines his physical touch would be if one of them just made the move…
“God, I love Halloween.”
 They sit inside a bay window in the charms corridor, pulling out candy from a plastic bucket shaped like a grinning jack-o-lantern.
“Alright Evans, what in Godric's green potion is this bloody candy?” He holds up a package of candy corn and she giggles, snapping it out of his hands. 
“Don’t act like you’re too good for muggle candy—we both know how disgusting the wizarding stuff can be.”
James feigns aghast, clenching his chest. “Do you mean to tell me you don’t like bogey flavored sugar beans–how could you Evans? An outrage!” 
She lets out a real laugh, one that makes her head tilt back. He’s been making her do that more with each meeting and every time she does the same look crosses his face: one of triumph mixed with something tender.
“Here, just try one—I swear it can’t be worse than anything you’ve already tasted.”
His eyes squint in a mischievous way, turning his head back and forth like a baby refusing a spoon. 
“Nope, no way.” 
She leans over more, encroaching into his personal space to poke his tightened mouth with the tip of the candy. 
“C’mon Potter? Where’s your courage? Your sense of adventure? Your—”
He opens his mouth, sucking in the piece. Her hand falls to his lips, feeling the warm press of his tongue on the pads of her fingers. 
She jerks back, her face blazing hot. Something burning and raw takes over her senses, flooding all vision. 
“Sorry,” he sputters, trying to not choke through his flustering, “I didn’t–”
She doesn’t wait to talk herself out of it. She leans back in, pressing the soft line of her lips to his. His mouth immediately molds into hers. Eager and warm, he tastes like sugar and something unmistakably him. 
“I’m sorry,” she says when she pulls up for air, “ I just wanted to know…we don’t have to—,” but a calloused hand cups her cheek, pulling her mouth back to skim over his. 
“I don’t want your apology,” he whispers and the heat of his breath makes the room spin, “but I would like you to kiss me again.”
Her mouth is already opening, slotting into place with his. He sighs into her and she can’t think of a more wonderful sound in the world. 
“Alright Potter, I’ll allow it.”
* * * * *
“Are you sure they can’t see us?” It comes out more as a pant than a sentence. James’ lips are working down her neck, hands taking advantage of her open shirt to explore undiscovered skin. 
He hardly lifts his mouth and her body reacts to the heat of his breath, arching forwards into him for more. 
“We can go somewhere else...”
Her mind is screaming a loud, resounding yes, but the clock is telling her she still has an hour of patrols. She forces her eyes open. Looking past the hazy screen of James’ cloak she can see the portraits sleeping soundly as though they never existed. Between the discovery of an invisibility cloak and the feel of James' body against hers, it's too much for her to take in at once. 
He lets out a sigh and she feels the words so lovely being mouthed into her skin. Everything is crackling around her, the world disappearing besides him and his hands and his tongue now dragging lower…
“Tomorrow,” she gasps. “Find me tomorrow right when I get off patrol—-then take me anywhere you want.”
James detaches his mouth and looks up at her, his swollen lips hung open in wonder. 
“Does that mean we need to stop today?”
He tries to pull back, but she grips onto him, not ready to lose the hard line of his body against hers just yet. There’s still an hour left of patrols, but is it not still patrolling if she can see the corridor?
She pushes up on her toes to capture his mouth again, their lips slanting together in hot melding kisses. 
“No–never stop.”
* * * * *
It turns out James Potter can actually follow directions. The next night he shows up with only five minutes left of patrols to spare and they don’t waste a second to slot together, making good on the promise to go wherever he pleases.
Over time her speculation of his invisibility cloak lessens, almost preferring the danger of it to the dingy passageways and small alcoves that he pulls her into each night. But she will take whatever she can get—waiting impatiently through her patrols for that moment when he slides out of the darkness to pull her back in with him. 
In the safety of the cloak or the darkness of some secret hiding spot, she feels a hunger she has never experienced. It’s almost pavlovian in nature—the second the clock nears eleven, her body vibrates at the thought of him, prickling under the anticipation of his touch. When reunited, they wedge together like two pieces of the same stone, hands and mouths frantic and roaming, words coming out in soft sighs and quiet pants that rise into the air like smoke. 
