#idk about everyone else but personally it makes me so happy whenever an author responds bc it lets me know I could make them happy
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hi guys this is your daily reminder to comment on fics because it gives happiness both ways: to the author because you're commenting obviously BUT ALSO TO YOURSELF because when author replies you are recognized by them for a moment and that is just so glorious and beautiful
#mutual appreciation ❤️#“thank you for writing” “thank you for commenting”#idk about everyone else but personally it makes me so happy whenever an author responds bc it lets me know I could make them happy#and if I could make them even the tiniest bit happy like their fic made me I am overjoyed#((well sometimes it's an angst fic in which case I want the author to feel the emotions too LOL))#anywaysss#random thoughts#COMMENT ON FICS!!!
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SHAKES UR HAND PRISMO !!!
together we can convince the bee tumblr community to become as obsessed with it as us
ALSO DAMNNN DEDICATED /POS
on a side note-
hold up
on a side side note: i get so distracted in these asks bee omfg im so sorry, i feel like my high energy can get too much sometimes KFDSJKDF pls let me know if u need me to turn it down a notch, i just get excited whenever i talk about fics soo aksdfjkSKJDF
anyways on the original side note: talking about the bee tumblr community just made me think about it, it really does feel like a sort of family <3 i love seeing all the random updates from the different anons here and getting to connect to you and to each other, it feels much more wholesome and secure than places like twt LMFAOO but idk it's just nice <3
i had tumblr for awhile but i never used it until i started reading the asks here, and it took me awhile to join in bc i felt intimidated skfdkjsd which is ironic bc yknow i could always go anon? but idk it just felt like everyone had their groove going and i didn't want to intrude, but i joined and i never felt that way
anyways oops this got long (as it always does kjfsdkj), but i just wanted to say that i appreciate you bee <3 for letting us anons n non anons ramble in ur ask box and analyze ur fics and/or just straight up scream noncoherent things
this has been a bright spot in my life lately and it's really special to me <333 and ur genuinely like . one of the kindest authors i've met, but you also have such a good sense of your boundaries n stuff, i admire you really. ur super cool
and also to all the other sillies in bee's asks, i appreciate u guys too <3 ur all super cool people, and i love hearing what you have to say :)) it's genuinely really nice and comforting to be a part of this community <33
lol no you're fine icy!! while it can be a Lot it always makes me laugh whenever I post a chapter of something that has sandduo in it and my inbox just fills with you screaming. it makes me so happy to know how excited my fics make you and the others though so :D
the thing you said about the tumblr community we have here is so sweet though and it's more right than I think even I realized initially. it's really nice when I see regular askers/anons pop up in my inbox and get to catch up on tiny parts of your lives and then in turn you guys talk to each other—it's just so sweet y'know? the thing I really love about having such an active inbox especially with asks about my fics is that it's a lot easier for me to respond to tumblr asks than ao3 comments. I rarely reply to ao3 comments because it's really just overwhelming and then I'm like "well if I respond to one person I feel bad about not responding to everyone else" but sometimes I just don't know what to say or there's just too many comments y'know? I LOVE my ao3 comments they mean so much to me but it's really nice to have people come into my inbox here to tell me their thoughts on my chapters bc it gives me a chance to reply with my own thoughts in a way that feels a lot more like a discussion I guess
so yeah. thank you guys for coming into my inbox to give me your thoughts it seriously makes me so happy and is definitely part of the reason why I have so much motivation to post so much.
also I'm really glad you decided to start popping in here one day icy you're very fun to have around :)
one thing I've always been very aware of since getting 'big' in this fandom is how to maintain things like boundaries while still connecting with the community and my readers specifically. because I wanna talk to you guys and I love interacting with you and all that, but also sometimes people in fandom who get 'big' can be a bit strange to others or get way too involved with discourse and just stir the pot and to each their own do fandom how you want but I don't wanna do that y'know. I'm here to have a good time and I want this little community we've built to also just be a nice, welcoming place for everyone
thank you for this icy it really made me smile to read <3
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Just A Bad Dream (Marco x Reader)
Authors Note: This is gonna be the first fanfiction I’ve posted in a while, I hope you enjoy it!
Summary: Marco takes notice in the reader and their tired behavior, and suspects they haven’t been sleeping. The reader is suffering from PTSD and relives the events of Shiganshina in their dreams whenever they try to sleep.
TW: Mentions of death, PTSD, sleep deprivation, possibly swearing idk.
I’ll admit that sleep has been getting harder to achieve lately, since I had joined the Training Corps, my memories of Shiganshina had begun to resurface as other survivors from that day shared their stories. When they asked me, I stayed silent, never was I the most social person there, but I wasn’t as anti-social as Annie or anything, I had a group of people to hang around. One of my close friends, Marco, had approached me our first day with his other friend, Jean, stating I looked lonely and that I could use a bit of company, I was too nice to turn them down. Ever since that day I had developed some feelings for the freckled sweetie, it had been a while since I had opened up to anyone, and he was able to win me over within the snap of his fingers.
“(Y/N), you’ve been awfully quiet lately.” Although his voice was quiet, it reached me clearer than freshly cleaned glass.
“I’m sorry, Marco. I’m just a little tired.” My response was just as quiet as his comment, I could feel his eyes trained on me while mine gazed at the wooden table I sat in front of.
“Yeah, no shit. Honestly you look terrible, and you’ve been moping around for the past few weeks as if you were a sick horse.” Jean commented, taking a bite out of his bread shortly after, only to almost choke on it as Marco gave him a quick elbow to the waist.
“You’re one to talk, horse face.” Despite how tired I was, my comebacks were always quick and always something I was proud of. Jean only gave me the stink eye before turning his attention back to his dinner.
“Jean is right though, not that you look bad! It’s just we’re expressing our worry for you.. Not only have you been unlike yourself, the Instructor has been giving you earfuls of lectures almost every day now! And honestly it doesn’t even look like you’re listening to him anymore!” His rambling continued on, but his voice got more and more faint as he tried to get through to me. My gaze also began to turn upward to the ceiling, all I could think about was getting a nice full time of peaceful sleep for once.
“Listen, Marco, Jean,” I began, taking a long pause as I slowly looked back down towards them. “I’m fine, really, everyone goes through little rough patches now and then.” There was a long silence between us after that, until Marco sighed and stood up from his seat.
“Fine, just.. Try to get some sleep tonight, for me?” Those last few words stuck to me, I knows how much I truly care for him, and I’d do anything to make him happy. His eyes didn’t leave mine, not even when Jean followed his lead and stood up.
“Alright, I’ll try.” Soon after, we exchanged goodnights and headed towards our baracks, mine was a bit far from where Jean and Marco slept with their roommates, I on the other hand did not have any due to complaints of my ever so often ‘sleep talking.’ When really I’d wake in the night, a sobbing and screaming mess.
- Time Skip -
There were screamings ringing from all around me, as I scrambled to seak safety, so scared and desperate for the safety in my mothers arms again, something I knew I’d never have again as I watched her get violently crushed under the weight of our home as it collapsed. Being shoved around constantly by fleeing civilians as my cries fell upon deaf ears, I soon met myself at my knees where I could feel those cold, dead eyes staring down at me. Looking up, I saw that strange facial expression most titans held, always similar but different, it had crouched down to get a good look at me before one of its massive hands reached for my small body. I felt hopeless, I couldn’t scream or move, all I could do was watch my end slowly creep closer.
“NO!” My entire upper half shot out of bed, I couldn’t even register my shouting as my own voice for a second as hot tears streamed down my face, my nightwear was wet with my own tears, implicating that I had been crying for quite a while in my sleep. It was only safe to assume that it was late at night, although my nightmare had not lasted long, it felt like an eternity, anticipating the feeling of that hand on me, and lifting me from the floor.
Attempting to compose myself, I reached for my face and frantically began to wipe my tears before bending my legs close to my chest and hugging them tightly. It was always the same thing over and over, but this time it just seemed more realistic for some reason. I continued to sob into my knees, confident that nobody could hear me, and of course I was wrong when I heard my door creak open.
“(Y/N)?” There was a sense of urgancy in Marco’s voice this time as he peaked his head into the room, still hesitant though, as if he was worried of being shouted at. “Is everything okay?”
“What the hell does it look like!?” I snapped back without thought, I watched him flinch as he put a hand up in defense. I could only feel more guilty for my sudden actions, returning to my ball of tears.
“I- I’m sorry.. I didn’t mean to-” Quickly I interrupted through my soft cries.
“No- I- I’m sorry.. You didn’t deserve that..” Using my sleeve to wipe away the new set of tears I had produced, I heard Marco’s boots tap against the floor as he made his way closer to my bed. He was also in his pajamas, but he put on his boots to come to my room.
“Can I sit?” He questioned softly, motioning to the spot next to me in my bed, I only responded with a small nod of my head. Soon I could feel the bed dip under his weight next to me as he slid his boots off.
“Why are you here..” I cringed at how shaky my voice sounded, it was strange how fast I felt myself calm down as the warmth of his arm met with my back as he pulled me closer.
“I had a bad feeling, I was worried that you weren’t sleeping again, guess I was right.. But there’s something else too, isn’t there?” He looked at me with a caring gaze as his other hand gently wiped away the tears that continued to roll down my face. His skin was soft, everything about him was so welcoming and kind. The tension between us grew thick as I struggled to talk about my struggle to sleep.
“Lately, I- I’ve been struggling to sleep.. I keep having nightmares about wh- what happened in.. Shiganshina.” It was hard to get the last word out of my mouth, I hated thinking about that place, after all that has happened there.
“You know, sometimes talking about it makes people feel better. I completely understand if you don’t want to, it’s a heavy subject..” Marco made me feel like I could do anything, when I look at him I feel like my whole world is in my hands, and mine to bend. He made me want to try.
“I- I want to talk about it..” There was a long pause, as Marco gave a quiet nod, watching me patiently. “I.. I was just a kid. Sh- She.. My mom.. We were making dinner together, I always wanted to be a cook when I was younger, a- and she asked me to get some ingredients that we were missing..” I stopped for a moment, visualizing my mother and that day she sent me away from our home, how I wish I had stayed there with her.
“It’s okay, take your time.” The hand on my shoulder began to gently rub its thumb in circles, soothing me just a bit more.
“So I went.. I.. I didn’t even have time to get to the shop wh- when I heard that god awful explosion. T- The floor shook and next thing I knew.. Screams were heard all around me, a- and I didn’t know what was happening.” My voice grew shakier, my eyes welled with more tears as Marco rushed to brush them away.
“You can stop if you want to, I’m so proud of you, (Y/N). I know this is something you struggle to talk about..” Never had I met somebody so caring and understanding like Marco Bodt, he made me feel safe, protected, I wanted to make him feel the same way.
“Marco,” I shakily reached for his hand and took it, holding it rather tight but not enough to hurt. “Stay, please.” His expression changed to slight shock as he lightly squeezed my hand.
“O- Okay.. I’ll stay.” He smiled a little as he held me closer, I didn’t realize how much I craved affection until I actually recieved it. My head rested against his chest as he rested his chin on the top of my head, we were cuddling.
“Thank you, Marco..” My voice trailed off as sleep began to overcome my mind again.
“I’m going to stay here, (Y/N).. I’m always gonna be here when you need me.” He continued to quietly assure me as I felt his lips press against my forehead, my face heated up as his chin returned to the top of my head. Slowly I could feel his heartbeat slow as he fell asleep, and soon I did too.
I didn’t have anymore nightmares for the rest of the night, and for the first time in forever, I felt like I could take one step closer to overcoming my past, now that I knew Marco would be by my side.
#marco bodt#attack on titan#marco bodt x reader#snk#fanfiction#jean kirschtein#marco deserved better
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Imposter
(A fic about trans Five)
The Girl was known for being all sunshine and rainbows. She was known for sweet comments and doing everything with a feminine elegance alike to her sister. It was truly a beautiful image, one which didn't at all represent The Boy behind it.
