#listen I started drawing whatever this is because I was high on an edible- and then the edible made me go 'ayo lemme animate it actually'

[shubbzebubs]

I may not be able to use my drawing tablet at a moment I need it most... But curve tool got my back

[oakwolves]

Human Alan Dracula Notes

*most of this is related to Train Chasers

* Non-verbal, uses an AAC (augmentative and alternative communication) device as needed

* Opts to draw or write if his device is unavailable

* He likes to draw and write his own stories and plays

* Black Jamaican born n raised in Oklahoma

* He’s a fall baby (September 25)

* Cross country varsity at his high school as a freshman

* Slightly older teenager when he boarded the train, same as Kez

* He’d be in his early 20s by the time Train Chasers starts

* Innovative, created a high tech utility belt for himself on the train

* receptive multilingualist (understands and can write Spanish pretty well, understands German)

* autistic + adhd double whammy

* I honestly don’t have any specific gender or sexuality headcanons for him it’s just whatever I’m vibing with at the moment. Sometimes he’s a trans guy sometimes he’s gender-fluid sometimes he’s sapphic idek

* If you used any pronouns for him I’d probably nod along and agree with you

* huge appetite, not particularly picky about what he eats so long as it’s edible

* Huge external family, only lives with his older brother and grandfather

* Extremely strained relationship with both

* Alan Dracula isn’t his real name but when he was initially asked about it on the train the name came up out of nowhere and he stuck with it ever since.

* Huge drag show enthusiast

* Likes being outside on his own

* However he genuinely enjoys Kez’s company and could listen to her ramble for hours if it’s just the two of them

* He calls Kez “Bell” because of her earrings

* He absolutely caught feelings first, he’s just a lot less obvious about it than Kez

[shurisneakers]

shut in [3]

Summary: When your high profile mission goes terribly wrong, you’re forced to hide in a safehouse with a man you’ve never met before. With seemingly nowhere else to go, you’re forced to work together to figure out who is trying to have you assassinated before it’s too late. (Sam Wilson x Reader, Hitman AU)

Warnings: cursing, implied abuse, ptsd, fighting over beds

Word count: 2.2k

A/N: every part i introduce more anonymous characters smh. i also appreciate feedback so if you would like to, please consider dropping me an ask or comment ly guys!! also if you want to be on the taglist, it’s mentioned at the bottom of the chapter.

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part || Shut In Masterlist

“Don’t make me shoot you, Wilson.”

“It doesn’t have to end this way, agent.”

“How’s it looking out there?”

“There’s been some talk. Apparently Serpentine isn’t very happy that their intel is dead. They’ve got people looking out for you everywhere.”

A frown adorned your face. Sam was leaning forward on his arms, head turned down as he listened to Ransone.

“How dangerous is it?”

“I would say that everyone’s a little wound up. Best not to go anywhere even a little populated.”

“Noted.” It would blow over in a while. The media coverage of Pierce’s assassination would die down with the changing news cycle soon.

“I can have someone pick you up wherever you are. Just tell me where.” 

“Don’t bother. We won’t be here for too long,” you responded, Sam nodding in agreement. Once it quietened down you could leave, go back to Ransone without blowing your cover.

“Whatever makes you happy. Just let me know when you’re out.”

The click of the call ending took with it the only noise in the room.

Sam picked up the phone to remove the battery, discarding it to maintain your security. Burner phones were useful, but you didn’t want to take any chances.

“Wait,” you cut in, holding your hand out for it, “I need to make another call.”

The both of you were seated at the dining table. A piece of paper lay in front of you, playing the dangerous role of being the mediator. 

You were trying to ration out your supplies and create a schedule as a way of finding middle ground. Things were more or less calm for the last two days, but the fight over the bedroom was wading into territory that could only be solved by a good old middle school fistfight.

Currently you were figuring out a meal plan so that you could establish some kind of routine. With bread as the only uniting factor, the other three components were going on a rotation. You had reached all the way till Saturday before running out of possible combinations.

“I’m just saying-”

“Don’t.”

“We’ve exhausted all edible options, it’s the only combination left-”

“I will not hesitate to fatally wound you.” You were only half kidding. The ridiculousness of the ideas he was proposing was entertaining, and you knew he wasn’t being serious. It was hard to catch a moment where he was. 

“Fine. But in case we get to the point where peanut butter and jelly is the only thing that’s left, don’t say I didn’t tell you so.”

“I would rather die than shovel spoonfuls of plain jelly and peanut butter into my mouth.”

“Your survival game is weak,” he chided, tsk-tsking at you.

You only rolled your eyes at him, moving on to the next subject.

Bed.

“Easy, we just alternate days. You got the last two days, so I get the next two and then we just switch everyday.” Sam eased back in his chair, arms crossed behind his head leisurely.

“How long do you think we’ll be here?” you asked, writing down the plan he had just presented. The bed wasn’t queen sized with memory foam or any kind of privilege like that, but it definitely beat the couch with its odd lumps and depressions.

“A week tops. Anything more is just excessive.”

“Hello,” you said, voice low, even though you were well out of earshot of Sam. He was eying you from the living room window. If he was as good as he claimed he was, he’d know how to read lips and you couldn’t afford to have him do that.

“Code?”

You turned your back to the window, facing the large trees that loomed before you. “1993. It’s me.”

“Y/N?” He sounded suspicious, a little shocked, and you understood why he would be.

“Living and breathing.” You toed at a rock that lay ahead of you.

“Word on the street is that you’re dead,” he pointed out dryly.

“Not me; Pierce. I escaped. It was a trap.” When the rock you were playing around with escaped after a particularly hard kick, you started pacing up and down instead, “Ransone put a hit out on him because he thought he was leaking information.”

“How on earth did he come to that conclusion?”

“Don’t know. He was dead before we got there.”

“Who is ‘we’? You got someone there with you?” You didn’t realise it had slipped out during your conversation. 

“Another one of our guys. Apparently I was a backup in case he didn’t show up, but he did, so now we’re stuck together.” You averted your gaze to Sam who was still observing you from the window brazenly, intently. 

“Where are you?”

“We’re safe.” 

“Alright.” He sounded like he understood, albeit not entirely convinced. “Stay low.”

“Will do.”

With that you hung up the call, dropped the phone to the ground and crushed it under your boot heel. When you were convinced that it was sufficiently useless, you turned on your heel, making your way back.

You walked back into the house, beelining to the kitchen to make up for your missed lunch, only to be greeted with Sam sitting on the couch looking at you inquisitively.

“Who was that?”

“Nobody,” you answered straightforwardly, opening the cabinet to get two slices of bread.

“If it has somethin’ to do with this situation we’re in then I need to know who you’re talking to.”

“Just drop it. It has nothing to do with you.” You found the jar of peanut butter he had already opened, using a butter knife to spread it along the bread.

“Somehow I’m finding that hard to believe.”

“Believe what you must. I’m going to take a nap,” you answered evasively, chewing absentmindedly on the sandwich you had just made. You didn’t bother to look at him as you headed towards the bedroom.

“Hey now, hold on a minute. Who said you had bedroom privileges? You’ve been using it for two days.” You stopped in your tracks, face scrunching in annoyance. “If you’re keeping vital information about my life from me, then I think I deserve to not have a fuckin’ backache when I wake up in the morning.”

You quickly weighed the pros and cons in your head, imagining how the next few minutes would pan out if you just said ‘no’ and left. But in every imaginary argument you proposed, the bottom line ended with him prodding at you until he either got the information that he wanted or the bed.

Frankly, the bed was something you were willing to sacrifice to get him to stop meddling in your business. It seemed like the only reasonable way to get him off your ass.

“Fine.” You spun around to face him. “We’re making an arrangement.”

“Whoever has the bed has to forfeit TV privileges for that day.”

“Sounds reasonable. None of those three movies can be played more than twice in a row.”

That was more to preserve your sanity than anything. You had already seen each of them once, bordering on thrice for Die Hard. Sam’s fault, not yours.

“We should have a codeword. In case there's danger or something. Or maybe if you just want to be left alone,” Sam suggested, finger pointing to the blank space left at the end of the paper. “But it’ll be like solitary confinement since it’s so fuckin’ quiet here.”

Almost on instinct your mind flashed to images of dark cells. Quiet sobs. Blood stains on the wall, originating from clawing at it. Sunlight through one small window at the top. Utter loneliness except for yourself.

You could remember the soreness in your legs from curling up into a ball for hours, rocking back and forth. The smell of drain water collecting in the basement where the cell was.

Isolation.

“You got any suggestions?”

“Huh?” You forced yourself back to the present. Your knuckles had a dull ache in them from holding the pencil too hard.

“Do you have any ideas for a codeword?” Sam repeated, looking at you intently.

“No, nothing off the top of my head.” You shook your head, trying to regain focus. You loosened your grip on the pencil, letting it fall to the table.

“We’ll just leave it at ‘Brooklyn’ for the time being.”

“Yeah, okay,” you agreed to whatever he was saying. It was just a precaution in case something major happened. It was rather unlikely that you were going to use it anyway. 

Codewords weren’t uncommon in your business, but it was mostly used for missions or other professional standings. Regardless of being less adventurous than what you tended to work on, this was work at the end of the day. 

“Is that all?”

“Yeah, I think we’re done.” His chair scraped loudly against the ground as he got up. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going out for a while. Need to shake off the possible osteoporosis.”

You didn’t bother asking where he was going, ears following his footsteps as he walked down the hall to the bedroom, probably to get his jacket that he hung up in the drawer.

You left the paper on top of the mini fridge, alongside the car keys and a few dollars you had nabbed in the hurry from Pierce’s house.

Staring around you at the silent room, you realised that there really wasn’t much to do. It wasn’t like you to have so much time on your hands. You could always go for a run or test out some of the weapons hidden here. 

You had the rest of the house to explore, plans to draw up, a post mortem to assess what went wrong on the mission, even though the last option wasn’t possible without Sam’s cooperation.

Fuck it, you decided. Couch it is.

Kicking your feet up, you grabbed the TV remote to flip to the news station. The town rarely had anything to report on but it would be worthwhile to know what exactly was available around. Possibly assimilate in the crowd in case you wanted to be hidden.

It took you a few minutes of mindless surfing through static channels till you found it. It seemed like a scene right out of a Hallmark movie; the reporter was holding a microphone to a child who looked like he understood nothing of what was going on.

You were barely paying attention as it flipped from segment to segment, other things taking precedence in your mind even though you willed yourself to relax. There really wasn’t much to make a note of other than a few good samaritans and how utterly boring the lack of content was. A few occasional glimpses of stores and other resources available in the background were the only interesting part.

You were starting to drift off by the time it reached the breaking news of the evening. Sam had already come back when the sky slipped into twilight. He barely acknowledged your form lazing on the couch, only offering you a greeting and a goodbye as he made himself his dinner to take to the room.

Your eyes were just about closing when the breaking news of that evening came in. It was all politics. People you knew from old missions waving and smiling their way to lead their country as if the dubious acts they committed behind the scenes to get there was erased.

Until you suddenly jolted awake, eyes wide open.

“Wilson. Wilson!” You hit the cushion furiously to get his attention when he didn’t respond the first time around.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

“What?” he yelled in response, mild irritation in his voice. You knew it sounded like you were shouting bloody murder even though no one was around other than you two, but you didn’t care.

“Look at this!” You couldn’t stop gawking at the screen. “Fuckin’ unbelievable.”

“What? What do you wa-” He stalked into the room, ready to tell you to stop yelling but stopped mid sentence when he finally saw what you were so concerned about.

“Reports claim that the victim was attacked early in the afternoon at his villa. Officers say they found multiple signs of a forced entry, following which he was shot dead. So far no arrests have been made but the police have since released photos of two suspects of whom, they claim, have reason to believe orchestrated the attack.”

On the right side of the screen flashed yours and Sam’s picture side by side. Old mugshots from a petty offence you committed years ago for which Ransone bailed you out.

“The pair are said to be on the run after escaping before law enforcement arrived. If you have any tips on the whereabouts of-”

You turned to look at Sam. His stare didn’t budge from the TV as they once again reminded the public what you both looked like.

Years of anonymity, working in the shadows and creeping around to avoid being recognised only to have the entire country know what you looked like.

“Well, shit,” he finally exhaled. “Somehow I think our stay here just got extended.”

Part 4

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

selfie | jjk | 2

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: Is this a rom-com, slice-of-life drama with unsolicited social commentary about gender stereotypes, idol music, and the meaningless meaning of the word, “adult”? Yes. But also, Jeon Jungkook shouldn’t be in love with his hyung’s little sister and he is. Shit.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; mentions of depression, anxiety, loneliness; fluff, but also frustrating because flirt already, sheesh; loons-to-lovers; non-idol!AU - oppa’s bestfriend!Jungkook x SHINee fangirl!reader

happy lunar new year!! year of the ox - jk’s lucky year <3

–

previous episode.

2. in which the two loons getting somewhere, only for more misunderstandings to happen.

Is this too much?

You stared at the picture and the message. Jeon Jungkook once again. Sending a picture of himself at the gym. It was a while since the last one, so his hair was slightly longer now. Was he growing it out? Oh well, none of your business. You sent your usual reply.

?

You sighed and went back to your journal, only to have your phone aggressively sing ‘3 PM’ from the Animal Crossing New Leaf OST. Directly asking for a video call this time. You thinned your mouth into a line and closed your journal, sliding it out of frame before accepting the call.

Jungkook’s big brown eye filled up the screen, directly on the camera.

“Why don’t you respond like a normal person?”

“Why don’t you start conversations off like a normal person?” you shot back, placing a hand on your cheek and leaning against it. There was stationery scattered all around you, but your journal was behind the charging stand.

Jungkook withdrew his eyeball, frowning. You could see his entire face now, his long black hair tied up into a silly sprout on top of his head. He was still wearing the dark gray sweatshirt from the photo, but he seemed to be in his apartment. All you could see was the wall.

“What about the pic though? Is it too much?”

“Too much what?” you responded irritably.