Patrols are no longer enough and nights feel achingly short for the amount of desire they have for each other. Their meetings start to seep into the daytime— ending up in the same passageways and closets but now with the added danger of roaming students and curious friends. During classes, they steal glances and sometimes dare to sit beside each other to let hands travel deliciously out of sight. When no one is looking, they pass notes between classes, trying to convey all the sweeping emotions into tiny phrases like I can’t wait to see you, I need you, you are so lovely, you make me so happy.
It stays like this for days, then weeks. Him always coming to find her, her letting him take the world away. Their time together always a sure thing.
Until it isn’t. 
A quarter past eleven and he hasn’t shown up. She stands in the hall, one of the many recurring places he has found in her the past couple weeks. Her body still vibrates on cue, hungry to feel the scrape of his hands on her, but mentally she knows that something seems wrong.
Would it be impossible for him to not come?
Hearing a noise echo down the hall she turns on her heel, excitement flooding her cheeks, but instead of James loping out of the shadows, someone else stands there, face twisted like a predator hunting prey. 
“You look happy to see me.” Antonin Dolohov purrs out, his eyes scanning down her body with a salacious grin.
“It’s past curfew Dolohov. That’s 20 points and two days detention.” She doesn't let his lewd gaze affect her, keeping her chin high while her hand hovers over her wand pocket. 
“Detention,” he tuts, “I much prefer doing the detaining if you catch my drift, but I’m interested in how a mudblood like you plans to go about it.”
He takes a step forward and Lily pulls out her wand, pointing it straight between his eyes. 
“Enough.”
His smile twists again, nonplussed by the threat. “ I see why Snape has always had such a hard on for you, Evans. You are a pretty girl for a mudblood. Why don’t you be a good little girl and get on your knees for me like you do to keep old Slughorn—
“Stupefy.”
She doesn’t even blink. The proximity of her wand to his forehead makes him knock back and he lands with a thud on the ground. The anger and fear that has been mounting since he appeared boils over and rushes out of her, her wand hand moving on its own accord. She can hear herself as though through a tunnel, hitting Dolohov’s motionless body with spell after spell, each one landing and sizzling into him like a lightning rod. Tears fall hot and globbing on her cheeks. 
Lily! Lily!
She feels strong and familiar arms wrap around her, pulling the wand out of her hand and throwing it to the ground. She makes heaving noises, pushing away from James as he wrestles her in his arms, trying to reach her through the fury. 
“Lily, that’s enough, You have to stop.”
But something inside her doesn’t want to stop. Her time with James has been a good distraction, but she is tired. Tired of the blood purity talks, tired of the endless bullying and spiteful words, tired of forever being a freak no matter what she does and no matter how much she tries to prove herself. Her prefect badge, her good grades, her perfect transitions from one world to the next will never be enough, because people like Dolohov won’t let it. 
 Her legs give out, letting the tears fall in choked sobs. James collapses on the ground with her, pushing her head into his chest, letting his shirt become soaked through.
“You didn’t come…” She cries out. It’s the smallest of the things on her mind, but it’s the only one she can accurately put into words. 
“I know, I’m sorry, I was just coming to find you—-Sirius’ mum had sent him a howler and–”
“So now you're selfish too,” she hisses to herself. Pushing herself into him more, she tries to calm the animal noises that keep spilling from her mouth. From behind them, Dolohov groans, some of the hexes starting to wear off. 
“Lily, I need you to breathe. We need to get out of here—did he touch you?” He pulls back to surveille her.
She is still taking ragged, shallow breaths, eyes burning from the salt of her tears. Sounds echo from down the corridor and James quickly scrambles to pull her into his arms, hoisting her into a cradle against his chest. 
Like always, they disappear together, this time behind a tapestry where there is enough room for them to spread out—though they don’t.
“It’s alright–I’m right here.”
She clings to him, and he continues to whisper comforting words, caressing her hair, her ears, her neck. Finally, she drifts off to sleep, the smell of him and the rhythm of his breathing the only thing tethering her from some sort of madness. 
* * * * *
Seventh Year
“Lily, please–”
But she keeps walking down the corridor, actively looking in directions that are anywhere but at him. 
“I’m not going to give up. Why did you stop answering my letters? Everything was so—so perfect…”
It had been. The summer days were spent writing letters back and forth, exchanging photos, filling in for time spent apart. At first they had to come up with creative excuses to see each other without anyone finding out (“Oh, well I was just thought a quick run to Diagon Alley would be nice.”) before Dumbledore gifted them with the greatest excuse of all (“Sirius, you’ll be at your Uncle’s, yeah? Lily is popping in to do some Heads’ planning—don’t worry, it will be more of a chore…”).