Everyone else, including their father, knew him as The Girl, but his siblings knew him as The Boy, as Five. Well, Five was nothing like the fairytale of a supergirl their father wanted to present him as. Five was all blunt truths, sarcastic remarks, math solutions and bragging... a lot of bragging. Which, none of it had anything to do with his gender, yet their father insisted on changing even that about him.
Five would like to think that he didn't need his father's approval. He didn't care for it, yet there was this empty feeling in his chest whenever he read another comic with The Girl. A weird alienation as he managed to recognize all of his siblings in the words and images on the pages, but in his place was a stranger. The perfect daughter and superhero, a girl who was as elegant and charming as Allison. A girl who Five had never been and never would be. Didn't want to be, but then again, this feeling kept gnawing at his chest, telling him that he had to be for his father. He needed to be what his father so obviously wanted. Five had tried, he'd really tried, but it just never really worked...
He liked skirts, so that was something he was doing right and his dad wouldn't even allow him to wear anything else anyways, but he was way too aware of the signal he was sending when wearing them, way too aware of how it made everyone see him and so, he ended up stealing shorts from the other boys, or, one time just refused to wear skirts. If he couldn't wear pants, he wouldn't wear anything, which was when his dad found out about the pair of boxer shorts Klaus had been so kind to gift him and he was quickly forced to get rid of those and had to then deal with a long lesson about how it wasn't lady like to pull a stunt like that and that then turned into a lesson on not listening to authority.
Overall, it seemed that his father saw this as nothing else than Five challenging his authority. Father had said that number 5 was a girl, and so, he was a girl. It was simple. It should be easy to understand and Five couldn't help but feel frustrated with himself over the fact that he couldn't. He couldn't just understand that. Why couldn't he? His father seemed equally frustrated, with the exact same question on his mind.
Five let out a scream of frustration as The Girl had to mock even his smart jokes by replacing them with a sugar sweet, princess-y comment. He threw the comic across the room, not even caring that his father would be furious if it got damaged. Vanya gave him a sympathetic look over the edge of the book she was reading, but didn't say anything, which he greatly appreciated. He sat there for a whole, seething in his rage before he heard a laugh. Looking up, he saw that Klaus had picked up the insulting comic and was now reading it. Five stared daggers at him, having a nagging feeling that he knew exactly who, Klaus was laughing at. Klaus looked up, noticing his brother's glare. He shook his head, a small smile playing at the edge of his lips. "Fivey, I don't think dad has met you." Five blinked at the weird remark, not really knowing what else to say he just let out a "huh?".
Klaus looked back at whatever page he was on. "Oh, I don't know, I just get the feeling someone should inform dad that apparently someone has been impersonating you all these years and that he's obviously been training with the wrong number Five." He said, with a shrug, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. Five stared at him for a moment, not entirely sure how to respond. "I mean," Klaus continued, determined to get the reaction he wanted. "Dad has just been training some random girl all of those years? You're not even a girl, so there's not way that she's you. And no one knows who she is?? That's quite a security breach, don't you think?" Klaus said in a very serious and dramatic tone. Five let out a snort at Klaus somber expression, which quickly vanished as a bright smile split his face. He'd gotten the wanted reaction.
"Now, Fivey, I don't know about you, but I think dear daddy would be very appreciative if we go look for this horrible imposter. My bet is on that she likes donuts..." Klaus blinked to him and Five couldn't help but smile. "Well, we better go look for her then?" Five suggested, finally realizing where Klaus was going with this, he eagerly jumped off the couch. Ignoring the worried look Vanya shot them.
"I like your thinking, brother." Klaus said, hitting him friendly on the shoulder as Five tried to be casual about the wave of happiness washing over him at the word. Brother. It just... felt so right. It felt good. Way better than the fleeting approval of their father. "Hey, Vanya, will you be joining us on this fine evening?" Klaus asked, playfully. Vanya looked at Five hesitantly, before jumping up herself. "Better make sure you boys don't get yourself killed." She laughed. Boys. Five playfully pushed her shoulder, but he couldn't be more thankful to both of them for understanding him.
_________________________
Gaaaaah, this means a lot to me and is kinda personal and idk... it just means a lot, so I hope you guys enjoyed it!!
If I need to tag any triggers pls let me know??
As always, feedback and constructive criticism is much welcome and appreciated :)
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so i’ve been watching rwby
and as I’ve been doing so I’ve been posting reactions to my friends. After S5, S6, and S7, in particular, I had a lot of thoughts and opinions. More under the cut. I’m going to write fic aren’t i?
Season 5:
1. Where is the first/autumn relic?! Like, we've established that Ozpin hid it well, yet for some reason it doesn't feel like that's the whole story - given where the relic was hidden this time, in some sort of n dimentional desert (where, if you looked closely you could see similar ##chemtrails - could people just walk through that desert to get to all of them? 2. I find it hilarious that Weiss just got out of Atlas only to go back, I'm very curious as to what sort of ~~damage this reveals about her in the coming seasons, but I'm also very intrigued by how reintroducing her to her father with the rest of team RWBY will shift/alter the narrative of powerlessness that he seems t be pushing toward her. I'm esp. intrigued as to what his reaction will be to Blake (as he seems very anti-faunus). 3. WHAT DOES THIS ALL MEAN FOR THE #YANGST. 4. The show has been pretty constantly showing us that most of Ruby and Yang's family seems like chill folks, but the ##absentmother trope is strong here. Given that it seems like only Blake has a mom, does Blake's mom adopt everyone? 5. Blake having a fairly functional nuclear family is fascinating to me, because it makes a lot of her choices seem way more political (at a very young age) as opposed to just a kid who got in over her head with a boy who was a bit older. I'd love to know more about this. 6. as a multishipper, I hurt all over.
xx
Season 6:
Item the FIRST: Weiss barely making it out of Atlas only to be dragged, albeit somewhat willingly back to the source of all of her ~ trauma & family drama ~ I am curious to see how this plays out and generally hope that Weiss somehow stabs her shitty dad and Draco Malfoy rip off brother while being reunited with her 100% Cooler Than U sister. Also that Cooler Than U sister works on the unresolved sexual tension she CLEARLY had with Qrow.
Item the SECOND: The show's thoughtful handling of Qrow's alcoholism and Ruby's gentle efforts to push toward sobriety without like being annoyingly moralistic about it. It could have been handled so differently and I really, really enjoyed that it was handled in the way it was.
Item the THIRD: Weiss' new red scarf. adsfajshfaksdjfhthatsgayweissaksdfhaksdjfh
Item the FOURTH: The various Poor Life Choices Salem made during our brief sojourn to the Department of Backstory. Also Jinn is amazing let's keep her around. She can join Jaune, Ren and Nora as a 4th member of their team and just hilariously be naked all the time. 10/10 would watch for hijinks adventures.
Item the FIFTH: Ozpin sulking that he got all his relationship drama put on main like that
Item the SIXTH: Jaune's gay sister and sister-in-law and their baby and and and and (idk I just loved this).
Item the SEVENTH: BLAKE AND YANG HELD HANDS AND MURDERED THEIR TRAUMA TOGETHER PRAISE JESUS AND CAN I GET A HALLELUJAH? NOW KISS.
Item the EIGHTH: My multishipper ass saw that moment between Weiss and Yang when they were stuck in the basement and I'd just like to say I would be happy to see that too.
xx
Season 7: Item the First: Weiss has a mother. Which we all logically knew she did but that scene with her in Jacques' office was just... a lot. Also raised some very interesting questions. When will Weiss and Ruby bond over alcoholic parental figures, I ask you. On this front, I am also now supremely, supremely curious about Winter's relationship with her mother.
Item the Second: Leftist Weiss. Well we all knew that Weiss wouldn't have voted for her dad anyway, but I think the tension between Weiss's clear orientation toward helping people and government for good and her father/sister's appealing to/embodying other forms of authority (corporate/military). This also raises an interesting point of contention between Weiss and Winter, as Winter's sort of this embodiment of what I'd maybe call a conscientious soldier – where she’s clearly in possession of independent thoughts and opinions, yet also seems to want to appeal to a higher authority whenever she feels conflicted (e.g. “Ironwood is making the hard decisions so we don’t have to.”). This actually draws a very stark line between Winter and Weiss – as Weiss has always been a freer thinker, who can and does think for herself and operate from her own moral compass. The moment at the end of the season between Weiss and Winter was just so delicious as I hope (HOPE HOPE) that they’re setting up for a ~~moment of clarity~ for Winter where she has to make a decision on her own that defies orders in some way for the greater good that Weiss can see so easily. (Also, please, my good gay sisters: Hug. It. Out.)
Item the Third: Leftist Bees (well really, leftist Yang, Blake was always a revolutionary). I absolutely loved the Everyone Is Lying moments in this season, and I do hate that the Bees were the ones caught out in it first. Black and Yang telling Robyn the truth also struck me as something that the pair of them would do anyway – the only other character I could see possibly slipping and letting info get to Robyn is Weiss, but I also got the sense that Weiss understood the politics of the situation better than anyone else and because of this was playing it pretty close to the vest. The Bee’s decision really jives with their partnership. As did getting to watch them fight together so much this season, they’re evolving together, and seeing them fight in tandem is a delight.
Item the Fourth: Splitting whiterose. I like Penny. I actually love Penny. I love Penny and Roby’s dynamic. And their friendship. And how ridiculous they are. But it really struck me that how the whiterose partnership kept on getting split until the final fight against the Spice Force Five. I’m sure there’s a reason for this but I don’t like it and I won’t hear it or respond to it.
Item the Fifth: The Not Spice Girls/Spice Force Five. Love these idiots, but they’re all cops. Marrow is the most delightful of them and seems like he’s about to go on a journey similar to Winter, Harriet sucks a lot, Clover was a delightful almost rip but also mmmwhatchusay. I sort of hated the juxtaposition between team RWBY and them, with the ‘just following orders’ mentality and the lack of friendship/cohesion between these guys. I guess now Winter can join them and they so they can have their Posh Spice.
Item the Sixth: Schneewood Forest. I feel like I could write a whole elaborate backstory with these two. There’s something there – the unstoppable force meets immovable object of it, plus the idea of someone who challenges Winter’s entire belief structure just by being an okay person ~with a merry band of queers~. I feel a lot of things. I want to explore this. Stop me I am in a PhD program.
Item the Seventh: The Tinman’s Heart. Having read all of the Wizard of Oz books, as well as the Wicked series, I actually appreciate that this series is taking nods from both sources for these characters. James’s decisions are … not great but I can see his logic – well right up until the part where he shoots poor Oscar. That was just rude. Also I do love watching him fight because he’s so very, very good.
Item the Seventh: Bisexual Bobs. How very Bi of you Blake. And how useless lesbian of Yang to be all flustered about it. Please kiss.
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My life, The Doctor; 10th Doctor x Nurse!reader
*Author’s note*
Hey guys I know it’s been awhile but I finally decided to work on another story outside the Queen/BoRhap fandom. Now this request came from @originalposter96 idk if this is your user name anymore but I hope you’ll be able to see it.
NOW WARNING HERE I AM NOT A DOCTOR OR A NURSE!!! So I know absolutely NOTHING about surgeries or anything like that, so this may seem as lazy writing (sorry) but I hope you all still enjoy this fic. So since this does involve the reader being a Nurse there is a hospital involved, surgeries, blood, removing bullets, gunshots, and a slight trigger warning for Domestic violence (not between the Doctor and reader just some side characters).
Taglist:
@plethora-of-things
@waddles03
@psychosupernatural
@dancingcoolcat
@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels
@ixchel-9275
__________________________________________________________
There have been many wonderous places I’ve been to, many wonderful people and creatures I’ve met. They all come and go in my life, whether through my adventures or by time itself all beings enter my life one way or another. But throughout all my previous lives, every single being in the Universe that I had ever known, one person was above and beyond special.
Her name was (Y/n) (L/n). And she—is and will always be the love of my life.
For a human she was extremely clever, sharp as a whip, but she was also kind, loyal, and the one thing about her is that she never gives up on anyone. As a Head nurse—oh did I forget to mention that? Yes my (y/n) is one of the best Nurses in all of England.