He waved his hand, shaking the phone with his movement. “You know… Too, ‘Hey I work out and am attractive, pay attention to me’ much?”

You raised an eyebrow. “You’re not even looking at the camera. Or wearing a sleeveless shirt.”

He blinked at you. “Should I?”

You rolled your eyes. “No, those are things not to do. Picture is fine,” you added, shifting some pens away so you could rest your head on your forearms.

“Oh.”

He looked uneasy for a second before the camera jostled around as he scurried to a different part of the room. You puffed your cheeks and closed your eyes, not wanting to get motion sick.

“I’ve been playing Persona 5!” Jungkook said cheerfully, making you open your eyes to see him directing the camera at his television where the Persona music was merrily playing. “Just finished Sakura Futaba’s Palace.” He switched the camera back as you smiled and gave him a thumbs up.

“Nice.”

Jungkook seemed to spy your deflated form on your desk.

“What’s wrong?”

You breathed out. “Nothing.”

He frowned. “Doesn’t seem like nothing.”

You shrugged. “Just thinking.” Your eyes flickered to him, smirking a little. “You wouldn’t know about that, I suspect.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes. Other than that, he didn’t react to your remark.

“Thinking about what?” he asked, leaning back into his gray couch. His long hair flared out, sprout blooming against the cushions.

Your eyes shifted to the pens all over your desk. To your tablet, where you had been practicing digital drawing for a little while now. Just little drawings of cute animals, no people yet. To your journal, where you had been writing your diary entry.

“Lonely.”

You said the word without thinking. It was the title of your diary entry. You hadn’t meant to say it, but it was the only thing on your mind right now. Your eyes flickered back to Jungkook, who was watching you carefully. You sighed, feeling the need to explain yourself.

“All my friends are busy with school and their jobs. Oppa is always at work or with his girlfriend. Parents are always working.”

You could feel the distance between you and your high school friends. They were chasing your dreams and you were chasing nothing at all. You weren’t distant from your brother, but you were respectful of how much time he wanted to spend with his girlfriend. She might become his future wife someday, after all. Would you have a future husband one day? You wondered what he would be like.

You shook your head and shrugged. “But I did it to myself by taking a gap year, so it can’t be helped.”

“It’s okay to feel lonely.”

Slowly, your gaze shifted back to Jungkook. He was getting up from the couch, holding the phone up as he walked to what looked like the kitchen.

“I mean, you can’t help what you feel, right?” he said as he set the phone in a cupboard and went to the fridge. “Feeling lonely isn’t some kind of crime, so you don’t need to lock it away or anything.”

Jungkook picked up a take-out container and opened it, stiffing the contents. He seemed to be debating if it was edible or not. How long had that been there? You wanted to ask but then again, you didn’t want to know. Jungkook shrugged and dumped the mysterious contents into a bowl.

“I’ll talk to you whenever you want.”

You scoffed. “Why would you do that?”

Jungkook placed the bowl in the microwave and set the timer. The machine hummed as he turned around.

“To prevent you from feeling lonely.”

A butterfly danced in your chest.

You chuckled. “Why would I want to feel annoyed instead of lonely?”

Jungkook shrugged, taking out some chopsticks. “At least you have someone to be annoyed at instead of being alone?”

Two butterflies danced in your chest.

You huffed and rested your cheek on your forearms.

“Have you been talking to your Confidants?”

“What?”

“In Persona 5.”

“Who?”

You slapped your forehead. “Listen up, you monkey…”

“I’m an ox in the zodiac.”

“I mean your monkey gameplay…”

You began to explain the importance of Confidants in Persona to Jungkook.

-

That’s how you ended up in video calls with Jeon Jungkook several times a week.

He would usually start the call by sending a selfie, to which you would respond with your usual question mark. He was going to university for graphic design and worked at an electronics store part time. You, on the hand, were doing nothing. Well, not nothing, because you were clumsily learning digital art, but unless you were showering, you were always by your phone. Checking idol social media, especially SHINee. Sometimes your brother and his girlfriend asked you to accompany them to dinner, but you always declined, because being the third wheel was weird.

Also, watching your brother in love was weird.

Bleh.

“They always make out in front of me,” you were telling Jungkook as he asked why you weren’t at dinner earlier with your brother and his friends. Your brother had taken his girlfriend, of course. “It’s weird.”

Jungkook winced. “Yeah, I get what you mean. But I was there.”

“So what?”

Jungkook raised his hands. He was in his bed, rolling around in gray sheets. “Maybe you care?”

“I’d like to be spared watching oppa’s PDA, thanks.”

As usual, you were at your desk. This time your tablet was in front of you. You pushed the pen around, indecisively drawing lines and undoing your last action, twisting your mouth to one side, not really looking at Jungkook. He wasn’t doing anything of note, anyway.

“You don’t like PDA?”

You shrugged. “It’s whatever. I don’t really care.”

“What are you drawing?”

“Nothing good,” you sighed, putting down the tablet pen. The little cat character looked back at you, its expression the same bored and dispassionate face you usually had. You hadn’t really decided on a color for it yet. Maybe gray. That’s how you usually felt, anyway. You knew the collar color was going to be aqua though. A nod to your SHINee obsession.

“Show me.”

“No.”

“Come on.”

You looked up to Jungkook’s smile. There was a radiance about it. You felt the two butterflies dancing in your ribcage once again, fluttering, fluttering. His two front teeth where just ever so slightly too large for his mouth. It was endearing, like seeing a bunny. You looked back down at the little cat you created. Maybe you would make a bunny for Jungkook.

Pfft.

Why would you do that?

You laughed, confusing Jungkook as you placed your hand over your mouth, eyes squinting as you chortled to yourself, trying to imagine Jungkook as a silly little bunny. Probably one that worked out too much and drank banana milk every day. Probably loved to take selfies too. A cool bunny who wrote sunglasses sometimes and was probably altruistic and interesting.

Not like you.

Your laughter died down, eyes on the cat. You picked a cat to represent you because it was lazy and didn’t do much. Spent all day sleeping and staring outside, but never actually trying. Curious about things, but never committing.

“What’s so funny?” Jungkook asked, lifting the camera and holding it above him. You saw his long black hair flare out around his head. He was casually handsome, the kind of attractive that didn’t need much to be that way.

That’s weird. Why would you think something like that?

“Your face,” you replied, missing the usual bite you usually had behind your words. “You need a trim.”

He raised his eyebrow, pursing his lips. “You don’t like long hair?”

You pointed at the phone even though he probably couldn’t tell what you were pointing at. “The ends of your hair are splitting. It’s not going to grow well at this rate.”

“Are you a secret barber or something?”

“I’m a human being who cuts her own hair,” you replied impassively, sitting back in your chair.

Jungkook looked surprised. “Really? Since when?”

“Since the last time oppa attempted to cut my hair in high school.” You cringed at the memory.

Jungkook looked apologetic and ready to burst out laughing at the same time. “He tried his best.”

“He did not,” you retorted, remembering the botched bangs and blunt shoulder length cut. It was horrible. You went to the salon afterward and had it trimmed into a short pixie cut, because you would rather be bald than look like an overgrown coconut.

“The pixie cut was cool though.”

“Eh.” You shrugged. “Too hard to cut it by myself. Need some length to hide my mistakes.”

“Your hair always looks nice though. A little messy.”

You touched the top of your head self-consciously. Maybe you should start brushing it before accepting his calls. You didn’t really brush it that often because, well, who was going to see you? You basically only brushed it when you noticed a tangle.

Jungkook was smiling at you. His dark brown eyes seemed sparkly because of the overhead lights in his bedroom. The butterflies in your ribcage circled each other, looping round and round. You made a disgruntled face, reaching up read the current time at the top of your phone.

“Don’t you have class early tomorrow? Go to sleep.”

And then you pressed the end call button.

For some reason, relief and disappointment washed over you. Relief because there was a palpitating anxiousness you felt when you looked too directly into Jungkook’s eyes. Disappointment because maybe you shouldn’t have hung up so abruptly. That was a little rude.

You noticed you had a text. From Jeon Jungkook.

Good night.

-

Jungkook placed his phone beside him after he sent the text. He thought about sending a selfie too, but maybe that was too much. She had just seen him seconds before, anyway.

Why had she hung up like that?

He smiled as he remembered her laugh. He liked her laugh a lot. She hid it behind her hands and her eyes always squinted when she did so, nearly making them disappear. It looked a little bit like a cat when it was purring in satisfaction. Jungkook wondered what made her laugh like that. It must have been a thought, because he could see her face changing as she observed him. When she stopped laughing, her face was different too, becoming introspective.

She looked pretty today too.

Her hair a little messy, combed through with her fingers. That’s how it looked best, he thought. She had a natural prettiness, the kind that needed no help to be that way. Every action she did seemed cute, from the way she held her pen, to the way she twisted her mouth to one side when she was working on something, to the way she touched the top of her head, lips parting in thought.

If she wanted to be a model, she probably could.

At least, Jungkook wanted to take her picture.

He frowned a little. He’d been consistently sending her selfies before calling her and she always responded with a question mark. Maybe she wasn’t used to taking selfies? Or maybe, and what was more likely, she probably didn’t even care about them.

Jungkook exhaled, flopping to his side. Should he give up? But then he remembered her face right before she looked at the time. It was like she was staring at the screen, at his face. And for a split second, he swore he saw her upper lip upturn a bit, shyness in her gaze, a bit of pink flushing her cheeks. Was it just the lightning or something? His mind playing tricks on him?

“Bleh.”

Jungkook made a weird noise and plopped his face into his pillow.

-

Jungkook stopped calling you.

You wondered why. You had been kind of rude to him last time. Maybe he was mad at you? Maybe he wanted an apology? But you weren’t really sure what to apologize for. And it was weird to call without a purpose, right? And besides.

You didn’t really need to apologize to Jeon Jungkook.

He wasn’t even really your friend. He was your older brother’s friend.

You chewed on your lip, staring at the last picture he sent you. He wasn’t your friend. He was… well, what was he trying to do? Why was he talking to you? Maybe he was bored. Maybe he was nosy. You did say you followed his art Instagram, so maybe he was enthralled with the idea of knowing he had a fan or something?

But you weren’t a fan, per se.

Well, a little bit. He was really talented.

But not that much!

Because Jeon Jungkook was kind of annoying. He still hadn’t returned Persona 5 to your brother. Not that your older brother noticed, at all. He never finished Persona 5 and it was mostly your game now, with how many hours you had sunk into it. Jungkook hadn’t even known about Confidants until you told him. Hmph. Didn’t he look up game guides? Well, he should. Confidants were really important to the game. They helped you with useful abilities during boss fights by developing relationships with the other characters.

You stared at the last selfie Jungkook had sent you.

You kind of wished he was looking at the camera.

Maybe you needed a Confidant. You certainly didn’t really know how to develop relationships with anyone, except maybe your older brother. But that was because he was your brother and familial responsibility. Well. Not true. Your brother was really nice to you.

That’s why you folded his underwear for him, even to this day.

Sigh.

Jungkook did like SHINee though.

At least that was one thing in common, right?

-

next episode: 3. in which only a major event can bring these two loons back together – SHINee is back!

--

masterpost

[butiaintgonnaloveem]

Presents and Prizes and Sweets and Surprises

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Reader, Jack Kline, Mrs. Butters

Word Count: approx 1600

Warnings: Spoilers for episode “Last Holiday” and language

A/N: This is just my way of venting my frustration with the episode. I was going to do a kind of fix-it fic, but this turned more into a reader insert as concerned spectator kind of thing. No one edited this, so sorry for any errors. This is frustration and crack.

Poking holes, making fun, wishing they were doing better things with the last few episodes - you know, the fangirl business.

“There’s a what living here? And what does it have to do with your underwear?”

Dean rolls his eyes, “A wood nymph. She was folding them for me.”

“Since when do you fold your underwear?”

“Since Mrs. B. started doing it for me,” he shrugs.

Speak of the devil, or nymph - she scurries in from the hall.

Her eyes are wide as she looks you over, a disapproving scowl on her face.

“Dean, we do not bring lady guests into the Men of Letters bunker. Ms. Sands was an exception, but it should not be the rule.”

“Lady guests? I live here,” you glare as you over-enunciate each word.

Clearly caught off-guard, she splutters, unable to reply more than a few cut-off words as she looks helplessly at Dean. “A-a woman? IN the Men of Letters bunker?”

“Times have changed, lady. And I don’t know if you’re aware, but you are also a female.”

“I am a wood nymph,” she says haughtily, “Friend of the goddess Artemis, and not subject to the problems a woman may bring to this bunker.”

You start to move on her, but Dean steps in, gently keeping you back with a hand on your shoulder, “Okay, I think this could be going better. Mrs. B., she does live here. We don’t really subscribe to the whole ‘fairer sex’ thing. I was just getting ready to find you for introductions when you walked in. Now, I think we can all get along, right?”

He looks between you with a shit-eating grin as though he just solved the easiest riddle, even though he didn’t do shit. Mrs. B. stands there wringing her hands and staring at you with trepidation, while you eye her up, looking for any signs of malice.

“I know!” Dean says with all the excitement of a ten year-old, “Mrs. B. how about you bring out some of those butter cookies you whipped up earlier and we kick this off right?”

She turns to fulfill his request just as you answer, “No, thanks. I don’t mind fending for myself. In fact, I prefer it. Dean, can I speak with you? Alone?”

He shakes his head and looks at her apologetically. She just waves him off and leaves.

“What the hell?”

“Yeah!” you throw your hands up, “What the hell?! You need to tell me everything that happened since she showed up.”

Days pass. Once Dean had told you what happened to make Mrs. Doubtfire appear, you went to Sam, hoping for some reason unfortunately, it seemed to be a lost cause. Once she highlighted the monster radar, they were constantly on the run. A quick vampire nest here, a coven there. In between Dean nestled himself in his purple huggy nightgown and drowned himself not in alcohol, but in mashed potatoes and pie. She even had Jack drawn out of his new soul-based depression thanks to her smoothies.