The days they spent that summer bouncing between each other’s houses were some of the best she had ever experienced. Safe from the wandering eyes of classmates, they held hands openly, caressed each other without shame, and spoke admiringly for the first time in normal speaking voices. They snuck into the other’s house at night, crawling into the other’s bed unable to wait the days or hours to press together again, unable to bear wasting another second without their breaths intertwining, bodies always unimaginably hungry for the other’s touch. 
But then there was silence. 
“Is it about the sex? Because we can go back to taking things slow I don’t–”
“Of course it’s not about the bloody sex,” she spits out, unable to contain her shock. “That—that was incredible but–”
“But what? Lily, I’m going mad. Ask Sirius–I've nearly burrowed a path into my sitting room floor from all the pacing I did in the last week.”
She doesn’t want to look him in the eye because she knows if she does he will see it all: Snape coming to her door, warning her about the Dark Lord’s rising, his plan to kill anyone who is a traitor to his cause…
If I did something, I will fix it, I swear,” his voice cracks, tears on the brink of falling, “I just…really need you back. I miss you.”
This time it’s her turn to disappear. She continues walking down the hall, snuffing out her wand light so he is left in the dark. 
* * * *
He isn’t looking for her, but he gravitates towards her anyway.
He was lucky he didn’t miss her entirely. Way up in the highest rung of the stands, the light of the stars betray her by reflecting auburn hair like a beacon. He knows it’s only self-sabotage at this point to approach, having spent exactly two weeks now with no communication whatsoever, but he does it anyway because he can see her shivering from all the way down on the pitch—and because he has never been able to resist her, even now. 
“It’s too cold to be out here like that.” 
He takes off his quidditch cloak and offers it to her, but she doesn’t even look at it, staring off into the distance. 
Taking her silence as an invitation, he sits, leaving enough distance between them to show his caution. Just like in the candlelit corridors, the light from the stars mingle with the color of her eyes, making them glimmer like jewels on her face. It takes everything in his body not to reach for her, fearing that the sparkle will subside the minute he does. 
“There’s a war out there,” she says, her voice hollow and cold like the wind. 
“Yeah, so I’ve heard.”
There’s silence again. The wind cuts through the stands and brushes her hair up into the air like fire dancing. 
“The potions master I applied to apprentice under owled back today—he says he won’t accept my application because I’m a mudblood.”
His head jerks in her direction. He has never heard her say that word before. Instinctively his hands clench at his sides, anger like waves in his chest. 
“Then he doesn’t deserve you, the tosser—-People should be lining up to work with you, you’re bloody brilliant.” He means every word, and he can tell she knows he means it too. A small, pitiful smile tugs at her lips. 
“Bloody brilliant doesn’t change my birth—might as well revert back to a muggle at this rate…”
He doesn’t want to hear anymore. He stands and forces himself in front of her and she looks up at him with a deep, pained look.
“What has gotten into you? The Evans I know wouldn’t say shite like this. The Evans I love wouldn’t—”
He stops cold, watching her catch the word before he does. Love. The Evans he loves. 
“You don’t want to love me,” she whispers, tears falling hot now against her cheeks. 
“But I do—” It comes out as a gasp, the suffering of two weeks without her pouring out of him like a broken dam. “Is this what it’s all about? That you’ve decided you aren’t good enough?”
“I’m not though,” her voice rises, face twisting into a sob. “I’m not good enough for the bloody wizarding or muggle world, not good enough to find work after school, not good enough for you.” 
The last word comes biting out and James freezes in place, feeling as though he has been stunned. 
“Lily, what are you talking about? When have I ever, ever said you aren’t good enough for me.”
Her eyes dart around, hands thrashing to remove the tears that keep coming. 
“You don’t have to say it. You’re a pureblood—I’ve heard the talk. The death eaters will come to your family eventually and ask for support. If I’m with you…” a sob cuts off her words. She stands up, preparing to bolt but he grabs her by the forearm, holding her there with the wind tugging at her hair. 
“If you’re with me than fuck them.”
The tears make her eyes glimmer but not in the way he wants to see them. He expects her to try to run again, but she doesn’t. 