Anyone in her time or even in the future when she finally becomes an M.D. will tell you that she is one of the best. In fact she finds out future cures for worldwide pandemics (of course sometimes her board would deny her research and billions of people perish. Rotten bastards). Anyways, my (y/n) truly is one of a kind amongst the humans and I am glad to have met her.
And won’t she be surprised when she sees me. It had been awhile since I had last seen her (maybe since the day she graduated medical school just a year ago her time) and now with the Cybermen and Daleks taken care of, now’s a good a time to go see her.
I set the coordinates for her time period and flipped the switch allowing the TARDIS to activate and soon going through time and space.
*My POV*
April 14th, 2015, 10:05pm. It had been a long day. 5 surgeries, 3 MRI scans, a cancer treatment report, and 2 women in labor later, I was just about to drop right there on the floor. I was thankful that in like 20min. my shift was gonna be over.
“You look like you’re about to drop dead right on the spot.” I snapped out of my sleepy stage to see my good friend Chrissie Lang. She and I had graduated from the same Med school together, and had most of the same classes together. She and I are each other’s support system cause in this line or work—it can take a toll on you.
I remember this one time this woman came in at 6 months pregnant bleeding profusely from her legs. We both knew that she was suffering a miscarriage so we told to do what her Doctor told us to do, but by the end of it Chrissie was completely destroyed. She always wanted to be a mum and seeing something like that happen made her fearful for even trying to go for a baby with her and her boyfriend.
So for the next ten minutes after helping the woman out, Chrissie and I just held onto each other and shed our tears before we had to brush it off and move onto the next case we had. For those that say being a Doctor or a Nurse is the easiest job to do, they’re liars. The job can hit you not just physically, but mentally as well.
“After 2 days of not sleeping, I just might. Put on my tombstone (Y/n) (l/n). Died with a heart of gold and a stomach of caffeine.”
“That’s true cause I swear girl, you’re probably the most caffeine addicted person I’ve ever met.”
“I can stop whenever I want, these are just choices.” We both chuckled softly.
“Excuse me ladies, but would you mind helping me with something?” a familiar voice said to me. We both turned to our right and standing there with a bouquet of my favorite color of carnations was the Doctor.
“Of course, what can we do for you sir?” asked Chrissie.
“Hey Chris, why don’t you let me handle this?” I suggested.
“You sure?”
“Yeah, besides you’re about to clock out sooner than me, you go on and head home. I’ll meet you there.”
“Okay, see you later (n/n).” she bid the Doctor good evening and he did the same. Once Chrissie left the lobby, I turned towards the Doctor smiling widely as he did the same.
I immediately embraced him and he picked me up and twirled me around, the two of us laughing together.
“Oh I swear every time I come back, you get more beautiful.” He said as he set me down.
“I’m just happy you got to come back at all.” I said as I cupped his face in my hands. His eyes grew soft as he placed his hands over mine.
“I know what I do is dangerous, but you know why I do what I do.” I nodded in understandment.
“I mean hell it wouldn’t be any different if you were human and worked as a police officer or a fireman. Hell we humans live in a dangerous world, anything could kill us.”
“Which is what makes me the Doctor.”
“It does indeed.” I stroked his cheek with my thumb and that’s when he reached for the bouquet he had set down on the front desk and he presented it to me. “You always know just how to cheer me up.”
“Figured you might’ve had a long, rough day. Thought a little color could be used to brighten up your day.”
“It sure did, thank you my love.”
“Anything for you my life.”
That was a thing between us. When we first started dating each other, we had a little code/nickname for each other. I call the Doctor ‘my love’ because ever since he literally dropped from the sky onto my doorstep, he’s unlike anyone I’ve ever met.
He’s quirky, bit of a goofball, can sometimes blow his top but that’s only when something really dangerous happens and he’s under stress (yeah I’ve traveled with him a couple of times during my time at Med school), but he’s also loyal, brave, beyond clever, and he always puts everyone else, especially the human race above himself. For the last of his species, he’s an incredibly selfless person.
He calls me ‘his life’ because whenever things get too hard for him, since he and I have been through some rough stuff due to our day to day life, I always try my best to comfort him. I know that he’s lost people, just like I have on a job, and it’s not an easy thing to get pass.
So we both try to be each other’s support system. We know there is always loss in the world, but the thing is to not let that be the driving point that always controls your life. You can use it to make you stronger, not let it drag you down any further.
“So how has my brave Dr. (L/n) been since I last saw her?”
“You know I’m not a Doctor yet, I still gotta go through the nursing program and then rise up in the ranks before I finally get it.”
“Oh rubbish, you should’ve been a Doctor right as you graduated.”
“Yeah well not according to the chief here.” I muttered annoyedly.
“Honestly though, that old fool wouldn’t know a good doctor if it turned around and bit him in the arse.” I shushed him but couldn’t help myself from giggling softly.
“You can be so cruel sometimes you know that?” he playfully shrugged.
“Only when it comes to people who hurt you.” he wrapped his arms around me and pecked my cheek. “How much longer till your shift ends?” I turned to the clock and responded.
“10 minutes. But…..I could clock out a little early since there hasn’t been a call.”
“Playing hooky ehh? You cheeky little minx.” He grinned like the Cheshire cat. As we leaned closer to each other about to kiss, the doors suddenly burst open and a frantic voice called out.
“HELP! HELP! MY BROTHER NEEDS HELP! HELP!” a blonde woman around her mid 30’s came in holding her brother who looked to be around the same age as her. Quite possible they might’ve been twins cause I could see some similarities on the both of them. Her brother was completely covered in blood and his lips were blue from blood loss.
“Okay Miss calm down. I NEED A STRECHER STAT!!” soon enough the nurses who were still here for the nightshift ran off as I walked towards the two siblings. “What happened?”
“My ex-boyfriend jumped us. He thought—he thought my brother was a new boyfriend of mine and he—he—oh god this is my f-fault!”
“No, no, no Miss this is not your fault.” As I tried to calm her down, the stretcher bed soon came in and a group of nurses helped the man on his back and began cutting away his shirt.
“I’m seeing 3 bullet wounds to the chest and one on his abdomen. Let’s move him!” I get onto the top right of him as we wheel him into the OR to save his life while another nurse stayed behind with the sister to calm her down.
I washed my hands and arms frantically and thoroughly before getting my shrubs and mask on. Already the destine nurses, assistants and now our head Doctor, Dr. Murphy came in and he said.
“What have we got?”
“Four shots in the upper body, two in the lower. He might’ve lost a pint of blood at least.” Answered Nurse Yasmin.
“Maybe 2-3. His BP is dropping fast.” Added one of the male Nurses, Derek.
“Okay, any of those bullets rupture an organ?” asked Dr. Murphy.
“The one in his lower abdomen is just a centimeter before hitting his small intestine. If we don’t get that bullet out first he could bleed out internally.”
“Okay keep an eye on his BP. I need fluids, scalpels, suction tubs, retractors……”
“Lucy….”the man groaned out.
“(L/n), do your thing.” Said Dr. Murphy. I nodded and came up to the man and said.
“Sir? Sir can you hear me?”
“Yes. Where—where am I?”
“You’re at the hospital. Your sister brought you in. Don’t worry she’s okay and told us what happened.”
“Good….good……She’s safe. I—I’d never forgive myself if—” he started fading out.
“Hey, hey, hey sir, sir stay with me now. What’s your name? Can you tell me your name?”
“Barry.”
“Okay Barry, I’m (Y/n) (l/n). My team and I are gonna help you but you need to stay with me for just a bit. Don’t give up on me.”
“It hurts….it hurts so badly.”
“I know, I know.”
“Give him a shot of morphine to numb the pain.” Dr. Murphy ordered. Suzie got the morphine bag and needle ready and slowly stuck the needle into his left arm. Barry hissed and I said to him.
“This’ll help lessen the pain. You won’t feel the pain as we try to get the bullets out of you Barry. But you gotta stay with me, okay?”
“I’ll—try……” he mumbled tiredly. I placed my hand on his cheek and looked up at his vitals and saw his BP was continuing to drop and his heartbeat was going down.
As I looked around me, frantically Dr. Murphy and all the nurses were working together trying to get all the bullets out of him one by one, less we risk him bleeding out as two teams tried to work out a single bullet. With the main one near his intestines cleared, Dr. Murphy and Nurse Helen worked on getting the few out of his upper chest.
All the while Barry kept groaning every now and then and his eyes were fading fast.
“Barry. Barry hey look at me boy. If you can’t do this for yourself, do it for your sister. From what she said about who had done this to you, you need to stay alive for her. What you did was heroic, but don’t let her see that that selfish son of a bitch won. She needs you, your family needs you.”
“I got the blood transfusion he now needs. Thankfully, we had our last bag of B+ in the storage bin.” A young male nurse who had only worked here for a year, Cody exclaimed as he came through the doors.
“Alright, start the transfusion now! We just got the last bullet out and his BP is dropping faster and faster!”
“You hear me Barry? We’re getting you your life back. But it’s gonna be up to you now. Don’t let him be the victor, not tonight! You hear me?” he groaned and looked right up at me and he whispered groggily to me.
“Why do you care so much?” I took a deep breath in and said as I stroked the hair from his face.
“Because so many people everywhere are already dying every day. Some because time has run out on them, others for serving their country, but there are the odds of people dying for now reason whatsoever. Or for stupid reasons that shouldn’t be a reason why someone should have to die, especially if it’s protecting their family member from some arsehole who can’t tell the meaning of the word No. Now your sister is out there waiting for you, if she loses you, she’ll have lost her Ace. Her only friend that has stuck by her through whatever it was that her ex-boyfriend did to her.”
“He…..always was a……selfish prick!” he coughed out.
“I’ll bet he was. But she survived him, and now you’ve got to survive too. Don’t give him that satisfaction that he took a life tonight. Can you do that for me?” he nodded softly and whispered out again.
“You’d make a great motivational speaker.”
“I was on the debate team back in secondary school. If you wanna hear more, you’ll just have to stick around Earth for a little while longer.” After his final stitches were in place, the blood transfusion began and it was then Dr. Murphy had Cody, Darren, and Helen wheel him into ICU. From there, Barry would be monitored 24/7 till he woke up from his post-surgery coma.
Dr. Murphy took off his mask and gloves before turning to me and he said to me.
“Nice job keeping him talking.”
“Just doing my job sir.”
*Doctor’s POV*
Unaware to anyone else, I had snuck into the upper levels to witness the surgery in progress. I watched as (y/n) stayed right by the young man’s side and kept giving him encouragement to stay alive. But not for himself, for his sister.
This. Is why she would one day go down in the medical books as the world’s greatest Female doctor’s. She always put the lives of the people her patient’s love over their own, then psychologically, the patient’s bodies would continue to fight on until finally they would find the strength to recover.
Of course she will have her failures cause that’s life. You can’t save everyone but you can work harder at saving the ones you can save in the future. She doesn’t let one failure get her down, that’s sometimes the curse of being a Doctor. When you lose people, it can really affect you. Even when those closest to you are the ones you lose. Believe me I’ve been there millions of times throughout my 10 life cycles (she’s lucky she’ll only deal with one).
By morning, the lad Barry managed to make a full recovery. His sister, Lucy repeatedly thanked all the doctors and nurses who helped out with saving her brother before giving her statement to the police.
I waited outside by the TARDIS for my beloved Doctor to clock out, and when she finally came out the poor dear looked exhausted. I extended my arms out for her and she gave me a tired smile before collapsing into my arms.
“Just when I thought I could get at least one early night in.” her voice muffled against my trench coat but I still managed to hear her. I softly laughed and rocked her gently as I assured her.
“I know, but hey if you hadn’t been here, that young man would’ve died.”
“Oh you know it was Dr. Murphy as well as a few other nurses that actually did the real operation to save him.”
“True, but you were just as important if not more. You kept him awake and talking.” I shrugged tiredly agree-to-disagreeing. “Now then, I think after a night like that, and from lack of sleep these past couple of days you deserve to be pampered and see the wonders of the galaxy.”