_____

“Won’t you join us, dear?” her sickly sweet voice invites you as the guys line up pumpkins for carving. She wears a forced smile as she clasps her hands in front of her, still uncomfortable with your presence.

“Nope,” you pop with an obnoxious ‘p’ sound, “I’m super right here.” You wave your deli-bought sandwich in the air and look back to your laptop.

“C’mon!” Dean groans. He looks up from the face he’s drawing on the huge, out-of-season monstrosity. “Relax a little, Mrs. B is even gonna roast up some pumpkin seeds - salty and sweet!” He looks at her with an excited and expectant nod.

She looks back like a proud grandmother, “Of course, dear!” As though there were no other option, making your eyes roll into the back of your head.

“Like I said, I’m good. You guys enjoy your...whatever over there.”

They shrug and ignore you, laughing like children and throwing pumpkin goop at each other until she scolds them. Until now, Halloween was despised by Sam, and only an excuse for slutty costumes for Dean. Not that it hadn’t been tried. There were attempts at parties, birthdays, Christmas; Jody invited you all over plenty, especially after the mess with Mary. But no. Suddenly Stepford Granny appears and it’s all hands on deck for celebrations. Something wasn’t right, and for some stupid reason, the guys didn’t notice or care.

_____

Your research on wood nymphs doesn’t offer a whole lot, they are pretty rare. More kindly disposed toward men according to a source, which explains her reaction to you, and summoned to attend the gods on Olympus, which also explains her service kink apparently. Other than that, it was a whole lot of crap.

On occasion you find her in the library, staring wistfully at the photo of the Men of Letters who previously occupied the bunker, but once she notices your presence, she shakes herself from her reverie and starts puttering about, lamenting the state of things around her.

Dean is blissful. Sam had been reluctant, but even he seems to be walking around without his usual dark cloud. You want them to be happy, to have the memories others take for granted, but the way she side-eyes Jack, the way she passive-aggressively speaks about you even when you are in the room, it won’t stop nagging at you.

“What do you miss most about them?” you ask her one day after she sends the boys off with their crustless sandwiches.

“Oh, well, it’s hard to miss them much when they’ve just left,” she laughs, stiff with discomfort.

“Not Sam and Dean, I mean them,” you tip your head in the direction of the photo on the wall.

“Oh.” She takes a half step toward it, but stops. “It’s - they gave me purpose, a home, and a family.”

“What about your real family? The other nymphs?”

She straightens out her stupid, festive apron then, looking at you dead on, “Mr. Sinclair and those gentlemen were no less a real family to me than my natural brethren,” she pauses for a deep breath, then for a moment longer until a tight smile pulls across her lips. “Now, have you eaten? Are you sure I can’t get you...”

“No,” you cut her off for the millionth time she’s asked. 

“Well then, I best get back to work,” she mutters and wanders off.

_____

When you finally get the chance to corner Sam, he’s rushing while getting ready for his date and really only half-listening.

“And I just think that it’s really telling that Cuthbert Sinclair was the one to bring her on, I mean, he wasn’t always on the level with his magic and acquisitions and what the hell are you wearing?”

He turns around, smoothing down the brown sweater vest, “What? Mrs. Butters set it out for me. Said it makes me look dashing.” He smiles and shyly tips his head to the side, the way he does before giving his puppy eyes. All lost on you.

“You look like a sitcom dad. You’re just going out with Eileen, right?”

“Nothing wrong with looking your best.”

“Sure,” you agree with uncertainty, “But Sam, didn’t you look into this?”

“She was right about the first vamp case, she’s powered up the radar, and the bunker is on full blast, what’s wrong with that?”

“Because Sam! Magic also comes with a price, and when has a monster ever really been so thrilled to live in servitude? Or anyone for that matter? You think this is all out of the goodness of her heart?”

He looks at you, confused, “Yes?”

You throw your hands up, just as Sam checks his watch and curses under his breath before hastily leaving the room.

“What the fuck. Fine, you guys don’t care? I don’t care. I am fucking out of here.” No one stops you.

_____

Two days later, you’re called back to the bunker and very apologetic Winchesters, and cake.

“So she was a Nazi murder monster who also liked serving milk and cookies? Cool. Cool, cool. And Jack found this out? Jack?! I mean, no offense buddy, but Sam! You’re the lore genius! You’ve got this place set up with your own fucking Sammy decimal system, and you missed this!”

“I mean, if she was doping up all our food, like she was doing to Jack - “

“And you wondered why I didn’t want to eat her turkish delights! She had you guys running around with sack lunches like fricken four year-olds, all dopey smiles and rice krispy treats. I mean, I can’t believe you even knew how to spell ‘happy birthday’ all on your own and didn’t pull a Hagrid with how high you were flying on her nymph edibles!” You throw your hands up, nearly throwing your slice of birthday cake right off the plate, as Sam laughs.

“And you,” you point to him, “Mjolnir! Where did she pull that from? You weren’t thrown off with that? And don’t think I am letting you live down that sweater vest or birthday tiara. If all it took to make you guys so docile were a few parties and home-cooked meals and giving in to some praise kinks you seem to hae, then someone would have locked you both down already, it’s not like they haven’t tried. I cringed, you guys, cringed. My shoulders are still sore from it.  In fact, I think you guys really owe me for having to put up with watching all that crap go down. For being so right, right from the start.”

They both roll their eyes, Jack for his part just sits and smiles while eating his own birthday cake. Dean flicks his fingers in a ‘bring it on’ motion while pursing his lips in displeasure.

“I want a party. With drinks and store-bought cake with that really good frosting, and a banner that says ‘you were so right and we were so stupid and we’re sorry and we will do better next tim-’”

“Alright, Veruca we get it,” Dean groans.

“Just do better, and don’t forget my golden goose,” you smirk.

[spidercakes]

Have an ABO step brothers starker/ winterspider AU!

Warnings: underage characters, SIM type Tony, but only in bed, possessive behaviour, abo.

*

If Tony met Peter under different circumstances he would have done his best to get Peter into his bed with his ass in the air but no, he had to meet him when his mom moved her new girlfriend in and Tony can’t even be mad about it since May is great. But it does put a mental strain on Tony when he walks into the kitchen to find Peter bent over the island, short skirt millimeters from showing his ass reaching for an apple across from him in the fruit bowl.

He circles the island and gives Peter the apple, earning a slight pout for doing so. “I had it,” he says like his hand wasn’t still two inches away from the bowl.

“Uh huh. I’ll take my thanks now,” he says, glancing at Peter over his shoulder.

“Thanks, Tony,” Peter tells him, voice a little sarcastic and it make him want to press Peter up against the counter and ask him to repeat himself just to see if he’ll press his luck. He probably would too, pressing back just to get a rise out of Tony because there is no way he acts like that all the damn time without an ulterior motive. Except he does and its driving Tony nuts.

He distracts himself by looking around for a moment in the fridge and sighs, accepting that there’s nothing edible in there before grabbing a fruit from the bowl. Peter reaches for it again as he moves away from it and he frowns. “I wanted an orange,” he mumbles, reaching a little further as Tony walks behind him and he swears it takes every ounce of energy he has not to touch Peter when he spots the black lace panties he’s wearing. He keeps walking though, ignoring his impulses and wouldn’t Rhodey be proud? Admittedly self control isn’t usually his strong suit.

*

Peter would think Tony was oblivious to his charms if not for how frustrated he looked whenever he was around Peter. But for a guy who repeatedly gets reprimanded for having the attention span of a gnat and the self control of a brain damaged goat he seems damn good at keeping control in at least one aspect of his life and Peter is growing bored of it. He’d put all that effort in and it took him letting Bucky Barnes hit on him to finally get an actual reaction out of Tony.

Its not even like he’d meant it, its just that Bucky is hot too and Peter isn’t exactly picky so he thought he’d have a little fun. Bucky is clearly into it, leaning in to his space while Peter leans against the counter. He lets Bucky drift in close, tilting his head a little so his neck is sort of exposed. It works because Bucky’s eyes immediately drift to the soft skin there and he licks his lips. Peter grins, happy that his persuasions work on someone and he’s about to press himself into Bucky when Tony interrupts.

“Can you not basically dry hump my step brother in the kitchen, Barnes?” Tony asks, voice cold and the look on his face colder. Bucky actually pales a bit and takes a step away from him. Peter sighs, propping his head up on his hand as he sets his elbow on the counter, bending over in Bucky’s direction.

“Do you have to be like that?” Peter asks. He knows from the look on Tony’s face that Bucky’s eyes are glued to his ass. 

“Really?” he asks, eyes narrowing at Barnes. Peter looks behind him and Bucky shrugs a little, moving to sit by the island pointedly not looking in Peter’s direction. Tony goes back to rifling through the fridge and Peter makes his way around the island, pausing at Bucky before leaning into him.

“Should sneak into my room later,” he murmurs, hand landing on Bucky’s thigh and running up it for a moment before he pulls away and starts out of the room.

He can feel the way Bucky watches his every move until he disappears around the corner, so when Bucky makes good on Peter’s invitation he’s not surprised. He only looks uncertain for a half a second, confidence returning when he sees Peter in a lacy shirt and a skirt that was too small for him last year. The thigh highs are mostly because he likes them, and he likes the way they look with the garter belt holding them up. “Fuck me, you are ridiculously hot,” Bucky tells him as he circles his arms around Peter’s waist, one hand dipping down to cup his ass.

Peter grins, pressing himself into Bucky as he loops his arms around Bucky’s neck. “Yeah, I know,” he murmurs as he leans up and kisses Bucky softly, taking his time teasing Bucky with it before he deepens the kiss. Bucky moans into it, fingers trailing over the place where the lace of his panties meets his skin. Peter presses his ass further into Bucky’s hand as his fingers drift downward, slowly making his way between Peter’s legs to tease at his perineum through his panties. Bucky moans again and so does Peter, making it extra loud. Tony had had his nose out of joint all morning about the Bucky thing so Peter figures if he wants a reaction this seems like a great way to get one.

“Shh, baby if Tony hears you he’ll probably fucking skin me,” Bucky murmurs, fingers slipping underneath his panties to tease his hole.

Peter lets out another loud moan, head tilting back and exposing his neck lewdly for Bucky. “S’okay, room is soundproofed,” he lies, letting out another loud moan as Bucky rubs at his hole. He hopes Tony can hear this, the it makes him hot, makes him want to come and fuck Peter himself. But for now he’ll take Bucky.

“Feel so wet for me already,” he murmurs, ducking his head into Peter’s neck after only a moment’s hesitation. He groans into it, licking and nosing at Peter’s jawline. “How far are you gunna let me go, baby?” he asks, already testing his limit by pressing a finger into Peter. “Shit you are wet,” he murmurs, “so ready for me. You gunna let me fuck you? Please let me fuck you.”

He laughs a little, “can do whatever you want to me,” he tells Bucky.

“Anything I want?” he asks, voice breathy as he gives Peter a lusty once over.

Peter nods, “whatever you want,” he confirms, mouth dropping open a little in pleasure as Bucky presses another finger inside him.

“You wanna go over to your bed, make yourself look pretty for me?” he murmurs in Peter’s ear, nipping at his throat. Peter moans, curling into Bucky, fingers tangling in his hair when Bucky’s teeth hit his neck. “Mm, you liked that,” Bucky says, “so slick for me now. Gunna be drowning in it by the time I’m done with you. Go on baby, get on the bed.” He pulls his fingers out and Peter whines, giving him a pouty look. “Don’t look so disappointed so soon, I’ll make sure you get what you want.” 

He turns Peter around and smacks his ass before he prods him forward. Peter goes knowing Bucky’s eyes are on him until he pauses at the edge of his bed. He carefully reaches up his skirt, making sure nothing too important is showing as he hooks his thumbs into his panties and pulls them off slowly. Behind him Bucky swears and Peter grins, turning to grin at Bucky over his shoulder before he crawls onto the bed. He takes his time turning over onto his back, stretching out like a languid cat before drawing his legs up and then spreading them wide. He trails his fingers down his inner thighs and moans, arching his back as he pants softly like the sensation is too much.

It does its job because Bucky is crawling all over him within seconds, fingers back in his hole as his teeth graze Peter’s neck. He lets out a loud moan, hands curling over Bucky’s shoulders as he tangles one hand in his hair and one in the material of his shirt. “That’s it baby, moan pretty for me,” Bucky tells him, “wanna hear you beg for it.”

“Want you to fuck me,” he tells Bucky, “wanna feel you inside me.”

Bucky moans, “you want me to fuck that pretty pink hole?” he asks.

Peter nods, “yeah, fuck me please.”

“Mmm, that’s right Peter, beg for it like a good little omega,” Bucky tells him, teeth grazing his neck.

“Come on baby, fuck me already. I’m dripping for you, want you to fuck me so bad,” he tells Bucky.

“Shit, yeah,” Bucky says and Peter smiles, tilting his head back as he hears Bucky unzip his jeans. “Can I fuck you raw?” Bucky asks and Peter nods.

“Mhm, whatever you want,” Peter reminds him. He doesn’t look at Bucky as he presses into him, instead he imagines its Tony panting softly as he slowly pushes himself into Peter, making these soft little noises of pleasure.

“Mm, you feel good,” Bucky tells him, fucking into him slowly.

Peter huffs, “fuck me harder,” he tells Bucky, legs curling around his waist to urge him on.

*

The first time it happened Tony was pissed off and whether it was because one of his best friends deciding to sneak around with Peter behind his back or the fact that, as much as he doesn’t want to admit it, he wants to be the one in Peter’s bed, he’s unsure. Then Peter started making a habit of fucking Bucky loudly and it went from being a nuisance to absolute torture as he’s forced to listen to Bucky only half do what Peter wants him to.