“Lily, I don’t care. I don’t care. You could be half troll and I would still want to be with you. Don’t you see? This is what they want, for you to be afraid—to give up.”
He takes the chance to slide a hand onto her cheek, wiping away some of the tears she has failed to stop. 
“I–I love you, Lily. And if you don’t want that because you don’t feel it back, then I will disappear. But if you don’t want it because you are scared then…then I won’t accept that.”
He searches her eyes, wondering if he is making the biggest mistake of his life by pushing her. She looks back and even with all the pain he can’t stop thinking about how absolutely lovely she looks in the moonlight. Her hair, her eyes—even the tears. He burns the image into his memory, knowing that even if it’s the last night next to her, at least he will have her beauty in this moment forever. 
“I don’t want you to disappear.” 
The wind carries her voice and places it right into his beating heart, suddenly as warm as sunlight. 
“I don’t want you to disappear, because I love you too.”
* * * *
Now, they disappear into each other. Instead of dimly lit corridors, he pulls her into a kiss the second she leaves class. Whispers and hidden notes are replaced with laughter and shrieks of joy as he lifts her up and spins her after a quidditch game, not caring to even glimpse at the house cup. In the sunlight by the lake they tangle together, studying, laughing, snogging–especially snogging, making up for all the lost time in the weeks they were apart and for all the other years they could have been together. The night becomes a special place—one of nostalgia and hope. Instead of meeting in grimy alcoves, she follows his lead to his bed where they slot together like two pieces if a whole, trying to meld back as one. 
He was always a beacon of light in the darkness, but in the sunlight he is breathtaking. Always a presence of comfort and joy and love. So much love that she wonders if she had ever felt it before—not even the love of family could compare to what  he is capable of showing her. She gives it back tenfold, keeping him impossibly close and hoping she will never have to let go. 
“James–you can’t just hide.”
It’s odd to see the shimmering movement of the cloak in the daylight. A muffled voice calls out from where he was just next to her, sheepish and frantic.
“Don’t mind me—just completely turned to dust from embarrassment.”
A smile cracks on her lips, her heart makes fluttering beats in her chest.
“You don’t have to answer me today—-or at all. We could just pretend it never happened.”
She reaches out towards where his voice is coming from, but hears his feet move back on the grass. 
“James,” she sighs, “ I was going to say yes.”
It hangs in the air. She can practically feel his heartbeat from whatever distance away he stands hiding. 
“So, if you would stop freaking out–” she adds, cheeks filling with pink, “I’d really like to kiss my new fiancé.”
His head pops out, floating detached in front of her. It would remind her of the first time she ever caught him past curfew, but instead of a mischievous grin, his face is flush and eyes blown wide. 
“I’m not freaking out,” he murmurs, “But—just to be sure, did just call me your fiancé?”
She moves quickly, grabbing hold of the cloak and pulling herself under into his arms. She can feel his body buzzing against hers, fingers moving in shock to wrap around her body. 
“Yes, I did,” she says, pressing her lips into his. “And yes, I will marry you.”
If the cloak falls away, they don’t notice. He picks her up and she wraps herself around him, the warmth of his skin and the May sunlight working in tandem. His shock has worn off and he kisses her in earnest, and she is more than happy to reciprocate. 
They could have stayed like that for hours, days—it didn’t matter anymore. With him, everything else disappears. 
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While Marcy miraculously staying in LA after the events of Amphibia """misses the point""" and """ruins the story""", my most self indulgent side NEEDS to see these three together in Highschool. I need Sasha being a bit of a mean girl especially to people who look at her girls weird. Yes she HAS spread people's secrets yes she HAS destroyed the self-esteem of countless boys yes she HAS gotten half the cheerleading squad kicked out while jumping through all the moral loopholes imaginable to be juuust on the side of chaotic good and not chaotic neutral. All because they said something mean about the time Marcy freaked out like a baby over a blackout, or because they mocked the food Anne brought from home. Need Anne being surprisingly popular, a big sports girly, seeing her two girls cheering for her during her games - one of them as an actual cheerleader, the other with big signs and maybe a trumpet or something. Need Marcy with her weak nerdy legs (and lingering nerve damage oops) asking Sasha for piggyback rides on the way home, discussing anime and FPS videogames with her while Anne carries her backpack, phone in her free hand, waiting for those two to be distracted so she can snap a picture.