“How did you—”
“Besides the bags under your eyes, I’ve seen the amount of Starbucks cups at your apartment.” She groaned embarrassingly. God this girl and her coffee addiction, truthfully I never understood why humans choose that as their beverage of choice. I myself prefer a good Earl grey or even sometimes Jasmine tea but ugh that horrible bland stuff they call coffee?! Never. Again. Will that drink touch my taste buds.
“Care to show me the wonders of time and space?”
“Need a pick me up boost?” she nodded. I kicked open the doors of the TARDIS and hopped inside before extending my hand out to her saying, “First question is though; do you trust me?”
“Always my love.” She replied with that loving soft smile of hers as she took my hand.
“Then brace yourself my life, because I’m going to show you the sound of the Universe.”
“You mean…..”
“Indeed I do my love, the Music of the Spheres.” Her smile grew wider and I pulled her into the TARDIS before shutting the doors behind her and together the two of us ran towards the consoles of the TARDIS and I punched in the coordinates and soon we took off for the Music of the Spheres.
And who knows where our next adventure would lead after that? So long as I got my love, my life, my Doctor with me by my side.
#doctor who#doctor who fanfic#doctor who fanfiction#doctor who fandom#10th doctor#10th doctor x reader#10th doctor imagine#10th doctor imagines#10th doctor fanfic#doctor who imagines#doctor who imagine#10th doctor fanfiction#doctor who fluff#10th doctor fluff#david tennet#dr. who#dr. who fandom#dr who fandom#dr who fanfic#dr who fanfiction#dr. who fanfiction#dr. who imagine#dr. who imagines
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His Angel (Smut)
Dedicated to the anon who graced me with the prompt; “So Beej is like some kinda demon right? Then what if the reader would be some kinda angel but she’s a virgin. And if she’s gonna lose her virginity she wants to be the dominant one but she’s just too submissive and she fails. Idk if you want to could you write about that for me?”
Note: I made my own cannon for angels in the Beetlejuice universe. Basically, if Beej was once alive but is now a demon, the reader could’ve been alive too and become an angel. Also, despite how the first couple of paragraphs may look, the reader is of age at the time the smut takes place. I just have to set the stage, you know?
DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction AND a request. It DOES NOT reflect the author’s real-world values and beliefs. Also, this is smut where the reader is female and gets just a tad sub-spacey. Also also, use of headcannons regarding Betelgeuse’s mood ring hair and excessive ejaculation + glowing ejaculate.
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For the first time in your after-life, you were truly happy. You’d originally been sent by Juno to keep the Maitland-Deetz household safe from Betelgeuse. Every single entity occupying that house loved having you around. You cleaned, cooked, and protected, and you loved doing it. Even when Betelgeuse was integrated into the make-shift family and was no longer a threat, you stayed. You had finally found a home
You’d died as a kid during the black plague. Since your soul was pure, you weren’t just any old ghost or demon in the after-life; you became an angel. Juno raised you like Mowgli was raised among the wolf pack. Even though the black plague had caused a massive influx of angels, most of them had stayed far away from the evils of the underworld.
In this new spiritual state, you grew to be the beauty of the underworld, just as a flower is in a battlefield. Besides that, you’d proven yourself in mastering your supernatural abilities and in combat. Even though you were witty and clever too, academics were never your strongpoint. You grew to your peak young age and there you stayed, this beautiful thing preserved forever in angelic death. You were eventually assigned to be the guardian angel of the Maitland-Deetz household.
As soon as Betelgeuse was decidedly not evil, you allowed yourself to feel what you’d previously pushed down; you really liked him. Not only was he sexy as hell, he was also exactly your type. Thick in just the right places (there were days you wondered if this extended to someplace else as well), and a face that you adored. When he hugged you, you melted into his soft form. Betelgeuse was surprisingly clingy and cuddly, but you didn’t really mind. One of your favorite features about him was his hair. When he was in a lighter mood it was green. When he was lonely it was a purplish blue. When he flirted with you it could be anywhere from a light green to a dark magenta, but that depended on the caliber of the joke. His jokes were often sexual in nature, so you saw something close to magenta quite often.
Thus you embarked on the best chapter of your after-life.
As far as the rat himself was concerned, he’d been lusting after you the day you arrived with the intention of kicking his ass. One of his favorite thoughts was sexually corrupting you, you who were so pure, and probably still had your virginity to lose. He often dreamed of tying you down and filling you up with his seed, or overstimulating you, or biting into and permanently marking your perfect skin, or, or, or- there were just too many good possibilities. However, on his more lonely days, he though of it the other way around; you riding him, holding him down with your angelic power. Completely and utterly using him for your own pleasure. Maybe you’d spank him. Since he was in the privacy of his own room (the basement) at the time this thought first occurred to him, he moaned aloud at the thought.
One summer evening, the two of you sat outside the house. Lydia had just had a fight with Delia, and tensions between everyone else had been high due to the nature of the argument. Delia had made a snide comment at dinner about how all the living inhabitants of the house “might die someday because of all the ghosts! I mean, what if Betelgeuse decides to go rogue again?”. You and Lydia had immediately jumped to Betelgeuse’s defense, and Lydia was absolutely livid. She cut you out of the debate all together, but this gave you time to notice that your favorite demon’s hair was getting progressively bluer. He had also found his family in these people, and to have one of them say something like this must’ve hurt. Though the hair confirmed what he was feeling, his facial expression said it all. His eyes were wide and unfocused, and he was trembling. The two of you had gotten to know each other a little, and you could tell that he needed to get out of here. His literal blue-ness often turned to panic, and panic often snow-balled into rage. You touched his arm lightly, and his head snapped up, eyes meeting yours. If he had been living, the action would’ve been painful. “Take my hand.” you whispered softly to him. Betelgeuse nodded and interlocked his fingers with yours. His grip was tight.
This was how you ended up comforting him. You didn’t touch him and he didn’t touch you. You just sat on the porch next to him, and it was enough.
To you, Betelgeuse seemed like the perfect picture of despair. His blue locks hung over his sad eyes. Old eyes, you realized. Betelgeuse wasn’t young. He probably died in his mid-thirties, but he’d been dead for so much longer. His large frame was hunched over, wide shoulders stooped. He wasn’t wearing his overcoat or his suit jacket, but he’d kept on his suspenders, rolled up his sleeves, and undone his top buttons. If he was a little less sad, he’d be downright sexy.
You were snapped out of your little trance when you heard him say your name softly, “Am I a bad person?” The question hung in the air for a few moments, and then you spoke, “The fact that you’re asking the question means that you probably aren’t.” And that was the beginning of your friendship.
You and him spent more and more time together, and Betelgeuse began seeing you as more than just good jerking-off material. He saw you as another person. He noticed something very human in you despite your angelic state, and you began to see the human in him. You two found laughter in each other. Betelgeuse was particularly amused by you when you kept yourself from cursing. It was only natural, since you were the purest being he’d ever encountered.
You noticed the way he got all giddy over mundane human things. You loved the gross things about him, like his taste in insects. You loved his sense of masculine fashion. You like his eyes - sad, old eyes - and the way they let you in on his internal thoughts even better than his hair did sometimes.
He noticed the way you hid your pain, tucked away where only you and him could see it. He was fascinated by you. He’d always thought angels were little happy babies with wings and halos, but you weren’t. You didn’t have wings or a halo, and you certainly weren’t a child. You just had this calming infectious glow about you.
Everything was fine when you and Betelgeuse were together.
The first time he kissed you, it was a quick peck on the lips and neither of you talked about it. You reciprocated it later that night.
Whenever he got sad, you kissed him.
Whenever you got sad, he’d hug you.
Soft intimacy became part of the normal routine.
True to his nature, soft intimacy grew sexual in private. You didn’t mind, but the thread was getting thinner every time.
One night, Betelgeuse had gotten all sad on you in his basement bedroom. He responded to your soft kiss with a passionate one, and you didn’t mind. He did this often, and it never led anywhere. You and him exchanged soft kisses that quickly heated up. You found that you couldn’t bear to separate yourself from him.
“Beej-” you used the nickname that he’d adopted recently. “Beej, I want- “ he kissed you again, “-me too-” You loved his gravelly voice all the more in this situation. His sleeves were rolled up and his suspenders were on and his top buttons were undone the way you liked. His hands pulled you closer and then you were straddling him and you could feel how much he liked this.
The thread was gonna break soon.
“Lawrence.” He stopped and pulled his face from yours for a moment. Now you only ever used his real name when you were being serious. He growled softly because you were pressed against his junk and this was so not the time to be serious. His hair was a sinful shade of pink. “Betelgeuse,” you started again. “I want- shit, I want you, but I-” He’d never heard you curse before and it was automatically a turn-on. He silently vowed to make you curse more often. “I’ve never had sex before but I really wanna ride you.” Well damn, he certainly didn’t expect you to be dominant this early on. “.. Ok.” The demon said simply. “Uh, I don’t think ghosts can get knocked up, just sayin’.” Betelgeuse chuckled.
The thread that suspended your boundaries snapped.
Even though you’d never even gotten yourself off, getting naked and being intimate with your demon felt natural and taboo all at the same time. You were experiencing the pent-up sexual energy of the past few hundred years and it was hitting hard. Your entire body was burning with turbulent need, and your core was practically dripping with slick. Your mind was spinning and spiraling with fantasies of what could be that made you all tingly. The feeling was so foreign and wonderful.
Betelgeuse was almost as needy, feeling so free after using his hand for so long. He’d been so busy in the past couple months that he just willed his boners away instead of dealing with them.
Even though you had opted to dominate him, you were much too shaky and turned on to do much of anything. He spread you out on his unmade bed and buried his face in your neck. He inhaled sharply, eyes shut as his body convulsed and he almost gave up on foreplay then and there. He shuffled himself downward and spread your thighs apart.
Your slick had made a dark spot on his bed and had cascaded down your thighs. The musky perfume of your slick made his mouth water and he longed to taste you. Betelgeuse hiked your legs up on his shoulders and then his filthy mouth was kissing your cunt. You tasted something like salted dark chocolate to him, a flavor that he quickly became addicted too. He dipped his tongue teasingly into your hole, but payed much more attention to your clitoris. You ground your hips against his face as his short beard scratched the interior of your thighs. The pleasure that sung through your being made you feverishly warm. He sucked and licked and you felt like you were going to piss yourself, but you knew this wouldn’t be the case. You thought you could feel some kind of vibration in your throat and you weren’t sure how loud you were being.
Betelgeuse was shocked by the dirty noises that made their way out of your throat in long sighs and broken moans. Your face was red and teary-eyed and you were utterly gone, lost in the pleasure. He was swallowing mouthfuls of your addicting slick at this point, and he was so thankful that he didn’t have to breath. He was painfully hard but was too invested in your pleasure to do anything about it just yet.
The feeling off needing to piss was getting stronger but you let it happen, bucking your hips up into Betelgeuse’s face. The feeling flooded your body, up your spine and radiated inside your skull. It danced down your arms and burst forth again from your cunt and down your thighs and all the way into your toes. This feeling was no longer like fire, but like lighting, striking your body repeatedly and constantly.
The feeling seemed to sit and simmer for a moment as your lover pulled away to wipe off his mouth and position himself over your body.
Betelgeuse was big. So big, in fact, that even when his pants were on and he was flaccid, there was a substantial bulge there. The stretch of his cock head was nothing but electrifying pleasure. You thought for a moment that you were paralyzed because you just couldn’t move. Betelgeuse tucked his head back into the crook of your neck and you were both sobbing into each other as he all but shoved the rest of himself into you.
Betelgeuse realized just how much power he held over your pleasure. He knew she hadn’t ever cum before (thanks to a game of drunk truth or dare) and the power this situation gave hime completely went to his head. Before he really knew what was happening, he was pressed all the way inside you and experiencing the most intense pleasure he’s felt since his first orgasm back when he was alive (and he really didn’t remember it so it didn’t really count anyway). He was in this weird space between cumming and not cumming and it wouldn’t take that much for him to start.