By now he’s well versed in Peter’s likes and dislikes and he really likes being dominated, used. And listening to Bucky halfass listen to Peter’s requests is fucking painful at this point. He has to listen to Peter all but beg for Bucky to use him, push him into the mattress and take what he wants and the fact that Bucky doesn’t listen to him is straight up offensive. His incompetence keeps ruining Tony’s fantasies and its irritating the hell out of him. Peter already does enough work never using Bucky’s name, the fucking least Bucky can do after deciding to mess around with Peter behind his back is fuck him the way he wants to be fucked.

If he did that Tony’s jerk off sessions wouldn’t constantly be interrupted by ‘harder,’ ‘more,’ ‘tighter,’ and a hundred other variations of ‘do what the hell I’ve been telling you to do.’ He likes to imagine himself with Peter instead, listening to what he wants, gripping his throat tight as he fucks into him hard enough to hurt the next morning while Peter begs for more underneath him. He’d make sure Peter gets what he wants, what he needs, and he wouldn’t need to be told twice.

Peter lets out a loud moan, fake, Tony knows by now because he’s figured out what Peter’s real moans sound like. He hasn’t just heard him fuck Bucky, he’s heard him jerk off too, knows what Peter sounds like when he feels good. The next moan he lets out is real and he’s surprised too. “Do that again,” he says and Tony presses his palm into his mouth to keep from being heard. His other hand is fisted around himself, jerking fast to the sound of Peter’s moans and relishing when he’s loud and genuinely into it.

“Mm, come on Peter,” Tony whines under his breath, listening intently for Peter to moan again. “M’so close.”

“Yes!” Peter moans, voice high and tight and Tony bites his lip hard to keep any noise from escaping. “Come on, just like that,” Peter says, loud and breathy, “give it to me.”

Tony quickly shoves his pillow over his face as he moans not it, cumming loudly as Peter’s moans grow louder. He doesn’t believe in hell, but if he did he’s pretty sure that’s where he’d be going when he dies.

*

He swears Peter is going to kill him with all his short skirts and touchy behaviors but its not like he’s doing it on purpose. Peter is just like that, touchy, so Tony keeps his feelings to himself. He doesn’t even do much when Peter takes his arm and wraps it around him as they watch Star Wars, and he definitely doesn’t do anything as Peter shifts to press himself into Tony’s side, one leg curling up to half settle on him while Peter’s head rests on his shoulder. And he might have been able to resist that, honestly, if not for the way Peter’s breath hits his neck.

Its soft, intimate, and it feels good against his sensitive skin. He wants to tell Peter to lean in, kiss him there, to shift his leg up so its properly curled around him but he doesn’t. He stays right where he is, not moving a muscle as he prays that Peter doesn’t see the bulge in his pants because this is Peter, his step brother. But then Peter’s breath hits his neck again and he can’t help the small shiver he lets out because it feels fucking good.

Then Peter shifts his leg higher, knee grazing over his dick and he tries, really, but the small moan he lets slip can’t be helped. There’s no fucking way Peter hasn’t noticed anything but he’s still curled up into Tony’s side, back arched a little and that short little skirt of his barely covering anything important. He can see a little of the pretty pink panties he’s wearing and he makes his cock twitch despite his attempts to not react at all.

When Peter moves he doesn’t expect it, doesn’t expect him to lean in and kiss at the soft spot under his jawline. He definitely doesn’t anticipate moving his head to the side to allow it immediately either. “Peter,” he murmurs, unsure what he’s looking for and certainly not complaining when Peter slips into his lap, leg on either side of his hips. He buries his face deeper into Tony’s neck, kissing and licking up it in a way that leaves Tony whining for more. “Peter,” he says again, weaker. 

“Come on baby, I know you want me,” he murmurs in Tony’s ear and he’s not fucking wrong but...

“I can’t,” he murmurs, moving to push Peter away but Peter grabs his hands and plants them on his hips.

“Yes you can,” Peter murmurs, “want you to.”

“Peter,” he says with no real heat behind it, gripping his hips tighter.

“Let me take care of you,” Peter murmurs, slipping a hand between them and cupping him through his jeans. He moans, swearing softly as Peter grips him just right.

“Baby don’t tease me,” he tells Peter, “been waiting way too long for that.”

Peter grins, leaning in and kissing him and his lips are as soft as they look. He tastes a little like the cherry lip gloss that he likes to wear and the skin of his thighs is just as silky as he imagined. “Can you hear me through the wall?” he asks as he pulls back, dragging one of Tony’s lips with him between his teeth.

“So you did do that on purpose,” he murmurs.

“Mhm. So you know what I want, hmm? Can hear me ask for it?” he says, nosing at the side of Tony’s neck.

He laughs and flips them over, grabbing Peter’s wrists and holding them above his head. Peter lets out a surprised little moan, cheeks flushing red. “Hold those there for a moment,” Tony tells him, voice rough as he grabs at his belt, pulling it off after some minor difficulties and wrapping it around his wrists. Peter wiggles in excitement and by the time Tony has wrapped the belt around both Peter’s wrists and his headboard he can smell Peter’s slick. “This all it takes to get you going, a little bondage?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. Peter looks delicious under him, legs spread and cheeks flush as he bites his lip a little.

“Baby please use me, do whatever you want, please,” he says, not unlike his requests to Bucky that he never seems to actually listen to.

But Tony has given this way too much thought so he reaches down and wraps his hand around Peter’s throat, grinning as his mouth drops open and his back arches. “How about you shut up unless its to moan, hmm?” he asks voice cold and Peter reacts to it right away, letting out a small moan he has to push past Tony’s hand around his throat. “Good, now that we’ve established that how about I take off your panties, see what you left me to work with. All that fucking around with Barnes might have ruined you anyway.”

Peter wiggles under his hand but not out of discomfort. Good to know he likes a little humiliation with his dehumanization. He pulls his hand away and spreads Peter’s legs wide, fingers trailing down his soft thighs for a moment before pulling away. He reaches out and slips Peter’s underwear down, allowing Peter to close his legs long enough to rid them of his lace panties before spreading him back out.

He’s already dripping wet, slick starting to coat his thighs he’s so ready. “Hmm,” Tony murmurs noncommittally, sitting back on his heels and pulling his cock out. He doesn’t tell Peter what he’s about to do, he just shoved Peter’s legs apart and presses into him. Peter lets out a loud moan, thighs twitching under Tony’s grasp. He releases one thigh and wraps his hand around Peter’s throat as he fucks into Peter fast and hard. “Didn’t even get resistance going into your loose hole,” he growls at Peter. “Your fault for letting Bucky fuck you loose like this, should have saved your ass for me,” Tony tells him.

Peter whines, tugging at his restraints a little. Tony eases up on the grip around his throat so Peter can breathe right and speak. “Baby you weren’t fucking me and I had-” Tony cuts his words off by sharply increasing the grip on Peter’s neck.

“You didn’t have to do shit. You ruined your pretty little ass and now you’re going to make it up to me, got that?” Tony tells him. He lets go of Peter’s neck and he sucks in a breath greedily.

“Yeah, anything, whatever you want please Tony,” Peter whimpers, moaning when Tony grips his hair tight and forces his head back.

“Gunna take the only things Bucky didn’t. Gunna put a claim bite on that pretty little neck of yours and knot you full so you fucking know who you belong to.”

Peter moans loud, “oh my god yes Tony please claim me, knot me, mark me up please,” he says, voice on the edge of desperate and tony bites his lip to keep from cumming on the spot.

“Pretty sure you’ll have my hand print on your neck tomorrow,” he tells Peter, nipping at his sensitive skin.

Tony can feel the way Peter’s slick is dripping down him, his hole clenching over Tony’s cock. “I’m gunna cum!” Peter all but yells. “I’m gunna cum please knot me, I can feel it in my ass please Tony I want this so bad, been begging Bucky for it but he won’t give it to me like you, please,” he begs.

“Maybe I should leave you like this, serves you right for fucking with my property,” he growls in Peter’s ear.

He lets out a sharp gasp, “Tony no! Please no, I’ll do anything, just knot me right now, claim me, show me who owns me baby, who owns my ass,” he says, desperate and sloppy as he pants hard over Tony’s dick.

For a split second he debates on backing out but Peter curls his legs around his waist and Tony decides fuck it. He sinks his teeth into Peter’s neck harshly, moaning loud when Peter basically screams, back arching desperately into him as his legs curl tight around Tony’s waist like he can’t help but make sure tony will lock himself in. It’s no fucking hardship with the way Peter’s hole clenches beautifully around him, milking his knot for all that it’s worth.

He gives himself a second before he loosens his grip on Peter’s hair and pulls his teeth from his neck. “That’s the kind of fuck an omega like you needs,” Tony tells him.

Peter huffs underneath him softly, “that’s the best sex I’ve ever had,” he murmurs.

“Hmm,” Tony murmurs. “You ever want me to fuck you agsin you’ll stay the fuck away from Bucky,” he tells Peter, who nods enthusiastically.

*

Peter has his teeth clenched around his panties, wrists cuffed to his headboard with his legs spread open wide for Tony as he fucks into him with his fingers.

“I just don’t get why he stopped talking to me,” Bucky says over the phone.

“Couldn’t tell you, he hasn’t said anything to me,” Tony lies. Peter’s back arches up and he moans through his panties. Tony raises an eyebrow and Peter pouts, wiggling around underneath him as he tries to keep his arousal from getting too loud.

“And what the fuck happened to his neck, have you seen it?” he asks.

“Yeah, think he might be seeing someone else,” Tony says, pinning his phone between his shoulder and his ear Beck reaching out to grip Peter’s still bruised neck. His eyes roll back and slick drips out his hole.

“Who the fuck is he seeing, a god damn vampire with a choking fetish?” Bucky asks.

Tony rolls his eyes, “why don’t you call him for answers?” he asks, pulling his phone from his ear and ending the call. Real shame, having to pull his hand from Peter’s pretty neck but he’s more than content to reach back out and grip him tight. “Good boy, doing as you’re told. What do you want as a reward, hmm?”

Peter grins, “want you to knot me in public,” he says and shit, Tony can work with that.

[pennamesmith]

Fabulous Skeletor Powers

She-Ra sings. Catra tries. Hordak prays. Entrapta says hey, what’s going on? More ‘Skeletor’ stories. 

*

Catra awoke from a strange dream of She-Ra singing and dancing to the soft light of dawn. She yawned and shook the sleep from her head.

Adora was next to her, snoring as loudly as a landslide. Looking down at her Catra smiled and relaxed, which was a feeling she was still getting used to, nearly a year after the end of everything.

There had been times, alone in the Horde, when she had been unable to do anything but lie in bed at night and cry, trying desperately to flush out all the thoughts running around in her head.

Now, things were different. It felt a little peculiar. On bad days she still worried that she would never be able to make up for the damage she’d done, and didn’t deserve the happiness she had now. In her better moments she was able to remember that it wasn’t really about getting or having, but about trying all the time to see and return the love that had always been there for her.

Adora snorted and rolled over. Moving carefully so as not to disturb her, Catra rose and padded to the small kitchen of their Bright Moon home. Somewhere along the way she was joined by Melog, mewling and pressing against her shins for attention. She gave it, and the space cat’s tail twitched happily.

Without really having any particular plan in mind, Catra withdrew various ingredients from the cupboards and began to fix a modest breakfast. Before she had time to make any grievous cooking errors, Adora was suddenly awake and there behind her, hugging her, smiling, correcting the wayward cat’s mistakes, and adding a healthy dose of her own.

Before long they had something made from eggs and bread and vegetables that was not only edible but downright delicious, at least compared to green ration bars. They sat at their small table and ate and laughed together while Melog lay curled at their feet and purred contentedly.

Adora appeared to be thinking about something. She had one hand thrust in her pocket and her chin rested in the other, face screwed up in careful contemplation. Finally, she seemed to come to a decision. She looked up and leaned forward with a grin. “Hey, stud,” she started.

Catra burst into laughter, cutting off whatever Adora had been about to say next. “What was that? Was that supposed to be smooth?” she cackled.

Adora tried to recover. “Hey, I’m just kidding! Yeesh!” She waved her hands defensively. “I — Look, let me try that again.”

But Catra wasn’t really listening, because it had suddenly occurred to her that between the early morning sunlight streaming in through the window, the smell of their perfect breakfast, the warm, bursting feeling in her chest, and Adora sitting right in front of her, that this moment was absolutely, stomach-turningly picturesque.

That would have made her angry before. Now she felt something else.

Adora noticed her girlfriend’s distant look and reached out for her. “Hey, what’s going on?”

“Uh, not much!” Catra stammered, suddenly aware that she needed to get something from the other room, immediately. “I’ll be right back!”

She rushed to the spot where she hid important things, reached between a small bag of catmint and a little ball with a jingle bell inside, and retrieved a tiny hinged box with Entrapta’s factory seal of approval stamped on the lid.

She stuffed it deep in one pocket and hurried back to the kitchen table, heart pounding. Adora, in the meantime, had changed her sword into a golden toy mouse on a string and was letting Melog chase it across the floor.

“Oh good, you’re back!” Adora sat up straight in her chair and brightened. “Listen, I didn't really plan to do this right now — I actually wasn’t sure when exactly I was gonna do it until right now — but I’ve been thinking about… stuff. A lot. And this morning just felt so perfect and I was so happy that I thought, hey, maybe I should take a chance and…”

She trailed off. While she was talking she had withdrawn something from her own pocket and was fidgeting nervously with it. It, too, was a very small box, red and blue-black. Almost automatically, Catra produced hers.

They looked at each other soundlessly. A great number of things were said without words.

Ultimately it didn’t matter who broke the silence first, because the conversation would have been the same either way:

“So… I have a question for you.”

“I do, too.”

“You first?”

“Together.”

*

Hordak awoke to the sound of a klaxon alarm going off. Entrapta sat up straight in bed beside him, instantly alert, eyes wide with excitement.

“It’s happening!” She cried. “Variable A has been exposed to Variable C! The reaction has begun!” She laughed, maniacal and exuberant.

Hordak arose, much more blearily than his partner, and smiled. “I was wondering when they were going to get around to that. We finished making their rings weeks ago.”