I want them to be so uncommonly affectionate with each other in school, that everyone finds them kinda weird but their families have given very explicit Do Not Separate orders so the teachers let them be. They've been through a lot. Doesn't stop the cheerleading squad laughing at Sasha and questioning how come she'd rather hang out with her two kindergarden friends - one being cringe and nerdy and the other being dumber than a bag of rocks - instead of dating any of the cute boys that always ask her out, or how come she always cancels plans on them as soon as one of her girls calls. Sasha will make sure to teach them not to question her in the future.
The teachers quickly realize Marcy's potential but also notice she only hangs out with two girls who are pretty lazy and are barely passing their classes, and they wonder if they're using her to get good grades. Those two do seem to fit the stereotype of the jock and the mean girl taking a nerd under their wing to make them do their homework. Marcy does help them study, but she doesn't lose sleep over it - she knows they're smart and they'll figure it out, she's just there for a little encouragement. They just haven't seen the care and concern with which they hold her when her chest starts burning all of a sudden, how they race after her to the bathroom whenever she's feeling unwell, how protectively they cuddle her at sleepovers.
Anne has her own group of jock friends separate from Marcy and Sasha, and they get along fine, but they're beginning to think it's odd that she turns down every boy that asks her out, while lighting up like a flower in the sun whenever she gets a call from one of her girls. They ask her about it at one point, and all she says is "I don't really think I want a boyfriend. These two already take enough of my time", with a fond smile and a tender tone of voice that might make you think there's more to it if you had any idea of the concept of consensual non-monogamy, or lesbians. But you're a teenage boy so what you think is more along the lines of "wow they seem like very good friends".
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tomorrowxtogether · 1 day ago
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SOOBIN: “I thought I should just try to shine as I am.”
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TOMORROW X TOGETHER The Star Chapter: SANCTUARY comeback interview
2024.11.11
He once strived to become a lush, towering forest. But he realized that people will love him for exactly what he is—a deep, rolling ocean. And so, he decided to remain as whom he always has been: an ocean named SOOBIN.
You took a trip to Vietnam earlier this year with BEOMGYU. I heard you planned the whole thing. SOOBIN: I’m usually the kind of person who just goes around without a real plan, but since we don’t get much vacation time, I figured we’d better go all out and do everything we could in one go, so I tried planning it all out. (laughs) BEOMGYU just wanted to go with the flow, but there was a ton of stuff I wanted to do.
I’m sure it’s not easy taking a trip or spending your off time with the same people you spend all your time with. SOOBIN: I hang out a lot with the rest of the group on my own time too, though. Three of us were all hanging out together just yesterday. To be perfectly honest, it doesn’t feel like anything special since we’re always together 365 days a year, but I’m also most comfortable around them for the same reason.
Sometimes people start bickering with each other when they get too comfortable with one another, but you’re always so kind—like how you gifted BEOMGYU with a nap in that “The Perfect Way to Rest” video when you remembered he was feeling tired. SOOBIN: I think I’m good at picking up on things. I don’t know if I can do it with everyone, but at least with the other members of the group, I’m pretty good at telling how they’re feeling or if they’re not feeling well. As soon as I see one of them, I can tell, Oh, he looks a little rough today, or, He’s sure in a good mood today. (laughs) If they seem down, I go over to them to find out what’s wrong and talk it over.
Your kindness also comes across when you’re with animals, like in the “OUR TOMORROW” video, where you took care of one dog who was so nervous that it didn’t get a chance to eat any treats. Have you always been drawn to people and creatures that are small and left out? SOOBIN: So, so much. In fact, I was really shy and struggled to fit in when I was a trainee. I was really lonely at first. So when time passed and I finally got accustomed to things, if I saw another trainee who was shy and couldn’t adjust, I felt like looking out for them. Kai was among them. (laughs) That’s how I ended up becoming really close with him.
You talked about the cat your sister adopted recently, explaining how it used to be shy because it had a hard life in the past but that it finally opened up this year. SOOBIN: I went to see the cat when my sister first got it, but I couldn’t even see it that first time—it just hid under the couch. It was so shy that I thought I’d never get to pet it, but the last time I saw it, it came right up to me and started purring, wanting to be petted. It was able to overcome its painful past and open up to my family thanks to all the love they show looking after it. Love really does have the power to change anything. (laughs)
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You also said on weverse LIVE recently that you made a new friend who you can talk about dramas, movies, and books with. SOOBIN: For me, dramas and movies don’t end with watching them—after you’re done watching, that’s when things are just getting started. I always look up reviews and analyses online. People can watch the same thing and they’ll all have their own thoughts on it, so I’m curious about all those different views, and now I have someone to talk about that with. They know a lot more about books and movies than I do, so I end up learning a lot when we’re sharing our thoughts together. Just having a friend to share my interests with is really fun.