You felt yourself suddenly seize up and jerk and pulse. The immense simmering pleasure was magnified a hundred fold and you wrapped your leg’s around your lover’s thick hips. You were in complete euphoria. Your being was numb and all you could feel was Betelgeuse, Betelgeuse, Betelgeuse.
As your orgasm continued, Betelgeuse whimpered into your neck broken curses and whiney pleads. Without pulling out, he humped into you as the accumulation of a good few months burst into your womb. He generally produced significantly more semen that any average man, ghost, or demon, but after saving up for so long, you were sure to be flooded.
Betelgeuse was pressing into you so hard, and with your recently-virgin pussy, his cum wasn’t able to leak out of you when you got full. You got full almost immediately. “Oh- fuck, gah-” he moaned into your neck as he felt your belly beginning to push up against his own.
You enjoying the sight of your lover enjoying himself as you regained your other senses. You decided that you liked the increasing feeling of fullness in your belly, even though you were way too fucked out to really get aroused again, especially after something so intense. You reached a hand up to thread in his pink hair, just softly playing with it as you cooled down.
When he had finally stopped cumming, you realized with dawning amusement that he had fallen asleep against you. You decided not to wake him back up just yet.
You knew that you loved him and he loved you, but actions speak so much louder than words, don’t they?
-END-
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The Signs as things I wanted to be when I grow up
[This has literally been in my drafts since December because I wasn't sure if each option matched with the sign I chose but whatever (it's also a long post again, oof)
Also I didn't really post anything related to 2020 so... Happy New Year, let's hope something good will happen this decade!! 💖]
♈ Aries: Be part of the army. I was quite fascinated by the idea of guns and protecting the nation and actually getting my life together. I was actually thinking about it for quite a while until I realized that in order to get accepted (at least according to the Greek system) you need to have excellent grades (especially maths/physics), to be taller that 165cm and to be excellent in sports. Guess what, I don't understand physics/science/chemistry, I've been about 158cm for the past 3 years and the only two sports I'm good at are badminton and tennis (while you need to be good at running, swimming and things like that I guess 😕)
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♉ Taurus: A chef/baker. Cooking and baking always seemed pretty fun. I would always sit by my grandma whenever she cooked/baked goodies and observe the whole process. I also got inspired by the movies "The Princess and the Frog" and "Ratatouille" and thought that one day I could possibly come up with my own recipes and open my own restaurant. But while growing up I realized that I can't cook properly when I'm stressed/multi-tasking (I'm capable of burning the food AND the kitchen if I get slightly distracted, ooof)
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♊ Gemini: A TV presenter or a weather woman. My mom told me that from the age of three I would always pretend to talk to an audience and answer questions from the callers or announce news/talk about the weather. Maybe that explains why I talk to thin air (as if I was a YouTuber) about anything and everything when I'm alone. Though it sounds cool, I don't really think I could do it now because I have social anxiety.
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♋ Cancer: A writer. I really like writing, I don't know why. Authors have been inspiring me since my childhood, I remember I used to read so many books and try to write something of my own based on it. 😅 I like taking notes and then re-writing them more neatly. I like re-doing old homework in a different style and see if I have improved. I really like writing in a diary/a bullet journal too, I feel like it's much better than bothering others with my problems anyway. I also love coming up with random scenarios/stories/characters and writing about it but I don't know if I should share it. Idk, sometimes I feel like my writing is a bit boring or that it's nothing that impressive. So, honestly, if more people took writers seriously instead of thinking it's a hobby as it doesn't always pay well (when did the world even start revolving around money that much, oml) and if I was more confident about my work I'd definitely chose to become a writer/author (I'm still keeping it as a hobby no matter what I end up doing, lol).
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♌ Leo: A model. Omg, I honestly don't know why I even thought of it. Probably because I really liked watching ANTM when I was younger (and I specifically chose the American version because the one we have in my country makes me cringe a lot, just hearing girls from my school talking about it is painful). My friends also liked the outfits that I put together or how I would always pose for pictures (a few years ago, I'm too awkward now asdfghjkl). Looking at it now it's just so funny. There's literally so much competition in the name of beauty, the community can get kinda toxic sometimes and the standards are pretty high. Also I'm way too short and I still can't walk like a normal person when wearing high heels lol.
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♍ Virgo: A teacher. Specifically, a teacher for elementary or even kindergarten. Back then, the concept of teaching seemed pretty fun to me and I had lots of ideas about how to make class more interesting. The thing is that I have good chemistry with most kids and I actually kinda dislike teenagers because of how rebellious we can get when it comes to school (idk but like teens in my country are like pretty rude to everyone 😐). I'm not so sure about it now, though it's still an option.
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♎ Libra: A psychologist. I always liked helping others out and offering advice when they're having a tough time and I was also curious to see what makes each person feel angry, sad or stressed and the way they respond. It's also interesting because you can learn a lot about someone's personality, preferences and way of thinking or understand what caused someone to commit a crime. I still really like psychology and it's one of my main options for uni. The only problem is that psychology is pretty much overrated in my country so people say it's best to choose something else. 😒
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♏ Scorpio: A criminologist. And, surprisingly, I still want it. I was always intrigued by things that required research, was interesting in learning what caused a murder/crime to be committed and I would always watch crime thrillers with my dad. I also like it because it's a field of Sociology which is one of my favorite subjects. I'm just hoping finals aren't super difficult so I can get accepted in the college that I want on the first try lol.
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♐ Sagittarius: A flight attendant. Back then I found it kinda fun, as I was always curious about what going on a plane is like. It could also be because of their outfits (like the ones you see in movies or in Britney's MV for Toxic, idk why 😅). Plus I would get to travel around the world without paying as much as the passengers. But then, at the age of 14-15 I got on an airplane 4 times and I saw that it wasn't really like the movies and that literally everyone ignored the flight attendant so yeah, it's not an option anymore. ✈️
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♑ Capricorn: A fashion designer. So because I would always draw and constantly ask for new crayons/markers and other art supplies, my mom bought me a few coloring books that focused on fashion. It came along with stickers, stencils, ideas for Victorian dressses, advice for how to design lace or mermaid tail dresses and I was so impressed. A few years later, my grandma showed me a few dresses that she had made for my mom when she was younger (which were so gorgeous like I'm definitely going to wear one of them on my graduation day) and taught me sewing. I also got to see these small floral designs that you usually see on lingerie and it was so pretty, I wish I could do it as perfectly as her. I decided to follow my grandma's advice and keep it as a hobby instead (because she ended up doing nothing but designing clothes and repairing them which she regrets 🧵🧶).
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♒ Aquarius: An astronaut. This was pretty random, I have to admit. I guess I really liked space and looking at at the stars in the night sky. I read a few books about space and learned a few things about NASA back in elementary too, though I realized that it's something I could never really do, as you have to sacrifice a lot. I'm still fascinated by this profession but there's no way I could ever do it, since I can't even understand basic physics or mathematics. 🤷♀️
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♓ Pisces: An artist. Honestly I didn't really care if most artists didn't get recognition/fame or if they didn't earn enough money, I just wanted to make art because I liked it. It's also fun because while you are expressing your thoughts through an art piece, another person might interpret it differently, based on their likings and thoughts. Art also plays an active role in my life: I've been drawing and painting since I was 5 and I would always watch the show with Bob Ross on TV with my grandma. Instead of completely giving up on this idea, I thought that I could choose another profession (also my family didn't really like the thought of me doing art for a living 😐) and keep art as a hobby.
#astrology#zodiac#aries#taurus#gemini#cancer#leo#virgo#libra#scorpio#sagittarius#capricorn#aquarius#pisces#me and my thoughts#yeah idk#for fun ig#at least for me#random
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STAR CROSSED
pairing – do kyungsoo x reader
genre – angst, baker kyungsoo, soulmate au, trope inversion
description – love isn’t a crime unless you fall in love with the person who is supposedly your other half.
warning – one (1) mention of someone getting shot in the head if it counts as one?
word count – 1.8k
author’s note – this was supposed to be a cute fluffy drabble but that didn’t work out and idk i might make a part two / prequel / longer version to this if there is the want for a continuation?
Kyungsoo is drained. He doesn’t admit it but the dark rings underneath his eyes that indicate many sleepless nights in a row beg to differ. His knuckles turn white from gripping the steering wheel too tightly. The road ahead of you is endless and lonely, but you know better than to indulge the comfort of the night. After all, the lights only shine on the few meters in front of you and don't expose the underlying dangers in the long run.
The car radio broke down a few hours ago and ever since, the silence ghosting is heavy. Neither of you has the energy nor the nerves to start a conversation. It's been days, maybe even weeks since you last slept well and carelessly and sometimes, you wonder when you'll ever reach the end of the tunnel. However, if you ever reach the end of the tunnel is another matter in itself.
Your eyes drift over to his hands. Something akin to guilt bubbles in you the longer you look at them. Kyungsoo’s warm hands were once just stained with flour as he baked new cakes and biscuits in his café that everyone at your former workplace lived, breathed and were willing to die for. He was just the quiet but observant baker who took the most pride in his lemon meringues and knew everyone’s favorite order by heart. But those days are gone.
Now, his hands are stained with blood and your name and that makes him a mistake in this world. You’re not any better in this sense. It's ironic, laughable and downright pitiful since you devoted your life to eradicating people who found their soulmates already before you ended up in the exact same predicament.
“I killed Baekhyun.” He breaks the silence. You steal a glance at him. Though his expression remains cool and neutral, you see the guilt hidden underneath slowly rising to the surface.
“You didn’t kill him. Just knocked him out,” you repeat for the umpteenth time.
“I shot him in the head.”
“Trust me, it’ll take more than a gun to kill him.”
Kyungsoo inhales sharply. He doesn’t have the energy to start this discussion again. It’s been countless days since the incident, countless days since the other enforcers put two and two together and figured it out. It’s still hard for him to wrap the fact around his head that his former customers – many of them even friends – didn’t hesitate to pull the trigger at him whereas you saw it coming all along. Though you really can’t blame him, because he’s never dealt with anything like this scenario before. Scratch that, never in a billion years would he expect to deal with anything remotely close to this.
They are just doing their job. Baekhyun was just obeying the law. It’s you and Kyungsoo who are in the wrong.
“Do you feel guilty whenever you shoot somebody?”
“I–” you choke on air and look at him wide-eyed. He glances at you and raises a brow, silently urging you to reply faster, before he focuses on the road ahead. No matter how long you’ve known him already, him feigning nonchalance is something you see through every time yet always fall for.
“I’ve never done that,” you mumble, eyes lowering to your own hands. “There’s never been the need to.”
There’s another pause of silence. Knowing that you won’t get another word out of him anytime soon, you start tracing the fine lines on your wrist. It’s fascinating and hard to believe that a single name on your skin can make or break your existence. It’s hard to believe, but that’s the reality.
“What are you thinking about?” Kyungsoo asks. He is still tense but his grip on the steering wheel has loosened quite a bit.
“I was wondering how things would've turned out if we hadn’t known each other in the first place. Neither of us would be in this mess right now.”
“Maybe you would’ve killed people by then.”
“At least it wouldn’t be you that the enforcers were after!” you exclaim with a raised tone and if it weren’t for the seatbelt, you would’ve attempted to stand up. “You wouldn’t be persecuted, you would continue living your nice, quiet life and most importantly, you wouldn’t have to keep it a secret that you’re in a relationship. And don’t even try to snap back, Kyungsoo. I know that sometimes, you really wanted to announce that you’re happy in a relationship so that Sehun stopped trying to set you up.”
You grind your palms into your closed eyes and let out a muffled, frustrated groan once you are done talking. As you let your emotions get the best out of you, you fail to notice the shift in your boyfriend.
“Hey,” he says in a dangerously low and warning tone, “you may be right with that, but don’t say that as if I ever regretted meeting you. You know that you mean everything to me.”
“What we’re doing is wrong.” is the only thing you can bite back with.
“We shouldn’t be alive at this point. Of course, I know that what we’re doing is against the law.” He breathes out and detaches a hand from the steering wheel to hold yours. There’s something awfully soothing in the way his thumb rubs circles onto your skin and you feel your frantic heartbeat slowing down to a steady rhythm.