“To the observation dome!” Entrapta shouted, leaping to her feet. “For science!” She scuttled out the door and away in a blur of purple and enthusiasm. Chuckling softly, Hordak stood and followed after her.

He stepped outside of their shared room in the Crypto Castle and took a deep breath as he prepared to climb the high stairs to Entrapta’s tower lab. He liked walking them; there were faster and easier ways to the top of the tower but the plodding pattern of his footsteps helped him examine and order his thoughts.

Going up the spiral staircase always seemed like climbing a great hill. It felt good to have hope, and a destination. The closer he got to the top, the more clearly he could hear Entrapta’s cries of excitement. It was like approaching a sun. That felt good, too.

Soon enough he reached the door to the lab (it was already ajar) and gently pushed his way inside. His partner was there, at work in the center of everything, cross-legged in midair as her hair stretched in a dozen different directions.

Entrapta cooed over her scientific instruments. Hordak watched her and felt something powerful move in his chest. Happiness branched through his body and showed plainly on his face. He no longer felt the need to hide his feelings inside.

Coming out of his reverie, Hordak realized quickly that Entrapta was not the only one present. Also populating the lab were Emily, who was doing a headstand, Imp, who was egging her on by playing peppy recordings of Scorpia’s voice, and a reprogrammed Horde drone Entrapta had named ‘Skeletor,’ who was shaking his fists and yelling.

“I’m talking to you, you dimwitted duo!” Skeletor shouted at the other two. “What is it that holds your attention more than the mighty Skeletor?”

Imp blew a raspberry and Emily made a dismissive beeping noise. They returned to ignoring him.

“How you vex me,” Skeletor grumbled.

Hordak looked away from this scene and approached Entrapta. She turned and made a happy noise, reaching out to draw him closer.

Entrapta eagerly showed off her equipment. “Look, look!” She pointed to one of the screens. “This reading means that both of the ring boxes have been opened. And this one means they’re both wearing them!”

She squealed in delight and leaned into Hordak’s shoulder. “And I could’ve gotten a visual, too, but somebody said that would be rude.” She stuck her tongue out, facetiously.

“There is nothing you could not do, if you set your mind to it,” Hordak told her. He pointed to the screen. “Tell me, what do these numbers mean?”

“Heart rate and endorphin levels!” Entrapta replied, happy to explain her machinations. “And it seems like things are going well!” She looked thoughtful. “Hm. You know, I’ve never been to another princess’ wedding before. I wonder if it involves magic? Or if they’ll have tiny food? What kind of present do you think we should bring?”

“I have read about Etherian traditions regarding this institution,” Hordak said, frowning. “This is going to be… somewhat more involved than our ceremony was, isn’t it?”

“If you mean that it won’t be in a lab and there’ll be more witnesses than Imp and the robots, then yes.” Entrapta had concern in her eyes. “What’s going on? Are you worried about the crowd? I know lots of tricks for staying calm in big groups.”

Hordak shook his head. “I was more concerned about how the other guests would react to… well.” He gestured vaguely to himself. “The ones who don’t know us as well as the happy couple, I mean.”

“There’s also Wrong Hordak. And Scorpia. And Perfuma’s getting to like you, too!” Entrapta pointed out. “Plus all the clones from our therapy group. You’re kind of their hero, y’know.”

“I cannot imagine why,” Hordak said. He looked away for a moment, toward where Skeletor continued to bother Imp and Emily.

“You pathetic pair of pitiful pinheads!” Skeletor fumed. “Some day I’ll have the power to destroy you! Some day!”

Imp grumbled and rode Emily to the other side of the lab, leaving the gangly troublemaker behind. Skeletor balled his fists and whined in frustration.

Hordak pursed his lips. “And that still leaves the matter of the other princesses, not to mention the citizenry. Ever since the revolution against Prime, I’ve hoped — ”

“And he prays!” Skeletor suddenly cut in. “Myaah!”

Hordak sighed. “Yes, even that. Every day. To the planet, or whoever cares to listen, that I have not done irreparable harm to this world. Or the fellowship it is made up of. But I fear it may already be too late.”

“Let me check the data!” Entrapta flipped rapidly through her screens. “Nope, Etheria is currently stable. Elemental readings are within parameters. You’re all good!”

Hordak smiled but did not look comforted. “Damage can go deeper than data, my dear,” he said.

“Ah, you’re referring to feelings being hurt.” The princess looked pleased with herself. “Well, I’ve got metrics for that, too. Everyone at Wrong Hordak’s therapy group is now twice as likely to initiate conversations with you while we’re there. Angry glares from people on the street are down forty percent since your cleanup and reconstruction work on Beast Island and Salineas. And...”

Entrapta put her hands on her hips and drew herself up to her full five feet. “You’re my lab partner. If anyone’s got a problem with that, I’ll fight them!” She stuck out her chin and flexed her arms.

Hordak’s worried expression softened. “I am humbled by your loyalty,” he said, sincerely. Then he grew pensive again. ”Do you... ever regret it?” he asked, touching a fingertip to the crystal on his collarbone and gazing at the matching one around Entrapta’s neck.

“A stupid question!” Skeletor interrupted.

“There’s no such thing,” Entrapta retorted. She picked the robot up with her hair and deposited him elsewhere, then turned her attention back to Hordak. “And to answer yours, no I do not. That data point remains unchanged.”

She flashed her eyes flirtatiously and handed him a graph. “Endearment, concupiscence, and intellectual stimulation, however, have all increased considerably. See for yourself!”

Hordak couldn’t help but smile as he reviewed her charts. The warm feeling returned to his chest. “I cannot argue with such fine research,” he relented.

“Data doesn’t lie!” Entrapta affirmed.

“You think you’re so smart!” Skeletor griped.

Without looking around, Entrapta picked him up again and placed him by the door. While he complained, Emily and Imp shooed him the rest of the way out, the latter playing a long recording of Skeletor’s own toothless insults as they went.

“You are still the finest scientist I know,” Hordak purred. He held out a hand. “May I assist you with your work?”

Entrapta beamed. “I thought you’d never ask!” She wrapped herself around him and drew him into her world. Hordak gladly followed. Together, they learned and discovered.

It was fabulous.

“Hordak and She-Ra, both defeated in the same day!” Skeletor said. “Ha! I should come to Etheria more often!”

[simkaswriting]

Bubbles-(Steve Rogers)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: swearing, Steve being a teasing little shit? 

Word Count: 1.2k

Summary: Steve and (Y/N) share a flat, and all things considered, it’s a good arrangement. However, Steve often forgets to lock his door when he’s busy. 

A/N: Just a little thing I thought of after seeing that gif, and wow I really have no control because I just had to write something?? Please leave feedback, it’s greatly appreciated and I hope you guys enjoy xx

All things considered, Steve Rogers is a good flat-mate. He cleans the dishes after dinner, doesn’t bring strangers over too often, and most importantly, puts the toilet seat down every time. He’s never complained about storage space in the bathroom or the burn marks that keep appearing on the kitchen table from failed baking attempts. Steve doesn’t even care if one of his hoodies goes ‘missing’ every other week. However the man has one big fault. He often forgets to lock his door.

---

Steve’s groans and soft ‘damn-it’s’ are the background noises currently disturbing the YouTube tutorial on pumpkin pie I’m so desperately trying to make. The dough droops over the side of the tin and the filling’s colour doesn’t resemble the one of the screen in the slightest. Fly-aways stick to my sweaty forehead. My apron is covered in flour and egg, and soon will be complimented by Steve’s blood.

I look over my shoulder at Steve, who’s furiously tapping the buttons on his PS4 controller, which is comically small in his large hands. He’s been at the game for the last two hours with a steady stream of innocent swearing and shouting accompanying him to my annoyance, hindering the progress of tonight's experiment. If only I could actually hear what the chef was saying, then the pie would no doubt at least resemble his. 

“Jump, Bucky! To the right, the right!” Steve exclaims as his fingers work the buttons faster. The headset is also loud, which further irritates me. 

Don’t get me wrong. I have nothing against Steve playing his games, and I don’t tend to particularly care about the noise level either. But when I actually need to hear what’s being said, it’s more than annoying, and (just barely)more distracting than when he walks around with just a towel wrapped around his waist.

I contemplate telling him off, asking him to maybe keep it down so I can finally finish making this disaster of a fucking pie, or just straight up clubbing him with the rolling pin. But the pie is done now, and I don’t see the point in starting this argument that we’ve had countless times before. Living with your best friend isn’t all that it’s made out to be sometimes.

So, with gritted teeth, I place the tin in the pre-heated oven and throw my apron on the breakfast bar. 

“-no, I’m telling you it’s the top floor. Not the basement. That’s just silly.” Steve’s voice is tinged with irritation as he bites his lower lip to stop himself from exploding. That’s a habit of his when he’s nervous or dangerously close to loosing his cool. A habit that makes me very, very happy.

Ignoring him and his loud teammates that consist of his best friends Bucky and Sam, I go to my bedroom and crash on the bed to entertain myself until the pie is ready, and hopefully edible. I scroll through all forms of social media until I feel like time has ceased to exist and my eyes will begin to bleed any second, though in reality it’s probably been around 20 minutes. The pie should be ready, but my bladder comes first.

I walk across the hallway to the bathroom and tentatively knock on the door. Steve is the type of person who wouldn’t lock the door even if he lived with 20 other people, so I can never be too safe. There have been an abundance of incidents where I walked in on Steve peeing, or getting changed. It’s as if he’s physically incapable of sliding the lock into place. But, my eyes are very thankful for this trait he has. 

The apartment is strangely quiet, and I take that as an answer. Steve’s probably in his room, or maybe he went out with Bucky.

I open the door and walk in. My eyes immediately widen at the sight in front of me. 

Hiding underneath a mountain of pink bubbles is a very naked Steve, with closed eyes and earphones in his ears. He’s humming to himself and gently tapping the side of the tub to the beat of whatever song he’s listening to. 

Fuck. It’s as if my legs have frozen in place, they refuse to move out of the room. Over the last two years of living with him, I’ve seen Steve shirtless plenty, sure. I’ve seen him in the kitchen at 3am making pizza in his underwear. I’ve even seen his ass one Halloween when the firefighter costume Tony bought him wasn’t particularly fitting for his form. But this is a whole new level of intimacy even for us. He’s a sight for sore eyes, that’s for sure.

Steve’s eyes open and he lazily turns to look at me. His brows knit together in confusion as he takes one of the earphones out. 

“I’m capable of washing myself, you know.” He teases with a small grin.

That bastard. I try to come up with a witty comment, something to throw him off his high horse, but my mind draws blanks. Over and over, until I’m just standing in the doorway, wide eyed with an embarrassed blush adorning my cheeks.

Sure, Steve is Captain America, the righteous hero of this country. A noble gentleman who is the dictionary definition of good values and manners. But living with him opened my eyes to a new side of him that the public isn’t aware exists. The carefree, lighthearted and not-so-modest Steven Grant Rogers.

Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes for a brief second, and place my hand over my eyes so I can’t see him. Both in the hopes of clearing my head of his astoundingly good abs and so that he doesn’t think I’m creeping on him.

“S-sorry. I knocked b-but there there wasn’t an answer.” I choke out, mentally slapping myself. Is that really the best I can come up with? I’ve seen him in more compromising positions than this. So why on Earth is this effecting me so much?

Steve’s booming laugh snaps me out of my thoughts. It echoes around the steamed-up bathroom, and it takes every ounce of willpower I’ve got not to glare at him. 

“(Y/N) you don’t have to cover your eyes. I’m smothered by bubbles. ” His tone is teasing, dripping in affection with a hint of flirtation. Or maybe pity at my current blushing state.

If I didn’t know Steve Rogers the way I do, I’d assume he is indeed flirting. But that’s not Steve. He would never, especially not with his roommate.

I bite my lip and shake my head no. Almost too quickly. 

“Nope. I’m good, Cap.”

Once again he laughs, and it sounds like music to my ears.

“Well, are you just going to stand there and look all pretty? You might as well wash my back for me.”

Wait, did Steve just call me-the ear piercing screeching of the fire alarm echoes around the apartment. Fuck, my pie!

I sprint out of the bathroom with a crimson face as Steve yells after me. 

“The offer still stands, doll!”

[bow-woahh]

Spop Fic recs (Catradora)

(finally)

Hello Catradora trash can's today I finally give you what I've been promising for MONTHS - a fanfic rec list. Because, if you didn't already know, I read A LOT of Catradora fanfic, probably too much and although I'm definitely not the best judge of...anything, I really wanted to make this post, so here it is, weeks late.

(it's a long one though)

I’ve written my full opinions n shit on like the first 10 multi chapters and one shots because there’s a lot lol, and some I remember better than others (tbf I've re read all of them at this point), but yeahhh. For the others, I’ll describe it in less detail and a bit more jokily lol.

I'm sorry I haven't just linked all the fics bit I just want this to be out of my drafts loll, and I can assure you most of these are pretty easy to find, I apologise for the laziness though haha

Also I’ve tried to find the all the authors tumblr or other social media, but I couldn’t for all of them which sucks, so if you happen to be the author and I left you out, please comment :)

Anyway, Y'ALL NEED TO GET ON MY LEVEL SOOO WITHOUT FURTHER ADO HERE YOU GO:

(here's a key first)

Key:

(o) = ongoing

(f) = finished

[G]=General

[T] =Teen and up Audiences

[M]=Mature

[E]=Explicit

Multi-chapters:

1. Upper West Side by ceruleanstorm (o) 100,000+ words

@princessofgayskull

[Modern AU] [T]

This fic is so amazing!! It goes so deep into their psychology and past and damn is it hilarious at time. Also, I love the premise of it - Catra is a Uber driver and Adora ends up as her passenger. It's a fairly slowburn as it goes deep into the two girls' lives and really gives time for the relationship to develop naturally and that is honestly really appreciated because it makes the good moments between the two even better and more rewarding if I'm honest. A lot of angst though. All the other characters we know and love are also written amazingly in it too, and are made equally important. All in all, I love this fic and everything about it!