You mentioned talking about Inside Out 2, and you looked at how it features a place to store things you’ve heard that you want to keep for a long time, which got you thinking about what sort of things you would want to hold onto. SOOBIN: I kept recalling things my friends say after we hang out—things like, “SOOBIN, I’m so happy we’re friends,” and, “I feel great whenever I’m with you.” Hearing things like that really touches my heart. Seriously, how often do you get to hear things like that in life? I used to find expressing things like that awkward and weird, but thanks to my friends, I’m getting used to saying I love and appreciate people. You empathized with how Anxiety works harder and feels more anxious than others because they want to be good at things. Are there things you feel you should work harder at than other people? SOOBIN: I’m actually slower at learning choreography compared to the other members. I assumed I’d get a lot better after debuting and regularly performing onstage, but progress was slower than I expected. I didn’t say anything about this before, and I even kept it a secret from the other members, but I actually got separate choreo lessons on the side when we were doing “Chasing That Feeling” and “Deja Vu.” We’d take lessons as a group, and then once I was alone I’d always spend about an hour dancing and working on the little details. I tried so hard with those two most recent songs that I even practiced on my own like that. Seeing as I’m slow, I have to work harder to keep up with the other members. If I have more time, I want to practice more for this comeback, too.
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With all the touring you’ve done and the encore performances you have coming up, it must’ve been really hectic getting ready for your Star Chapter: SANCTUARY comeback. SOOBIN: The schedule was really tight this time around—we even had to record vocals in Japan in the middle of the tour since we were in and out of the country—but now that we’re in our sixth year, the five of us were all really fast about things. I could sense that we had grown compared to before since we were faster at recording than we could’ve expected to be in the past and it took us less time to work out the details of the choreography.
The album’s subtitle, SANCTUARY, is a word that’s appeared in TOMORROW X TOGETHER albums before. What’s been your sanctuary these days? SOOBIN: I never used to have a sanctuary, which made getting through tough times hard, but I do now: simple things like working out or reading. It feels like the things that break me away from overthinking and let me immerse myself in something else are my sanctuary.
You were complimented on your previous promotions for your improved vocals and high notes. What about on this album? SOOBIN: Actually, every other album we’ve done had a song in a genre I wasn’t confident in, but not this time. The single “Over The Moon” is really laid-back, and I felt like it was perfect timing for us to try out a song like that. What’s unfortunate is that I caught this horrendous cold during recording. We started practicing for live performances recently, and the director said, “SOOBIN’s singing better than he did when recording. He makes it sound effortless.” So I couldn’t help but think about how much better I could’ve done if only my throat had been in better shape.
You always focus a lot on lyrics. Were there any on this album that have stuck with you in particular? SOOBIN: This album isn’t so much about telling some big, sweeping story as it is about everything we’ve been through together. Now that we’ve been through all that chaos, it’s about the universal emotion of love, which everyone can relate to, and I liked that about it. There’s a line in “Higher Than Heaven” that sticks with me that goes, “I think I kinda get what forever means now.” I even once said, “I never used to believe in the word ‘forever,’ but I think I can now, thanks to our fans.” I didn’t write that part, but it’s like it was written to perfectly capture my feelings.
The other members have probably had an impact on your belief in the word “forever,” too. SOOBIN: I’m pretty sure we’re going to grow old together and that we’ll be together till the day I die. We do the same thing and basically live the same life day in and day out, so we know what makes each other cry the most during concerts, too. Whether it’s my tears of happiness or BEOMGYU’s tears of disappointment from a leg injury, having friends to understand and share those feelings with is nice. They’re all just really kind people—calm and clear, like a stream. None of us is domineering or splashing around, disturbing the peace, and nobody’s dirtying the water, so I think we’ll be able to stick together for a long, long time.