Time passes and you find yourself pulling up his sleeve to reveal the fine letters on his wrist. The thought passes your mind; if you had seen your name on someone else’s wrist when you first started out as a law enforcer (hell, you even took the oath to fulfill your duties as one), you wouldn’t have hesitated to turn them in.
Now, the image of turning Kyungsoo in is just unthinkable. It’s funny how much your name on his skin and his name on yours ultimately means to you. In the end, they are just fine black lines, but to you, they are more worth than all of the riches in the world combined.
“I know you’re still torn.” Kyungsoo pulls you out of your thoughts. “But I’m afraid I can’t give you more time to think. I need an answer.”
You pale. “W-what do you mean?”
Kyungsoo notices your uneasiness and continues to press figures into your hand. “Do you really want to run or would you rather turn yourself in?” His voice is a little bit louder than a whisper, but it’s hoarse and you can tell he struggled to put out his words without cracking.
“I don’t know what you’re trying to achieve here…”
“I’m not forcing you to follow what I want to do” he explains softly, “But I don't think I can keep up with this if we’re on the run and you don’t even want to. It doesn’t make sense to hide from the authorities in that case. If you want to hand yourself over, just say so. I won’t judge you. Maybe, considering that you were an enforcer, you won’t even be harmed.”
“Why would you be willing to die?” Because really, the only outcome in turning yourselves in is death. There haven’t been any exceptions and there won’t be an exception this time too. You know that better than anyone else.
Kyungsoo smiles weakly. “Why? Because I want you to be happy and have no doubts.”
You don’t answer him immediately. In fact, he doesn’t push you to respond soon. For someone who stated that he doesn’t have any more time to lose, he’s incredibly patient and continues to drive into the unknown. However, his hand never lets go of yours.
There are a billion reasons why running away from everyone is bad and will only bring an even bigger tragedy with it. You’ve learned it all at the academy, all the possible consequences one will suffer if they don’t abide by the law. Just recollecting the memory of the lectures sends you shivers down your spine.
Against the billion reason stands only one reason why running away from everyone is good. It’s not even a real reason, it’s just one word. Truth be told, you don’t know yourself what the word is.
(Kyungsoo? Fate? Love?)
You’re still indecisive. You don’t know what you want or what is right. Do the billion reasons overpower the one measly word, or does the meaning of the one reason carry the weight of the many combined? The temptation to ask Kyungsoo is big but will prove itself as futile, you already know that.
As you try to figure out the right choice, you turn to Kyungsoo. He’s paler than usual, you notice. He hasn’t slept well for a very long time and is desperate and–
means the world to you.
Kyungsoo looks better when more color flushes his face. He looks better when the corners of his mouth tug upwards as he looks at his newest successful cake. He looks better when he’s subtly glowing from pride as he presents you his best tray of lemon meringues and urges you to taste them. He would be slightly pushy while doing so with one hand resting on your shoulder.
Speaking of lemon meringues, it’s been a while since you had some of his deserts. It’s been a while since he last baked. And if he’s going to die, you don’t want him to die with blood and guilt as the last things imprinted on his hands.
“Pull over. Let me drive for a while,” you say, no doubt laced in your voice.
Kyungsoo raises a brow and that’s the only reaction he shows. He does as told though, and in the next moment it’s you in the driver’s seat and stepping on the pedal.
“I think as long as we get off the mainland, we might have a shot,” you state, eyes focused on the road. From the corner of your eye, you see Kyungsoo looking very unconvinced and slightly irritated. When you place one hand on top of his, he caves in. You swear you see the corners of his mouth tugging upwards; relief.
You're right, Kyungsoo looks much better when he has no weight on his shoulders.
In no way is it a guarantee that you’ll be safer off the mainland. But it’s a start and that will surely prolong your last breath. It's hope, you realize.
(It's not your set answer, but hope might the one reason.)
Maybe you'll live long enough to witness the change. Maybe the authorities will open their eyes and realize that being with your other half doesn’t equal to growing dependent on them. Being with the one tattooed on your skin doesn’t equal to neglecting everyone else or being capable of loving one person only.
Maybe not today, but hopefully someday, finding and being with your soulmate won't be illegal anymore.
#kyungsoo#do kyungsoo#kyungsoo angst#kyungsoo au#exo angst#exo scenarios#exo fanfic#exo au#kyungsoo fanfic#exo x reader#kyungsoo x reader#kyungsoo x you#exo do#exo do kyungsoo#it's been a month and i still have no idea how to tag exo fics#look i just felt the need to write for ksoo#but along the way i decided to pursue this au#i had this idea in my notebook for the longest time but had no idea how to write it#also at this point my angst pretty much consists of#a soulmate au + every other random trope i like a lot#i love this baker concept so much i needed to include that in the tags
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Ok so Not a traditional question but how in the world do you have such a good follower interaction D: (Lowkey jelly lol) My stuff is generally well received, I get notes on lots of what I put out there, but really struggle to get input from the readers, even consistent ones that are in my tag list. It can get kind of demoralizing, especially when you ask for their input, you know?? (Esp since I’m continuously cranking out content) Hope you’re having a great day
Hi! To be completely and totally honest with you, I have no idea how I got so lucky to be blessed with such supportive people.
I’m always so blown away by the kindness I receive, and I do my best to put that love and kindness right back into the world, and to return it all back to the people who take the time to even drop by the old blog. I’m so grateful for people wanting to spend their sundays with me, or their evenings, or whenever it is they happen to be stopping by. So that’s why I try to answer every single comment, I try to respond to every single message, I try to acknowledge everyone who makes this space so enjoyable and fun to be because you all deserve that recognition -- authors and readers are very much a symbiotic relationship, but more than that, friendship is a two way street.
I try very hard to foster an atmosphere where we’re all just pals here, you know? Like I am very much just a person on the web, like so many kind folks out there. I’m not a celebrity or someone untouchable or someone who is too busy to chat. I’m not a big blog in comparison to some other people, I’m not very well known, my stuff is pretty received but I’m certainly not like a big shot or anything like that! I don’t consider people who interact with my blog or my stuff as fans or followers, in a way I see quite a lot of blogs doing, I really consider you all my friends, and that kind of laid back atmosphere is something I really adore about this little corner of the web that we’ve created together.
This is getting so long but like idk, that’s why I’m always so happy to have sleepovers, to talk with you guys about whatever, not just about writing. Yes the feedback I get on my fics is wonderful and I’m always on the edge of my seat when I post a new chapter of something to see your amazing reactions! But I’m interested in hearing about your days, your opinions, your crushes and your rants and everything else.
I don’t know, I don’t have a real answer. All I know is I’m really grateful for everyone who feels comfortable and safe enough to say hi or tell me how they’re doing or how they feel -- about anything, writing or otherwise
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Nothing Else Matters (Remus Lupin)
Anon: please write a remus x reader in which the reader is from a really old important pureblood family but on the down low isn't anything like them but comes across really cold (and like a bit of a mean girl) her and remus get paired for a project & he's all sweet & charming & she falls for him but gets mad & distant cause stupid remus & his stupid perfect face & stupid wit & stupid beautiful eyes running her plan to fly under the radar until she can get away from her family but happy fluffy ending
Warnings: angst, blood status prejudice, but like fluff at the end
Pairing: Remus Lupin x Slytherin!pureblood!Reader
Summary: When you get paired up with Remus for a project, you have to decide which is more important: keeping up the reputation of your pureblood family by never speaking to anyone, or flirting with the cute, charming boy from Gryffindor.
Word Count: ........like.......... 4.1k
A/N: This may have come out a bit more angsty than I wanted, or maybe not angsty enough, idk it’s hard to tell if it’s good after reading it through a thousand times so let me know what you guys think!!!!! Sorry it’s so LONG but I hate putting stories in multiple parts :///
Also, I feel like it’s confusing so idk but I really like this one :))
Also also #awkward it’s a sherlock gif but I’m watching it for the first time ever and wooooo I can’t find any better gif we love mixing fandoms
You didn't really have a lot of friends. It's not like you were a loner or pathetic or anything, you chose to be by yourself. If you ever had friends, they'd realize how different you were from your very well-known pureblood family, the (Y/L/N)'s.
They were one of the oldest Wizarding families, and all your ancestors had become either very, important and successful authority figures, Death Eaters, or both. People expected you to be exactly like them because you were put in Slytherin as every single one of them had. You didn't like the idea of ruining the family name, something that had been burned into your mind since you were little.
Maybe it would be different if the sorting hat chose any other house. Every time you thought about the day you got sorted, your stomach turned with regret at the thought that you could have been wearing different colors, probably with actual friends.
"Ah, yes, interesting. (Y/L/N)..." the sorting hat spoke softly upon your 11-year-old head. "I see you're determined just like the rest of your Slytherin family... you'll do anything to get what you want.... but I see you also have a heart of gold, you're loyal, you would do well in Hufflepuff. And, yes, you're also brave, very brave, like Gryffindors should be. Ah, and wise beyond your years, I see. You could prosper in Ravenclaw."
You gulped as the hat hummed.
"But what would your family say if you were anything but Slytherin?" it asked off-handedly.
What would they say? They'd probably banish you, abandon you, or kill you. Maybe all of the above.
"I see you have great doubts about the other houses. Better be... SLYTHERIN!"
If only you hadn't doubted, maybe the hat would have chosen differently for you. That thought killed you every day.
You never tried talking to anyone in your house or anyone in school. You kept quiet and stayed away from people. You worried what they would think about you and your family if they knew how close you were to straying from your family's path.
The other pureblood Slytherins always talked so highly of their families and other pure bloods they knew, like it was a competition of who could go back the furthest in their lineage without encountering a half-blood or Muggle-born relative. It made you sick to hear them talk like they were higher than everyone else.
You looked down at your hands as you sat at the end of Slytherin table. There was a good eight feet between you and the next person on the bench, so clearly no one else really cared to get to know you. You got looks from everyone, especially your housemates, that told you people thought you were a little weird or maybe even intimidating.
"Isn't that a (Y/L/N)?" was a common question you heard whispered as you passed in the halls, often followed with an equally badly executed whisper of, "yeah, I heard she hates her life and her family. She might have pushed that first year down the stairs. You know, the one they say had to be sent to St. Mungo's and might die?"
That's just how your experience was at Hogwarts, and that's how you preferred it. You didn't talk to anyone and no one talked to you.
Until one day, Professor Slughorn decided that apparently no one could research a potion on their own.
"We'll be starting a few very complicated potions and to ensure that everyone fully understands, we'll be working in pairs for the research and brewing portions. Everyone grab a partner."
It was one of the worst things that could have happened. Not only would you be singled out as not being able to find a partner, if you did manage one, you'd have to introduce yourself and they would either hate you and make you get a bad grade, or like you and want to be friends.
Slughorn looked around the room as people stood up and switched seats so they could sit with their friends and new partners. You sat still but the girl next to you hopped up in a second.
"Ah, Mr. Lupin, why don't you go over and partner up with Ms. (Y/L/N)?"
Someone placed their books in the seat next to you and you felt their presence as they sat down. You turned your head slightly to see one of the popular Gryffindor boys. You cursed in your head.
"Hi, I'm Remus," he said with a large smile and stuck his hand out. You glanced at him, then his hand, and looked back up to the front. His hand lowered slowly and he cleared his throat. "Alright..."
Slughorn continued the lesson. "Now, we will be brewing these in class as pairs, but I want you to research each of three potions and write a four and a half foot essay on each by next Tuesday. It will be worth a very large grade, so it's in your best interest not to fail."
After class was over, you stood up quickly, eager to leave before Remus tried talking to you again.
"Wait, (Y/N),"
You turned quickly, eyes wide in shock and confusion. "You know my name?"
His confidence faltered in your sudden speech abilities. "Oh, uh, yes? Is that surprising?"
How did one of the super popular, hot Gryffindor boys know your name? Did that mean you weren't as secluded as you thought?
You shook off the question and the thought about him being hot and raised your eyebrows to ask what he wanted.