As of writing it has fairly infrequent updates, but each chapter is 10-20k+ words and has 9/12 chapters so...there’s a lot.

2. For my Sake by doublepasse (f) 100,000+ words

@doublepasse-writes

[Canon Compliant][E]

The story and world building is just - WOAH. This one is quite the slowburn but boy is it worth it. It's set a couple months to a year after season one, where Catra finally captures Adora but the tables turn very quickly when capturing her nearly results in her death, which Catra (unsurprisingly) didn’t want. The story has some BIG plot twists and is definitely one of the best canon universe Catradora fics I’ve ever read and the ending was very satisfying, but also open ended, BECAUSE there’s a part 2 coming and I couldn’t be more excited!

(Also, there is one chapter with nsfw content in it, but it has a sfw version)

3. Skinny Love by Maychup (o) 89,000+ words

@maychup

[Canon Compliant][M]

Another amazing fic that takes place in the canon universe that has such great world building, and is very plot heavy. It takes place days after the S1 finale and goes from there basically. The premise of it is similar to many fics and one shots you’ve probably read - sleeping with the enemy. From the first chapter it seemed like it could have easily been a five chapter easy redemption fic but nooooooo, it goes a lot LOT deeper. I feel like this fic did such a great job on character development, Catra’s specifically, she grows so much throughout the fic. She is also such a mother to all her Horde pals in this and I love that haha.

At the time of writing, it’s still ongoing, and boy am I excited to see where it goes. It’s also super angsty and has a fair-ish amount of smut so be warned!

4. The Heiress and The thief by Fuhadeza (f) 58,000+ words

@fuhadeza

[Regency AU][M]

As it says in the fic summary, it is literally the She-Ra regency AU I never knew I wanted likeeee, it’s so good! Premise - Adora is taken by Lady Brightmoon, leaving her boarding school, and her best friend behind, Catra, and everything is fine until her old friend face resurfaces. This one had me screaming at times (most of them did, but this especially). It was a really enjoyable read and I honestly loved the way the author dealt with love and the way Adora dealt with her feelings and just ahhh- read it.

5. Faded with feelings by yesimgay (f) 24,000+ words

[Roomates AU][T]

This fic. I read this a WHILEEE ago but to this day this is one of my favourite fan-fics ever like it’s hilarious, and fluffy and unproblematic and sometimes you need that tbh. Everything you need to know is established in the first chapter but the way it is done feels so natural, as if it’s just Adora‘s or Catra’s thoughts and I love it. Also the premise is GREAT - Catra has ADHD and smokes weed to help with it, and Adora accidentally takes an edible, which is when shenanigans start to ensue.

6. Dream of Me by DBsean (f) 18,000+ words

[Canon Universe][T]

Although it is on the shorter side with only five chapters, this was another fic that was so so good in quality and premise. For whatever reason, Catra and Adora start sharing dreams, enabling them to share moments together that they (unfortunately) can't have in real life, due to them being on opposite sides of the war, and in turn - enemies. The angst in this fic literally KILLED ME, and the characters dialogue is so good as well! I also recommend you check out some of the authors other fics, they're all great!

7. we've been making shades of purple out of red and blue by darklady21(o) 19,000+ words

[Roomates AU][M]

Another Roomates AU, bUT instead of being best friends, the two barely know each other, or interact at all...GREAT RIGHT?!? Honestly though, I think the author did a great job in making it not seem too rushed, especially in the setup and establishing how although they know each other, they DONT know each other, so the first couple chapters are basically that stage where they are learning more about each other and leaving stupid post it notes around the house, and it just feels so natural and great! Updates aren’t super regular, but there’s already nine chapters (as of writing) so definitely check it out, as well as their other works too!

8. Razorback by Starr_Reborn(o) 22,000+ words

[Canon Divergence AU][M]

Apparently, the author wrote this with the intent of it being fluffy. From the title you can tell that is NOT the case. At all. This one HURTS. This is very very angsty, and also has some themes of rape in it, so if that kinda thing triggers you I might wanna skip out on this one. It is a really good fic though and stands out from a lot of the others because of the way it is written. Chapters aren’t usually longer that 1000 words and the writing style is quite disjointed at times, and it a lot of the time a stream of consciousness. At times it can even be a little confusing or hard to follow, but I find it makes it even more interesting, and also means it will probably be a fic I come back to once completed. It is genuinely so unpredictable, I have no clue where it’s going, but I really love it for that!

9. Sunflower by TechnoSkittles (f) 6000+ words

@technoskittles

[High School AU][G]

Oh, BOY. Oh boyyy. This fic - it's 8 chapters and only 6000 words yet the story is just- Ahhh READ IT. It's so good! And like the author in general is so amazing at writing like check out all their works (especially their latest one shot omg I loved it). Anyway, read this, it's not too long, it's cute and also genuinely surprising, the ending was not something I saw coming AT ALL, so YEAH!

10. I like me better when I'm with you by lesbians_harold(f) 22,000+ words

@lesbians-harold

[High School AU][T]

Just a nice, fun, fluffy high school, friends to lovers AU. Catra moves to Adora’s school senior year and the twos friendship is quickly rekindled, after a rocky start albeit. Adora is a big ol’ jock and Catra draws which is a headcanon I LOVE. It’s written so well, and the characters are also written well too! It is a lil angsty at times, but not to worry - but it does pay off, I assure you.

11. I thought we were best friends by vanilla107 (o) 45,000+ words

@vanilla107

[University AU][T]

Breakups. Lots of breakups, and angst. This one will mend your heart then hurt you. BE SCARED. But go read it. I mean it. It's good!

12. Dirty Dancing by LilLegalLoli94 (o) 9000+ words

@lillegalloli94

[Dancing AU][M]

Basically lots of (sexual) tension after years of not seeing each other because Adora moved to Brightmoon Dance Academy. It's good. Real good.

13. Back to Black by eveynull (f) 6000+ words

[Canon Universe][T]

(Post War) Gays go and visit their past, staring angst, and featuring your favourite co-star - fluff!

14. how things are supposed to be by maggiesbombshell (o) 11,000+ words

@yeunslegacy

[High School AU][M]

A jolly slowburn that will hurt your soul because (internalised) homophobia and gay.

15. Some things you don't see coming by Trashibesensei (o) 20,000+ words

[High School AU][T]

Adora being a big ol' jock, and Catra being a big ol' gay. I’m not even gonna explain it, you have to find that out yourself.

16. A quarter after three by Maychup (o) 11,000+ words

@maychup

[Youtuber AU][M]

Adora's gay panic settles in when she bumps into her childhood bestie, Catra, live streaming in the streets of LA. My favourite part of this fic has to be the YouTube comments she gets. This one will make you laugh. And go AWWW CUTE.

17. A Song to My Heart by DemiRebel (f) 8000+ words

[Neighbors AU][G]

The cute girl next door keeps singing loud, and it sounds BELLE, so what else would you do other than creepily listen?? 10/10 for premise.

18. Occupied by Nny11 4000+ words

@nny11writes

[Modern AU][T]

The most hilarious soulmate AU I've read tbh. One word - bathrooms.

19. Whispering Dreams by dragonesdepapel (f) 7400+ words

[Canon Universe][T]

Adora finds a wounded and sick gay so obviously, she helps her out, much to her protesting. This fic will honestly make you go through the five stages of grief. Big ol' oof.

20. Why you SHOULD bring in your untrained cat to the rebellion by locuas (f) 6800+ words

[Canon Divergence AU][G]

This fic is a literal joke. But it will probably be the best crack you will ever read, so. READ IT.

ALSO HERES A LIL SELF PWOMO OF MY MULTI CHAP:

What drove her insane, 13,000+ words (f)

One shots:

1. hang tight (all you) by TechnoSkittles 9000+ words

@technoskittles

[High School AU][T]

This is a fic that will break your heart and mend it. It's about Adora coming to terms with her sexuality throughout high school in a pretty unsupportive environment, added onto the fact she has a crush on her best friend. It's paced so well, nothing feels rushed and although it's only 9000 words, it manages to flesh out characters that aren't even in the show, and it obviously does a great job with the topic at hand - sexuality and homophobia. Like it honestly touched my heart, reading it I genuinely wanted to cry. I loved everything about it, from the moment it started to the last line. It's just written in a way that is probably relatable to so many people who are or have struggled with coming to terms with themselves, and shows how for some it's really not an easy thing. It's also written beautifully, and I PROMISE you won't regret reading this! Definitely check out some more of their works too, they're all great reads!

2. you're my favorite song (and it's stuck in my head) by artemiswords 16,000+ words

@artemisbye 

[High School AU][T]

A belle valentine's day fan fic which I just,, ahhhhh this is some of the best 16k words I've ever read, it's so nice and fluffy! Premise - Catra has to take the bus to school, and ends up sitting next to this cute girl on the bus, Adora, and listening to TayTay (Swift), sharing earphones with this complete stranger. Obviously, Catra develops a crush, but she is sure Adora is straight. It's written so well, and is such an enjoyable read, with so many great moments and dialogue. Music is a very prevalent theme (which you can tell from the name tbh) in it, and the amount of song references in it also make it feel so fleshed out in a way, like their both just teenagers with somewhat questionable music taste. Just all the exchanges they have are great, especially the ones over text and social media, there were so many funny moments too. DEFO, recommend if you wanna read something nice and lighthearted!

3. The Interlude That Never Ends by FMLClexa 2000+ words

Twitter: catrxs

[Historical AU] [M]

Angst. Quite angsty. But also fairly fluffy, it has a good balance. And the writing style is just so - it gets your heart wrenching despite being fairly short, and is also very poetic, and I don't know about you, but I love things like that! The fic is a historical/soulmates AU where they are bound to fall in love, no matter the period they're reincarnated in. It's one of the most creative fic ideas I've ever read, and the concept is executed so well, which makes it even better. And it's, so so damn sweet ahh, read it read it READ IT!

4.  is there a knife in your bed or are you just happy to see me? by ceruleanstorm 6000+ words

@princessofgayskull

[Canon Universe][T]

This fic was everythinggg, it is so cute, like it’s basically 6k words of fluff! Also, if you didn’t already notice, the title (and the fic) heavily references the fact Adora keeps a knife under her bed (I DIED when that happened in s2).  Set post war, Catra sneaks away from her post to visit an overworked and stressed Adora in Bright Moon and cuteness ensues. I honestly just love everything about this fic, we need more fluffy and funny fics like this! The dynamic the two have in this is perfect and the dialogue and general writing style of it is great! And Adora’s internal dialogue in this honest to god had me dead. Needless to say this is one of my fav Canon Universe one shots.

5.Girl’s Become Lovers (Who Turn Into Mothers) by A_Zap 2000+ words

@azapofinspiration

[Canon Universe][G]

This has to be one of the cutest, well written, fic I’ve read! Catra brings home the only survivors from a tragedy her and Scorpia stumbled upon, but one thing Adora doesn’t expect is for them to be children. The,, emotions in this are so raw and powerful. Even though they obviously have these new little people in their life though, their problems don’t just go away, they still have their own issues, and have to deal with them while looking after these kids. In general they handle mental health so well, and Shadow Weavers lasting effect on Catra SHOWS and it shows hard. Honestly, it made me want to cry at some parts and the ending was EVERYTHING, so reAd IT.

6. baby, i'm a house on fire (and i wanna keep burning) by wittchers 7000+

@huremsultan

[Medival AU]

A really fun fic to read, with a very original premise: after the Horde defeats the kingdom Bright Moon, Hordak is crowned, Queen Angella was killed, and Princess Glimmer is missing, which leaves Lady Adora forced into an arranged marriage with Lord Catra, to keep her people happy. Obviously, being an arranged marriage, with her enemy, she ain’t too happy about it, nor is Catra. But they have to put up with it, and each other. Honestly, like the development of their relationships is sooo good, and there is the perfect balance e of angst and fluff (if you can call it that?) so don’t worry it won’t kill you! Like ahh, the emotions in this - so well described with so little words. And the ending is great, in general it’s great!

7. Adora Casts: Zone of Truth by Hemogobbler 2000+ words

@hemogobbler69

[Canon Universe][T]

Literally just 2000 words of utter cuteness and hilarious dialogue haha. Premise - Catra has just defected recently, and is still warming up to Adora, is still slightly shut off from her. So, to try remedy this, she gets a truth serum from Madame Razz, and slips it into their food, leading to them talking honestly about their feelings for the first time in a while. I just love it so much because I feel like this is genuinely something Adora would do, and also something I’d probably do in her situation - Catra opening up is a rare occurrence! Also, as I said, their are some really funny, laugh out loud moments, which out of context are so weird, yet somehow manage to make a lot of sense. Anyway, if you just had a bad day, I think this fic would definitely lift your spirits.

8. bloom by kimah 4000+ words

Twitter: whitehotmoons

[Modern AU][G]

A post break up fan fic where Catra's therapist suggests Catra write down her feelings, which leads her to write the things she hates about Adora, and their interactions they've had since their break up. The way it's written is so... angsty but like, not? I'm bad at this. Literally, reading this I really felt Catra's pain, and I just wanted to give her a hug at times. Adora too. The small details the author outs into the characters makes the characters all that more realisitic too, and I love it! Seriously though, the angst, will, get, you.

9. I do adore by thankskelley 6000+ words

Twitter: cosmicsporks

[Modern AU][G]

A Catradora fake dating AU. Is there anything more you need in life? Catra and Adora are are roomates, and one day, Adora bursts in, saying she finally came out to her parents, and also that her parent had assumed they are dating... leading her to ask if Catra could pretend to be her girlfriend for while. What could possibly go wrong? Hmm?? I've always loved the whole fake dating premise (to all the boyss) and with characters like Adora and Catra, (especially Catra like she is a TEASE) I always thought it'd be great. Who doesn't love oblivious gays? Their dynamic in this is also great, especially all the flirting and teasing. BUT, of course, it also a bit angsty too. I can promise you you'll love it!