You said before that you had found being onstage tough while touring. Now that you’ve already wrapped up your third world tour, do you still find that to be the case? SOOBIN: I think I’m getting better over time. I still can’t say that I completely enjoy myself, but the worries I used to have before going onstage have gone away entirely. There used to be times where I found it hard to watch myself onstage because I didn’t like how I looked, but now I see myself up there and I think I look cool. (laughs)
The way you have a different outfit on for every sound check when you’re on tour is definitely cool. SOOBIN: For fans who come even though they’re busy, showing up hours before the concert just to wait, doing it purely out of love, I wanted to be more stylish, so I bought a lot of clothes just for sound checks. The glasses-plus-cardigan combo was something I bought in advance for summer, and the reaction from the audience was amazing! They showed me on the big screen and MOA was screaming their lungs out—like, not the usual “wow,” but, “aah!” Like shock and awe. (laughs) I was worried I went overboard with the look, but they showed they liked it, so I was happy.
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There’s no way not to bring up your cover of the Choi Yu Ree song “Forest” when talking about you. You said that the people around you are like tall trees in a forest and that you thought you’re one of them, but that you figured out you’re actually more like the ocean. SOOBIN: It’s easy to find people around me who are better looking and sing and dance better than I do. I actually started thinking about that at Lollapalooza. The other members looked so happy and like they were having so much fun onstage, but I couldn’t. I felt eaten up inside seeing myself not being able to fully enjoy it because of all the pressure. Then I heard Choi Yu Ree explaining that “Forest” is about feeling like you’re not good enough and I thought, “Ah, so that’s what I’ve been going through.” I started to understand my emotions a little bit better. Everyone ends up comparing themselves to others at some point in their lives—it’s unavoidable. And they have times where all they can see are the things they hate about themselves, but it’s ridiculous. I was overflowing with negative feelings when I was working on my “Forest” cover, and I wanted to sort of deal with those feelings and express them.
The music video echoes your thoughts that someday you’ll come to shore and become one with the forest. What does the forest mean to you? SOOBIN: Just being a singer who’s good at singing and dancing, interacting with my fans, enjoying performing, and being able to do it all with complete sincerity. I think I was showing how the forest to me means being happy with the other members when they’re happy. Nothing big—just simple things I’m not always that good at.
Do you feel more like a forest now that some time has gone by? SOOBIN: Umm … I saw a ton of comments from fans after I covered “Forest.” My mindset when I was doing it was, Right now I’m like the ocean, but I’ll become a part of the forest just like you guys—so wait for me until then. But once I saw what fans were writing, I changed my mind and thought, Do I really need to become a part of the forest? I could be similar to the forest, but I don’t have to change myself to be one. My fans kept saying, “The whole reason we liked you in the first place is because you’re like the ocean, not because we hoped you’d become like a forest. If that were the case, we’d like somebody else. Why do you think it was you?” The ocean comes with its own perks, you know. You need to have some ocean near a forest to add to the scenery and have more things to do. Now I think maybe I tried too hard to fit in by trying to be like the forest. Now I feel like I can shine bright just by being myself.
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That lines up with what you recently said in an interview you did in Japan when you said that your 20s, the best and most energetic time of life, are dazzling and fun thanks to knowing MOA. What do you think you’ll see when you look back on this youthful period of your 20s? SOOBIN: Joy. Every moment of our lives is packed with good times and bad times, joy and sorrow, but in the end, I think, I’m on a path towards joy. Even things that are so agonizing that you want to die—so bad you feel like the whole world is against you, and so bad you’re certain they’re weighing on you forever, eventually pass.
Doesn’t it almost feel funny sometimes, looking back after all that? (laughs) SOOBIN: Yes. It ends up feeling so trivial somehow. Things that felt massive at the time are like a speck in the distance once you get even a little space between them and yourself. Even after all the hardship I went through being a trainee, I can look back now and see there were a lot of good times. Maybe we tend to romanticize the past a bit? (laughs) Even some of the stuff I’m going through now can be tough, to be honest, but I’m never going to give up. There’s still so much I want to give. The amount of joy I derive from doing this is way higher than the amount of difficulty. I think my life’s amazing, even right now.
So amazing. (laughs) SOOBIN: I think so too! (laughs) As time goes on and I get older, when I look back on my youth, my time with TOMORROW X TOGETHER, I wonder if it’ll look that much more shiny and amazing. Maybe I’ll feel I was even cooler at this time than I feel I am now.
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