"When can we work on the project? I like to get homework out of the way."
You crossed your arms and thought. "Library at three tomorrow afternoon."
He nodded and smiled lightly. "Works for me. I'll see you then, (Y/N)."
He put a light hand on your lower back as he walked past so he could get by you and your breath hitched, your skin tingling where he touched. A few other girls in your year looked at you with their mouths open slightly before they started gossiping to each other in hushed voices.
"How does he know her?"
"Who even is she?"
"Isn't she that (Y/L/N)?"
You rolled your eyes and turned to leave. Maybe you were more under the radar than Remus made it seem. Then why did he, of all people, know your name?
-----
You glanced up at the library door every 20 seconds or whenever someone walked in, hoping waiting for Remus to arrive. It was 3:17 and you were growing impatient. Part of you was excited to see him, but you didn't know why. You couldn't possibly like a boy you met the day before and even if you did, there was no way he'd like you back. On the off chance that he did like you back, you'd never date him because him being so popular meant people would start knowing you because of your association and you couldn't let that happen.
A flustered Remus walked up to the table quickly and set down his bag. "Sorry I—"
"You're late," you said coldly.
He hesitated. "I know, sorry. My friends were just—"
"I don't care. We have a project to do," you said in soft but strong voice. You looked up when he didn't respond, expecting to see the classic deer in headlights look when you said things like that, but were shocked to see a small smile on the boy in front of you.
"Wake up on the wrong side of the bed this morning, did you?"
"I always wake up on the same side," you said as you looked back down.
"Might wanna try the other side for a change. You seem a bit grumpy, (Y/N)."
You looked up at him again. Why was he acting like you were old friends? "Excuse me?"
He shrugged and pulled out his potions book. "So the first potion that we have to research is..."
"The Draught of Peace," you mumbled and he glanced up at you.
"Yes, right," he flipped through his book and you mimicked him, almost forgetting why you were there.
Remus had proven to be a very good accidental distraction.
While you two were writing, you heard Remus' quill slow to a stop and you felt his eyes on you. Without looking up, you said, "it's going to take us a lot longer to do this if you're going to keep staring at me."
He didn't reply and you looked up, your face heating up when he didn't break eye contact. He smiled. "Sorry." He looked back down and this time, you were the one staring.
"I expect you're wondering why I'm not afraid of you?" he started, making you wonder if he could read minds. He glanced up when you didn't respond.
"A bit. I hear what people say about me."
"Why do you assume I would be one of those people?"
You shrugged. "Figured everyone was one of those people."
"Well I'm not afraid of you because I know what you're like."
You scoffed. "No, you don't. I'm nothi—"
"Nothing like your family?"
You stopped, your heart beating fast. How did he know?
He nodded and dipped his quill into his ink and started writing again. "So is my friend, Sirius Black. His whole family is pureblood Slytherins. Of course, I'm sure you've heard of them. Gave him a right scare to be sorted into Gryffindor. But he's nothing like them either."
"What makes you think I'm not like my family? I'm a Slytherin just like them."
He looked up again and you lost your voice again when his eyes met yours. "I've never seen anyone's sorting take as long as yours, especially not a pureblood and especially not a pureblood if they really are like their family. I expect that unlike the rest of your family, there was another option for you?"
You nodded slowly and shyly. You'd never admitted that to anyone, but you trusted Remus for some reason.
"Which house?" he asked, like it was a normal conversation.
"All of them," you breathed, relieved to finally tell someone.
His eyebrows shot up. "Wicked. You're the full package, then."
A large smile slowly grew on your face and he mirrored it.
"Ah, so she smiles."
"I've just... never told anyone that."
"Really?"
You shook your head.
"Well, I'm honored, (Y/N)." He smiled at you for another few seconds before he turned back to his paper and wrote some more. You bit your lip gently, trying to suppress an excited smile. Remus smiled down at his paper. "It's going to take us a lot longer to do this if you're going to keep staring at me, (Y/N)."
-----
You became suddenly aware of how often you passed Remus in the halls. It was hard to ignore his loud group of friends before, but now that you and Remus had met and he knew something personal about you, both of you had a hard time not staring at each other when you passed.
"(Y/N)?"
"Hm?"
"How come I hardly see you around during free time and such?" "Because we’re in different houses, I guess."
"I know you're lying."
You hid a smile. "How's that?"
"You have a look."
"You've only known me for a few days," you laughed.
"Come on, how come I've never seen you?" He lightly kicked your foot under the table.
You shrugged. "Because I stay in my dorm. I hardly leave."
"Afraid of getting into trouble?"
"Partly, I think I would die if I got detention—don't smirk at me—but really, I don't have many friends."
His smirk fell. "Why not?"
"Believe it or not, people don't really enjoy girls who only say snarky things to them."
He fake gasped. "No way!" He laughed and continued, dropping the sarcastic voice. "Why don't you just be nice to people then?"
You shrugged. "No point. I'm afraid of people knowing how much I'm not like my family."
"You want people to think you'll most likely be a death eater?" You frowned at him. “Sorry,” he added.
"No, it's just... I'm worried about disappointing my family. I don't want to be shunned or banished from the (Y/L/N) family. It's just easier to... not be myself, I guess."
"You don't agree with their morals and things but you'll fake it to be accepted by them?"
"I know it doesn't make sense. I guess it's the other houses in me, internally fighting. I know what I want and what I believe, but I'm afraid of letting people down or confronting my problems. I'm trying to stay loyal to my family, no matter how messed up they are."
He nodded slowly. "Well, I like being your friend, (Y/N). Even if you are a... from your family."
"Why can't you say my last name?" You raised an eyebrow.
"Because if you're not like them, I figure you don't want to be called one."
You smiled. He was exactly right.
-----
As the days went by, you were starting to like Remus more and more, which terrified you. You had gone so long without making friends and now that your friendship with Remus was so easy, you were worried that you'd get too close. You had been under the radar for so long and doing so well. You didn't want to give that up for some boy, no matter how charming and cute and funny and sweet he was.
You tried really hard not to smile at him when you wrote your essays together. Honestly, you two would have finished a lot sooner if you hadn't subtly flirted the whole time.
"Is it bad that I wish we were brewing love potion instead of the Peace Draught?" you asked. Genuinely, it was only because you wanted to know what it would smell like to you. You weren't trying to flirt, though you didn't mind the response you got.
"You don't need it," Remus replied peering over his book with smiling eyes. You raised an eyebrow at him and he winked before turning back to his book. "But you do need a date for the trip to Hogsmeade next week."
He said it so casually that you froze. Did he realize he was asking you on a date?
"What d'you say? Would you like to go with me?"
You get your chest tighten. You wanted to go, but if you did, people would notice you and they'd talk about you. You couldn't have people talk about you and figure out you're nothing like your family. Your family was all uptight and never had fun, but you, the real you, were so bubbly and happy and cracked jokes all the time, Besides, none of our family would be caught dead hanging out with half-bloods and Muggle-borns. That's not what your family did. They were strict about their pureblood status.
"(Y/N)?"
"No."
"Oh."
"I mean, yes I want to, but I can't."
"Can't?"
You shook your head.
"Why not?"
"I just can't, Remus."
"I get it, but why? Even for just an hour?"
"It's not about because I don't have time, it's because..."
"You have a boyfriend? Girlfriend?"
Your chest hurt so bad it was almost unbearable. You felt like you were being cornered but it was just you and a few other people in the library. "No, it's because it's...you."
"Sorry... I just thought, you know... you liked me..." his voice faded with the saddest tone you had heard. It broke your heart. "Sorry, that's stupid, I don't know why I thought that—"
"I do like you."
"You're making no sense, (Y/N). Then why can't you go on a date with me?"
You paused, trying to breathe and not cry, both of which were not working out for you. What were you supposed to say?
His face turned from concerned to completely relaxed, but not in a comforting way. His shoulders fell and he say up a bit straighter than usual. "Oh."
"Oh, what?" you asked, hoping he was assuming a good excuse that you could go along with. Unfortunately, he was almost dead on with his idea. Almost.
"Nothing like your family, eh, (Y/L/N)?" he said softly but intensely as he stood up slowly and collected his things.
You frowned. He never used your last name before because he knew you weren't like them. "Wha—"
"Can't be seen around half-bloods, or traitors, or Muggle-borns, can you?"
Your eyes widened. "Remus, you know that's not why—"
"Why else then?" he tried, raising his eyebrows as your eyes filled with tears.
"Okay, maybe it is. But it's not because I care, it's because—"
"It's because you're a (Y/L/N). You can't go ruining your reputation, can you?"
"Remus—"
"Good luck finishing that last essay, (Y/L/N), you might need it if you've just been using me to get a better grade." Your last name on his tongue sounded like nails on a chalkboard. It felt like some kind of accusation, like the worst thing he could call you.
With that, he strode out of the library, leaving you with your teardrop stained parchment and short, labored breaths.
-----
The brewing part of the project took three days, each day you brewed one of the three potions that you had written the essay about. You could tell Remus dreaded those days.
"You sure you still want to be my partner? Wouldn't want my half-blood germs in it," Remus muttered under his breath.
"Remus, stop it."
"Sorry, you're right. As a pureblood, you have total authority over everything I do. I just had forgotten."
His words stabbed you with more pain than you had ever experienced, but you felt like it was deserved. After all, you did deny a date with him because of his blood status.
But it wasn't like that. It was because of your family’s opinion, not yours. If it was up to you, you would have been in Gryffindor or Hufflepuff and you probably would have been dating Remus for at least a year. Things would be so different.
After the last day of the brewing project, Remus packed up his things quickly and left with his friends. You ran after him, stopping him in the hall.
"Remus, please," you felt tears slip down your face as you looked at him. "I'm s-so sorry, I didn't mean it. Please let me explain—"
He just stared at you with the least amount of expression you had seen a person have, or not have. "Don't worry, I'm used to being disappointed by others, believe me."
He turned and you heard his friend whisper quite loudly to him. "Wasn't she your partner for the project?"
"Yes. But that's all."
"What'd she do, mess up the potions?" he laughed.
Remus turned to look at you over his shoulder. "Something like that."
He turned the corner and disappeared. You didn't know what you had to do. Did you have to stand on a table and profess your really really strong like for him? You let out a breath you had been holding. It seemed like that just might be what you had to do.
-----
Your trip to Hogsmeade was like any other, except this time, you had to avoid a boy in order to not cry. Other than that, it was lonely and quick like usual. All you needed to buy was a few sweets from Honeydukes, where you almost literally ran into Remus, and you were gone.
You didn't even try to talk to him, knowing he wouldn't care to listen.
By the end of the day, you had finally mustered up enough courage to go and talk to him and tell him that you actually cared about him, not his blood status.
It was dinner at the Great Hall like always, except this time, you were anxious for more than one reason. You sat facing the Gryffindor table, in direct line of sight to Remus and his friends, though his back was turned to you.
Dumbledore had finished his speech and everybody was eating happily when you stood up and made your way to Remus. People watched as you passed, curious about why you were getting up from the table. The Gryffindors near him looked at you and whispered.
You tapped his shoulder. “Remus?” Nothing. Sirius, who sat across from him, kicked him under the table and nodded toward you but Remus just shook his head lightly.
"Remus? Can I please talk to you? It's really important." His friends looked at you sympathetically but you stood your ground. "I'm not leaving until you talk to me."
He turned around and looked up at you, giving you the most fake smile. "Fine, what’s up? How's your day? Brilliant, so was mine." He turned back to his friends. "Bye, now."
You stepped back and took a deep breath. Filch spotted you by the Gryffindor table and eyed you. He starting walking towards you, ready to use any excuse to get any student into trouble.
You put your hand on Remus' shoulder and he turned to yell, until he realized that you were using his shoulder to give you a boost to get up on the table.
"(Y/N), what are you—"
You saw Filch hobble towards you quicker and all the Gryffindors were staring up at you as other tables started to realize what was happening. You were only looking at Remus, who looked like a worried mother.
Sirius glanced up but accidentally saw right under your skirt and giggled immaturely with James. Remus kicked both of them and looked right back up at your face.