10. Chocolate and Roses vs. Heartache by Trashibesensei 9000+ words

[High School AU][T]

Another high school AU...I know I have a problem leave me alone. This time, if you couldn’t tell by the title, there’s some heartache involved, because: this Valentines Day, Adora doesn’t spend it with her best friend (now ex bestie) Catra. Even despite her popularity that she now has due to being the star player of Bright Moon’s soccer team, she can’t shake of how much she yearns for her old friend. Somehow, even with all the angst, it is still sO fucking FUNNY, the way Mermista was written was great, and she had some of THE best lines. But yeah, it’s so pure and just - Catra needs a hug, Adora needs a hug, they need to hug EACH other tbh! It had a very nice and hopeful message, and also kinda surprised me with the end.

11. someone you like by caela 5000+ words

[High School AU][T]

As a gen z, or x, or whatever the fuck I am, I always appreciate a fic where the characters say stupid shit over Instagram to their crushes which results it getting a date to prom. Although I can assure you that would never happen to me. But this So FUCKING cute and funny so READ.

12. this is what it's like when we collide (this is how you bring me back to life) by azul (7daysoftorture) 5000+ words

@bluelipgloss

[Canon Universe][G]

This galaxy brain fic is amazing and that’s ThE TEA. Catra gets a wish stone from Hordak and we all knowww, WHO she (subconsciously) craves - Adora, which obviously leads to hell breaking loose, because, disaster gays. Anyway read this it’s great and made me feel forget about the cruel world we live in.

13. Five Times Catra was a Cat and One Time the Cat was Catra by sunscreams 2400+ words

@catradoramma

[Canon Universe][T]

A BELLE, well written 5 + 1 which is just pure fluff (some hurt/comfort too) and Catra being Catra (so a loveable pain in the ass) after joining Adora in Bright Moon.

14. Vital Signs by SereneKarma 2000+ words

@serene-karma

[Modern AU][G]

Like a dumbass Catra breaks her leg and gets put in hospital, but hey - it’s okay as long as she’s got a cute nurse to look after her! It’s pretty funny just based on the concept alone so read ThIs BiSh.

15. You put the cracks into my moral code by Littleamethystc 3000+ words

@littleamethystc

[Gang AU][T]

Catra is a hotshot mafia member, Glimmer and Bow are the PoPo, and Adora is underestimated as HELL. It’s also pretty funny, like the whole concept is just perfect, so check it out!

16. The Best Gift I Could Ever Ask For by blueninjasharpshooter 1500+ words

[Modern AU][G]

Just a short n sweet fic of Adora celebrating her birthday which she forgot, and also Adora has a pocket knife in her boot, which is so accurate lmaooo. As well as having the most accurate character portrayals, AWWWWwwwww, was my reaction to the end of this fic, so read it to find out wHY.

17. but i still don’t wish death on ‘em (i just reflect on ‘em) by ayushi_writes 1500+ words

@ayushipop

[Canon Universe][G]

(Post S1) A year after the battle of Bright Moon, Adora and Catra are standing on a cliff, and Catra finally has a chance to end it all. But WilL she?!?!  Let’s just say, Catradora are the queens of promises.

18. Whiskey and Eggnog by briony8969 3500+ words

@briony8969

[Modern Christmas AU][G]

A cute Christmas fic where a nervous Adora goes home for the first time in months with her new friends from college, scared of what they’ll think but more scared of a certain SOMEONE she hasn’t spoken to in months. So basically: sexual tension gAlore.

19. She's a Regular by BaronVonChop 1500+ words

@baronvonchop

[Coffee Shop AU][G]

Adora is gay. Catra is gay. Catra works at a coffee shop (badly), and Adora goes to said coffee shop soo much, that it gets on her friends nerves, coz she very obviously likes to flirt with a Catra. It’s funny too. That’s it. That’s the fic and I love it.

20. Hand in Hand, We Make Our Way to The End by thethirdphiladelphiavireo 6500+ words

[Canon Universe - Soulmate AU][T]

Catra and Adora figure out they are soulmates after years of not knowing what it meant, but OBVIOUSLY, cannot communicate like mature humans, because - same.

21. How Do You Tell A Girl You Really Like Her Eyes? by Gay_Panic 1000+ words

[Canon Universe][T]

(Pre Canon)Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, a very gay, very wholesome, very nice first kiss fic. They are very gay for each other in this one, they don’t even care if KYLE catches them kissing.

22. Tender Moments by yesimgay 1500+ words

[Canon Universe][G]

(Post-war) Catra still feels guilty about everything she did to Adora in the past, so instead of sleeping at the foot of the bed as usual , she decides to sleep next to Adora...So there’s fluff, lots of fluff, and it is very tender.

23. Perfectly intertwined by dragonesdepapel 2000+ words

[Canon Universe][G]

On Catra’s first official day in Bright Moon, Adora drags her to a festival and they do cute things and it’s cute, and you should defo read it.

24. a girl without freckles is like a sky without stars by dear_universe 900+ words

@catralovesgirls

[Canon Universe][G]

More bed sharing because I CANNOT help myself, I love fics like these! Catra can’t sleep without Adora on her first night at the rebellion, so, she knocks on Adora’s door and things go from there.

25. Something to remember you by by DBsean 3000+ words

[Canon Universe][G]

Adora sneaks back into the fright zone in attempt to retrieve something, when Catra catches her. It’s cute af. Despite the circumstances.

26. Skiffs & Ships by mysteryinc 900+ words

[Canon Universe][G]

(Pre-show) Just two gals being pals who missed each other a fuck ton while on separate missions. It’s pretty cute.

27. Starstruck by InvisiblePinkToast 2500+ words

@invisible-pink-toast

[Canon Universe][G]

(Pre-show) A lil bit of angst, and nightmares, and a little bit of fluff, Stargazing and bed sharing - what more could you need?

28. a truth so loud you can't ignore by adverbialstarlight 2500+ words

@adverbialstarlight

[High School AU][T]

Catra ignores the growing feelings she has for her best friend, until the truth is so loud she can’t ignore it (see what I did there?) But for real tho this fic really gave me angst that hurt my soul then fluff that healed it, so we StAN.

29. Horde kids are just Like That by gerti 1500+ words

[Canon Universe][T]

(Canon Divergence) What would happen if when Adora defected the Horde, her and  Catra where still girlfriends? Read this to find out because it’s FUCKING hilarious lmaoooo, like it’s so absurd but somehow still makes perfect sense.

30. The First Step by oldmountainsoul 2900+ words

[Canon Universe][T]

(Post S1) Apologies which end in getting shoved out off trees are now exclusively for the Catradora fandom only.

31. (You’re My) Haven by giraffewrites 400+ words

@giraffewrites

[Canon Universe - Pre Canon][G]

(Pre-Canon) Adora only kisses Catra when she thinks she’s asleep, but my girl Catra ain’t playing no more so one night she just goes in for the KILL, Aka, cute dorks just being cute dorks.

32. Beyond the Screen by SereneKarma 5000+ words

@serene-karma

[Youtuber AU][G]

If you can't tell I really like YouTuber AU's. Catra being the angsty gal she is starts a YouTube channel to rant about her old best friend who practically vanished when she was 15, and her viewers (who definitely have no life) end up finding her.

33. come on, sugar, don't you leave early by thesqian 1500+ words

Twitter: @crnkgmeplys

[Modern AU][G]

Two gays at a gay wedding, who clearly have some shit going on, but it’s okay because gay weddings always bring gays together. I said gay a lot in that sentence. Read the fic, it’s short n sweet and cute, so you can’t go wrong!

34. but we could never stay away (from each other) by adorassword 1500+ words

[Canon Universe][T]

Catra and Adora have a nice, not so nice chit chat on Adora’s balcony late at night, - these two need LOVE, and I needed a hug after reading this coz damn. Damn.

35. bad ideas by ranpoandpoe 1000+ words

[University AU][T]

How we all wish thinking about your crush at 2am would go. That’s the only context I’m giving, so READ IT.

Also, here are some of my fav one shots I’ve written:

Two Sides Of The Same Coin 1000+ words

[Gang AU][T]

If I was perfect 2500+ words

[Modern AU][T]

And check out my Catradora week series, however my fav is:

damn you, unrequited love 7000+ words

[Modern/Sixth Form AU][T]

Here are some more series packed with fics that I’ve really enjoyed too!

Catradora Oneshots by clicheusername5678 @hey-adora

Catradora Tumblr Prompts BY sunscreams @catradoramma

if I grind my teeth at night, would you hear it? By poetroe

in the bottom of a coffee cup  + pieces by inkwelled (their stuff is great)

Twitter: adorascatrq

Anyway, I hope you guys appreciate this, it took quite a while lol. I had a lot of fun making it, and I hope you check out some of the fics on the list (maybe all if you're a crazy mf)

Until next time (:

[master-sass-blast]

Planning Pains

Whoooo boy. Gonna have to slap a big ol’ trigger warning on this one.

Summary: You attempt to start planning your upcoming wedding with Piotr --and run into a major emotional wall instead.

Rating: T for adult language, past child abuse, mentions of abuse, trauma from said abuse, and just a lot of anger, angst, and emotional pain.

Set after ‘Questions and Answers’ and before ‘The Literal Crack Fic.’

Also

TRIGGER WARNING: If you’ve got any hang ups on your ability to be loved or be in a relationship (which I absolutely understand and am not judging anyone for because I went through the same stuff as a teenager), this may not be the fic for you! This fic deals extensively with being led to believe that you (as the character of the Reader, not you irl obvs) weren’t worthy of being loved and the trauma that extended from that, and even if you haven’t suffered the abuse and gaslighting that I’ve detailed for the CHC, it’s heavy.

Obviously, y’all are fully capable of making your own grown-ass decisions, but I wanted to put it out there. Just in case.

Taglist:  @marvel-is-perfection, @chromecutie, @super-darkcloudstudent, @girl-obsessed-with-things, @starman-thorsus-canos-jock

(Want to be added to the taglist? Send me a DM! Seriously, DM me, I don’t trust Tumblr’s ask box system or reblog notification system to catch everything lol.)

You should be able to do this. You’re smart. You’re capable. You help herd around a bunch of malcontent mutant teenagers and take down various groups of mutant criminals or groups planning to enact crimes against mutants –and the former is arguably more dangerous than either of the latter. You can make pancakes without burning down the kitchen –and have an edible product by the end of it (though the overall “pancake” appearance is largely questionable)!

You can fucking fly, for fuck’s sake. Know how many people can do that? A significantly small number, and they need planes or fancy equipment to do it, the chumps.

(Alright, that last point may be a little moot due to your mutation set, but still.)

Point stands: you are a confident, competent, capable adult, who is capable of accomplishing many different things with varying but usually large amounts of success.

So, why is it you can’t plan your own wedding?

You’re staring down at one of the tables in the library; you’d opted to set up in there for the sake of space, so you could spread everything out and get a good look at all of it, but now you’re thinking that was a mistake because the sheer amount of everything only makes it that much clearer that you don’t know what you’re doing.

Venues. Catering options. Invitations. Cake. Flowers. Wedding dress. Bridesmaids dresses. More cake. Music. Groom’s suit and groomsmen’s suits. Cake again. Rings, vows, honeymoon reservations, wedding party details, finding a minister, finding a house, or maybe an apartment, legal name changes—

It’s all too much. Even something simple, like picking what flowers you like, is impossible because…

Because you never even thought someone would want to marry you. For nearly your entire life, you were told that you were a monster, whole-heartedly undesirable, and because of that you never even dreamed about what a wedding for you might look like. Not even once.

And, as a result, you’ve got absolutely nothing in mind for what you might even want.

And it’s making you furious.

Because you should’ve been able to dream about your wedding –or even if in some alternate timeline, you never wanted one, you shouldn’t have been so beaten down that you couldn’t even fathom someone finding you desirable, let alone worthy of committing to.

You’re shaking in your seat, hands trembling as rage courses through you. The longer you stare at everything in front of you, the more helpless you feel, and the angrier you get.

Fuck your parents. Fuck them, fuck them, fuck them, fuck them fuck them fuck themfuckthemfuckthem—

“Hey, Y/N.” Russell grabs your shoulder gently. “Are you okay?”

You realize that you’re basically angry-sobbing in your seat, glaring at all the wedding planning materials while you tremble all over.

Yukio materializes on your other side and hugs you gently. “It’s okay. Everything’s okay.”

“No, it isn’t!” Russell protests. “She’s crying over a picture of shoes!”

“A lot of women do that.”

“Should we get Piotr?” Ellie asks, ever the voice of reason.

You nod, largely beyond words at this point as you try to wipe off your face and reign yourself in a little now that there are people in the room with you.

Ellie and Yukio head off to track down your fiancé, but Russell stays behind, sitting next to you and gently holding your hand while you –unsuccessfully—try to calm down.

“It’s okay,” he says softly. “It’s gonna be okay. Colossus’ll be here soon.”

You nod, trying to soothe him more than you are yourself at this point, because –honestly—you’re just so angry. It’s like a wound you never realized you had is now ripping open, deeper and deeper, tearing through you until you can’t breathe and all you can do is bleed and rage—

How dare they.

Betrayal. Pure and simple. Betrayed by your parents, betrayed by the town you grew up in, betrayed by the members of the church you were dragged to every Sunday and Wednesday…

Week after week, a community of adults bore witness –to the anti-mutant sermons you were forced to listen to, to the times were the kids in the middle school and high school youth groups would bully you even though you were barely out of first grade yet, to the growing fear with which you reacted to your parents, to the times where you were dragged back to your home by men toting rifles after you’d tried to run away, to the bruises that covered your arms from your father’s abuse, to the bags under your eyes from constantly being afraid and upset, to how you retreated further and further inside yourself as your parents bore down harder and harder on you…

And they did nothing. No one, not once, ever looked at you and decided that you deserved protecting because you were just a kid and couldn’t control your genetic make-up.

How fucking dare they.