"Remus John Lupin!"
"(Y/N) you don't have to—"
"I stand before you and our entire school, asking for your forgiveness!" you said in a dramatically poetic and totally not serious way.
He was red, his eyes not breaking contact with yours.
You lowered your voice from a shout to a desperate but still confident level. "I don't care what anyone thinks. Not anyone in the room, not my family, not Filch," a few people around that heard you chuckled as the old man approached you, but Remus was still focused on the 'family' part, "and not you, Remus. I don't care what anyone thinks."
"About what?" he snapped.
"I don't care what anyone thinks about me anymore. I, (Y/N) (Y/L/N), like you, Remus. And I don't care who knows it. In fact, I want everyone to know!"
His face dropped.
"And if you don't believe me, just look at me," you put your arms out and a small smile creeped it's way into his face. "I'm standing on a table in front of hundreds of people, confessing my feelings, seconds away from being sent to detention. That's three things you know I'm afraid of and I'm doing them for you."
He was full on grinning now.
"What I did was terrible, and I didn't mean it. I was afraid of letting down my family so I always stayed quiet and in the back of the room. But then you walked in with your stupid perfect face and stupid, funny jokes and stupid beautiful eyes and you were so charming and smart and sweet and you made me feel like me. So, Remus. Please accept this as my apology, and please, please, be my friend again.
He stood up and grabbed your wrist, pulling you down to his level again. Once you got to the ground, he grabbed your face and stared at you for a moment. "I'll do more than be your friend." He smiled and kissed you hard, beyond happy that anyone would do anything so romantic for him. "You should be in Gryffindor just for that, love." People were cheering around you but all you could hear was Remus' voice.
Someone cleared their throat behind you and your turned quickly to see Professor McGonagall looking down at you over her glasses. "Hallway, both of you," she said sternly and you quickly followed her out.
As soon as the door closed, Remus spoke. "Professor, please don't give (Y/N) a detention, it's my fault, I ignored her and she had to do that so I would talk to her."
"Your fault? Are you claiming that you blackmailed her to stand on the table?"
"Well, no—"
"Then perhaps used the Imperius Curse?"
"No!"
"Did you even ask her to stand on the table?"
"No ma'am," he said softly.
"Didn’t think so. Then it is not your fault, Mr. Lupin. Ms. (Y/L/N) is entirely responsible for her actions. Now, as touching as it was, it is my job to give you a detention!"
"Yes Professor." You looked at your feet.
"But whether I have to is entirely my choice."
You looked up hopefully.
"And as interruptive and frankly unsanitary as it was, I have never heard you speak more than four words to me. I was pleasantly surprised to see you give such a speech."
Your face got hot.
"But please, in the future, try to refrain from standing on tables when you need to speak. A raised hand in my class will do just fine" She gave you a reassuring smile and turned to go back into the Great Hall.
Remus turned to you and grabbed your hands.
"Remus, I'm really sorry. Seriously. I should have never let my families beliefs affect my own. I don't care what you are. Pureblood, half-blood, Muggle-born, muggle, even a werewolf," you laughed, "I'd still like you."
He smiled and wrapped his arms around you tightly. "I like you too, (Y/N). I'm sorry for yelling at you."
"You had the right."
"No I didn't. I should have listened to you."
"Stop blaming yourself. It just came out wrong when I said it."
"Oh for the love of Merlin," James groaned.
You turned and saw him, Sirius, and Peter by the door.
"Just kiss already, would ya?" Sirius asked.
You looked at Remus and smiled, put your hands on the back of his neck, and pulled him down to kiss you.
You knew this new thing you so had going on would attract a lot of attention. People would know that you weren't anything like your family, because a (Y/L/N) was dating the popular Gryffindor half-blood and she spoke her mind when she was around him and she participated in school events now. You knew you'd get a howler a week later from your mum or dad and probably not be allowed back home.
But you didn't care.
None of it mattered, except for Remus.
_______________________
Remus Tags: @knowledgeisthebomb @the-best-fanfition-ever @harrypotterimmaginaa @stateofloveandvedder @gryffindorprincess379 @finnofamerica
#remus lupin x reader#Remus Lupin#remus lupin imagine#marauder#marauders x reader#marauder x reader#Harry Potter
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Sound On InstaReadings Series Volume 2 with John Elizabeth Stintzi & Kyla Jamieson
Welcome to Sound on InstaReadings Series. Our second installment features readers John Elizabeth Stintzi and Kyla Jamieson and is hosted by Dina Del Bucchia. Posted here for your enjoyment are the bios of our fine readers and the text of their readings. Thanks!
John Elizabeth Stintzi is the recipient of the 2019 RBC Bronwen Wallace Award for Emerging Writers, and their work has appeared in the Malahat Review, the Fiddlehead, Kenyon Review, and Ploughshares. They are the author of the novel Vanishing Monuments as well as the poetry collection Junebat.
Excerpt from John Elizabeth Stintzi’s VANISHING MONUMENTS (for SOUND ON, April 24):
The concrete path, the door, the hallway. The house. I remember Mother stuffing me into down jackets and snow boots, hobbling me into the thick snow pants she’d bought for me at the thrift store.
“I bought it big like this because you will grow,” Mother said when she first pulled them up my legs as I sat braced on the stairs.
It was late October, which back then meant there was already a foot of snow in Winnipeg, and the rivers were frozen. It was morning. I don’t know where we were going. She’d bought me the pants with a too-big jacket because I’d outgrown the one-piece snowsuit I’d used for the last few years. I must have been around eight or nine. She rolled up the legs, took an open safety pin from between her lips, and started pinning up the rolls of extra length.
“If you buy big clothes, your body will know to grow into them. Do you want to be big one day, Alani? Like me.”
I don’t remember answering, but I must have, because that was back when Mother and I still responded to each other. My mind doesn’t usually decide to remind me of us speaking. Instead, I remember thinking about my body getting larger, as she pinned the legs, and how hopeful that made me. I wanted there to be more room for all of me, I wanted my body to feel as bare and roomy as our house did, like I could fit everything in. When I was in kindergarten, because it was too cold to have recess outside, our teacher brought out the projector to show us a documentary about hermit crabs. I couldn’t understand what the voice-over was saying because of its speed and accent, so I just watched the crabs switching shells and started to think that’s what life is like: you live as long as you can in one body, then once you can’t fit into it anymore, you move to a new one. And someone smaller takes your place.
For a while, I didn’t understand what growing up looked like, didn’t know how it worked. For a few years after Ilsa died and gave Mother the house in her will, Mother helped other elderly people in the neighbourhood keep up their lives in their own homes. Over the years of looking after Ilsa and me, she had perfected her technique of caring for fragile bodies.
Before I was in school, or during the summer, I went along with her in the mornings and wandered around the old person’s house while Mother was in another room, helping them get out of bed, bathe, eat, or take their medicine. I spent most of the time there either avoiding their mean old pets or walking around their living rooms, their hall- ways, looking at the family pictures on the walls. I remember looking through those photos for the old, frail things that Mother cared for and never once finding them.
I never thought that they could’ve been the result of one of the young bodies in those photos. After a certain age they stopped being documented, or else the newer photos were never hung. Mother hadn’t ever taught me about aging, about time’s effect on a body. I’d never seen a picture of myself as a baby; I don’t know that I’d ever seen a picture of myself at all back then. I thought that everything was inside me, that as far back as I could remember was as far back as I ever was. I assumed the people in the photos, in different stages of their lives, were each a different person. I thought I was going to be myself—a child—forever.
Nobody told me that I’d already been things that I didn’t remember, that as far back as I could recall was not the start of me, and that my life would consist of slowly leaving myself behind. I hadn’t yet realized that I didn’t remember anything about the year or two we still lived in Germany. All I’d known was that whenever I looked at myself in the mirror, there I was. Back then, with that mindset, things seemed stable.
“What does it mean being big?” I asked, as Mother took my hands and pulled me to my feet at the bottom of the stairs. She tugged at the pants, put her eye close to the floor—her tied-back hair flopping onto the hardwood—to squint and yank at the pinned legs. By then, I knew people grew, that there was no escaping the body I was in. “Why do I want to do it?”
She sat up—the memory is tack sharp—finished adjusting one of the straps of the snow pants, pulled back a little, and looked me straight in the eyes. Her face was so close to mine. I can remember the smell of her shampoo, the weight of the snow pants hanging on my shoulders, her hands grazing down along them on their way to brace her against the floor with that swooshing sound of scraped polyester. I remember everything about that moment, everything but her mouth. I want to remember her smiling, but I can’t see it. I can’t see her mouth or the inflection that the words came out with.
“Because it is going to happen, Alani. Getting big. You should be welcoming and excited for things that are going to happen.”
* Kyla Jamieson is a disabled writer who lives and relies on the unceded traditional territories of the Musqueam, Squamish, and Tsleil-Waututh Nations. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in Room Magazine, Poetry Is Dead, Arc Poetry Magazine, Vallum, Peach Mag, Plenitude, GUTS, and The Account. She is the author of Kind of Animal (Rahila’s Ghost Press), a poetry chapbook about the aftermath of a brain injury. Her work was longlisted for the 2019 CBC Poetry Prize and her first book-length collection of poems, Body Count (Nightwood Editions), placed third in the Metatron Prize for Rising Authors. Find Kyla on Instagram as @airymeantime or at www.kylajamieson.com.
BODY COUNT like every intelligent (traumatized) woman full of self-hate (shame) I have always been a perfectionist / before I wanted to be pretty I wanted to be on time / most improved most present best /my high school history teacher emphasized obedience / everyone I talk to remembers him fondly idk why / I researched the rape of nanjing / my paper was a failure / nobody really knew how many people died there / I couldn’t establish the simplest facts / it was hopeless / I forgot I asked for an apology from the prof people say I got fired like that’s what I wanted & not his respect / can writing be healing without inviting mockery? / according to google george orwell said journalism is what somebody doesn’t want printed & everything else is just pr / lately I worry the poetry I like is just pr / I wonder about the carbon emissions of a body’s decomposition / like is killing yourself better for the planet / anorexia runs in my family / studies associate it with trauma & perfectionism / I used to think I could trade obedience for safety / I rewrote my paper on gallipoli / I got an a / white history is easy / internment is only two letters from internet / that’s where I read they put us in horse stalls / my great-grandfather said I have three boys & we’re all willing to work / they were sent to a farm instead of a camp / fyi japanese soldiers raped nanjing / fyi it doesn’t matter how perfect you are / tl;dr I tried to be perfect for a long time & it didn’t keep me safe / today I went in the shower & shaved for so long my calluses fell off / I don’t like what this might be seen as saying about my politics like maybe I’m secretly as misogynistic as that man who’s in love with his sex doll as well as his sex doll side piece / but it made me feel so clean
I AM SO EXCITED ABOUT THE FUTURE SINCE MY ONLY LIMITS ARE IMAGINED
there is artificial grass here but that’s not what i’ve been smoking like all great millennial visionaries i am caving under the weight of my ambitions my grandma says life is a gimmick i google virgin-whore dichotomy plus intellectual how to define evil without capitalism what even is normal how valuable optometrists will be during the apocalypse i am not ready for the unending applause at that one point in trump’s address to congress was gruesome when will i see you again
EXCEPTING MY INFIRMITIES
concussed I land bed & sleep my belly is hot like heat I wear my fingernails are getting along the smiley face’s mouth corners drip condensation I dream of rivers & apocalypse opium in the dark & fear silverfish I want to write a chopped book in series voice jess sends smiling pile of poo I say to you little brother I can go to america on the internet
WBU?
I’m on Bumble & people are asking what I do for fun. How to explain no free will for a year, each day shaped by however pain appeared that morning?
I NEED A POEM
Can we talk about the moon tonight? Low & full in the baby-blue sky. A friend at my door, the sound of her laugh & well-loved heart. I want to be held up like that. I need a poem about happiness I haven’t written yet, an ode to the ducks in my neighbours’ pool, another for the pink magnolias of spring—some trees make it look so easy: yes, I can hold all this beauty up.
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