You didn’t deserve to hate yourself, you didn’t deserve to feel worthless, you didn’t deserve to believe that you were so unlovable that you’re completely lost at sea in the face of planning your own fucking wedding—

And then Piotr’s kneeling next to you and drawing you into his arms. He’s in his uniform and armored up –he must’ve been overseeing training sessions, and now you feel bad for having inadvertently interrupted him.

“Tische, myshka.” He gently lifts you into his arms, then says something to Ellie before carrying you out of the library.

You wind your arms around his neck and bury your face in the shoulder piece of his uniform. You’re still shaking, borderline hyperventilating as you try to cope with the sheer level of wrath coursing through you. How dare they, how fucking dare they; I was a kid!

And then you’re in the bedroom you share with Piotr.

You’re vaguely aware that the teens have followed you and that they’re setting the wedding stuff on the desks, and then they’re leaving and closing the door behind them—

And then it’s just you and Piotr.

“What’s wrong, myshka?” Piotr murmurs. He armors down before sitting on the bed, carefully settling you in his lap so he can nestle you in his arms. “What has you upset?”

What you want to say is that you’re upset and enraged over the mistreatment you suffered as a child, and that it still extends so far into your life that you’re finding yourself unable to help plan your own wedding because you literally have zero ideas on what you want due to being abused for so long.

What comes out, however…

“I hate them,” you seethe as you sit back. “I hate them so fucking much. I was just a kid, I didn’t fucking deserve to be their punching bag—”

Fortunately, Piotr knows you well enough –and the tragic story of your upbringing—that he can decipher from your rambling that you’re upset about your family. He frowns, sad and concerned, and tucks a stray lock of hair behind your ear. “I am so sorry, moya dusha.”

“I didn’t deserve it,” you insist, almost frantically, as tears sting your eyes. “I didn’t deserve it, I didn’t deserve it, I didn’t fucking deserve it—”

“Konecho net. Never.” He draws you back into his arms, kissing the top of your head and rubbing your back and generally doing whatever he can to soothe you. “You never deserved how they treated you. You never could, and you never will.”

You sob brokenly against your fiancé’s chest. “I can’t even plan my own wedding, Piotr! I don’t even know what I want it to look like!”

And then it all comes pouring out –the panic you’d felt in the library, how it’d morphed into fury as you realized what was causing your utter lack of ideas for your upcoming wedding, how the teens had found you in there, borderline hyperventilating as you’d stared at all the wedding stuff.

Piotr, for his part, just holds you and kisses the top of your head over and over again. “I am so sorry, moya lyubov’. Had I known you would have felt this kind of distress, I would have not left you to work on our wedding details alone.”

“But aren’t most brides supposed to plan the wedding?” you ask as you sniff inelegantly.

“I do not think ‘supposed to’ is right word. I think most brides wind up planning weddings because they have more aesthetic preferences,” Piotr explains. “However, I think it might be better if we work together for most of it. If only so you do not have to deal with your pain alone.”

“But you’ve got job stuff to do,” you whine. “And X-Men stuff, and teacher stuff, and this is gonna take a lot of time—”

“And you are my fiancée and love of my life and future wife and we will find way to make this work,” he insists as he presses his lips against your forehead. “Your well-being is more important than easy schedule.”

You let out a shaky breath. “I just don’t want you to wind up hating me by all the end of this.”

Piotr just holds you tighter and kisses your temple. “Impossible.”

It’s not going to be easy. Even the thought of trying to work on wedding stuff makes your stomach churn with anxiety and unreleased rage.

Nothing in life comes easy, though. And with Piotr by your side –and your friends and newfound family—you know you’ll get through it just fine.

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

random Centaur Adora au slice of life ideas where everything’s the same she’s just half horse  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Adora’s usually pretty good at not getting spooked but when she’s relaxed sometimes Catra’s tail twitches and Adora thinks SNAKE!!! and all four hooves leave the floor

This always made Catra freak out too and the result was always mayhem

Centaur Adora is literally as strong as a horse

Her chowing down on everything she can each in ep 2 is now partly bc she needs a heck ton more calories

At first Glimmer assumes Adora is a brand new kind of genetically engineered soldier the Horde is developing and won’t listen to Adora’s claims to be the only centaur she’s ever seen. This is the new main driver for bringing her back to Bright Moon even though this time it’s a lot harder, Glimmer is determined to warn the Rebellion and give them a sample to study/find the weaknesses of before the… cavalry… arrives

The fact that Adora didn’t just break free and run off is even more blatant since she could kill either of them with one kick to the head. Her not tramping them during the fight for the sword is also pretty obviously a deliberate thing and the first clue she’s not actually an evil jerk

Bow and Glimmer totally forget to hobble Adora btw. She wakes up and looks down at her bound hands and back at her four other unbound limbs just like ‘seriously?’

Thanks to her best friend never wearing shoes Adora’s really careful with where she steps, but not wanting to crush/get crushed is still the excuse they both use for Catra to spend a lot of time perched on Adora’s back

Before meeting Glimmer and Bow the only one allowed to get rides on Adora was Catra (and Rogelio that one time because no one else was strong enough to carry him)

Centaur Adora has the ‘nervous sleeping without friends’ thing and never gets used to sleeping alone so Glimmer just starts teleporting over right before bed

Glimmer draping herself dramatically across Adora’s withers

Bow LOVES braiding Adora’s tail and sometimes does that instead of stress cleaning (only with permission of course)

There are no other Centaurs on Etheria which really confuses Adora but the She-Ra mural is a centaur so she figures maybe there used to be more before all the fighting 

As She-Ra, Adora’s horse half turns white and grows to the size of huuuuge draft horse

Despite being half horse Adora never knew about horses in general and even after seeing one insists horses and Centaurs are completely different

The main difference is horses are just BETTER

Glimmer: How can you know you’re a Centaur and still NOT know what horses are?????

Centaur Adora: Nobody told me I was half horse! They just pointed at me and said ‘centaur’ and i heard the word and thought ‘oh well guess that’s me’

it turns out not knowing about horses is not actually a Horde thing

Catra, in thaymore: Uh, yeah I know what a horse is. who doesn’t?

Centaur Adora: I DIDN’T!!!!!

Catra: How could you NOT know what a horse is!? You’re entire butt’s a horse!

Centaur Adora: AAAAAAAHHH

aaand this puts a new spin Catra’s favorite catchphrase, much to Glimmer’s fury

Glimmer: She’s pronouncing it with an ‘A’, Bow. I can feel it

Bow: We have literally no way of proving-

Catra, @ centaur adora: Hay Adora~ >:3c

Glimmer, being restrained by Bow: SPELL IT ‘HAY’ AGAIN AND SEE HOW LONG YOU LIVE I DARE YOU!!!

Centaur Adora: what’s ‘hay’??

Adora freaks out a little when meeting Mermista since she considers them in same boat

After that Mermista starts going mermaid whenever there’s enough water around for it to be practical. She says it makes her water combat better but everyone knows she does it mainly just because of how Adora lights up every time she has a ‘hybrid buddy’

Visiting Plumeria awakened some old instincts and Adora almost poisoned herself trying to eat all the yummy flowers until Perfuma specifically made her an edible bouquet

Swift Wind thinks of Adora as his mom. His really really weird mom via like magic or whatever

Wanting the comfort of a herd was part of why Adora snuck out of Glimmer’s room in ep 2 when she saw ‘Horsy’ out the window

Obviously Adora can’t get rides on Swift Wind so instead he flies overhead with Glimmer and Bow and guides her as she runs. cue her complaining why the sword couldn’t have just given HER some wings too

Growing up in the high tech lift-based Fright Zone Adora never encountered staircases until joining the Rebellion. They are the bane of her existence. The only good thing Hordak ever did was build his evil lair without them

Centaur Adora laying down awkwardly to fit at the Rebellion’s council table

Later Glimmer makes sure her chair gets swapped for a pad so this isn’t so uncomfortable

Not only does Castaspella promise to make Adora a sweater she also takes measurements on her horse half to knit a matching blanket so she’ll be properly cozy

Adora pulls Glimmer and Bow onto her back in ep 2 while running from the monster and the rides never stop from there

When getting rides Bow’s very worried about making sure Adora’s not uncomfortable but he’s so nervous about it that he doesn’t hold on good enough and tends to slide off if Adora isn’t super careful

Glimmer on the other hand absolutely zero fear only glee when Adora gallops

She’ll also take any excuse wrap her arms around Adora so that also helps her never fall off <3

The two give Bow and Angella grey hairs by doing jumps and obstacle course races and other stunts whenever they get bored

Adora’s back, both human and equine, is speckled with tiny scars from Catra’s claws accidentally digging into her over the years bc Catra always refused to ‘sit’ on Adora, preferring to be always ready to jump off, paranoid Adora would stumble someday and fall and squash her, which you know, fair enough

Her new bed in Bright Moon is a problem for soooo many more reasons than just being too soft

Also, Glimmer never figures out how over a thousand pounds of Centaur managed to sneak into her hanging bed that first night

When asked Adora just shrugs hand says she’s a good jumper. Also Glimmer sleeps like a log

centaur Adora showing up in places no one who’s half horse should be able to becomes the new biggest meme of the rebellion

Since it’s physically impossible for either Glimmer or Catra to dip Adora while dancing they end up making her dip them instead, much to Adora’s complete confusion

Meeting Entrapta involves a lot of eager questions about Centaur physiology which Adora has no answers to and then a running catalog of all the ways Adora shouldn’t work despite somehow managing to until Adora is on the edge of an existential crisis

Glimmer hauling a hacked centaur Adora through the robot infested castle, drooping under the weight of her human half and praying Adora’s four back legs aren’t about to give out bc if that happens then they are f*cked

Entrapta also really likes lifting up Adora’s hooves/legs without warning to examine them and only Adora’s discipline saves her form getting kicked in the face

By the time of the prom Adora is so used to this she doesn’t even notice when Entrapta does it anymore

Also at the prom Adora sets aside the whole enemies thing long enough to go make a new hybrid buddy with Scorpia, who Adora counts in the club because one set of Scopia’s limbs are completely non-human

Scorpia is delighted to vent about how everything is built for people with fingers and arms that aren’t covered in a spiked carapace and listens sympathetically to Adora’s rant on staircases, even draws her a doodle of stick figure She-Ra crushing some evil steps under hoof  

Frosta is a dutiful host and uses her ice powers to make a ramp up to her throne so Adora won’t have to deal with a staircase of ice

She tilts the same ramp to get rid of Adora and Glimmer when they start annoying her later

Scorpia’s first time meeting centaur Adora: “Horsie~!”

Adora, the centaur, looking around hopefully: “WHERE!?”

[sky-kiss]

Urzai, Unheavenly Creatures Verse: Ursa has a habit of hugging Ozai when he's upset. Unfortunately, he's mostly upset because he wants to bang Ursa but can't.

A/N: As per your request. Have some fluff and aggressively mediocre dad!Ozai.

_____

Moody

_____

“You’re broody this morning, dad.”

Ozai shot his...the child a dark glance over the rim of his coffee mug. Azula regarded him with a knowing air, her mouth pursed near the corners. About five seconds away from laughing. She chewed her breakfast with an exaggerated thoughtfulness. In the otherwise silent kitchen the crunch of her cereal was deafening. He set his glass aside, “Eat your food, Azula.”

“I am,” she grumbled, dragging her spoon along the bottom of the bowl. It made an unpleasant scraping noise, “Don’t like it.”

“Your mother was supposed to cook.”

Azula sighed, “She did. She made cereal.”

The devil shook his head, hiding a smile behind his hand. Azula’s glared down at her meal. The cereal was rapidly losing its structural integrity, bits of wheat floating in the milk. He reached over without thinking, smoothing her bangs away from her forehead. The hair fell back into place, obstinate, “She likes to think she’s providing for you, pet.”

“I wish she’d provide something that tastes better.”

The celestial lacked a fundamental understanding of human taste. She kept a perfectly balanced view towards nutrition with flavor rarely factoring in to the equation. Ozai took the bowl from his daughter, standing and crossing towards the kitchen, “Tell her you ate it. There’s bacon in the fridge.”

“That’s a lie, dad,” but she snickered as she said it, already bouncing up to traipse after him. The girl’s fondness continued to baffle him. He did not protest when she caught his free hand, little fingers tangling with his own. If she wished to tie herself to him, so be it.  In the end it would only make his task that much simpler. “Mom says she you shouldn’t lie.”

“If she doesn’t know to ask then we call it subterfuge or evasion,” he set the bowl on the counter. Azula was a small child, delicate. It took little to no thought to lift her, seating her in one of the high bar stools that lined the kitchen island.

Azula watched him with obvious pleasure, chin resting on her palm. Her amber eyes were too keen for her age, too old in an otherwise youthful face. The effect was jarring. Potential was the word that kept coming to mind. She was ripe with potential. Ozai plucked the materials from the refrigerator. They were running low on most everything edible. Only the angel’s strange little...experiments remained.

“You never made me breakfast before,” she shifted forward in her seat, curling her knees beneath her.

“And I won’t again.”

She hummed. It said she doubted. Azula tugged her own hair down and out of its tail, passing the hair tie to him, “Here. Mom usually keeps a few in the kitchen but…” they had a habit of migrating in their family. Ozai nodded his thanks, fumbling his hair up into a passable bun. She waited until his back was turned to speak again, “So why are you so cranky this morning?” He pursed his lips. Azula tired of her games if she was not provided the correct response. Today, she chose to tap a finger against her chin, considering, “Is it Zuzu?”

He continued whisking the eggs. The absurdity of performing this mundane task for a human child did not escape him. It was one detail he would be omitting from his report later, “No. Not your brother.”

More quietly, “Is it me?”

The devil sighed, “No, pet. Not you either.”

She grinned at him, ducking her chin.

The earthly manifestation of his displeasure breezed into the room in a rush of jasmine and honey. Ozai bit the inside of his cheek, fingers curling in to bite at his palm. He refused to look at her. Ursa’s voice filled the kitchen, clear and pleasing. She reached over to tousle Azula’s hair, cupping the girl’s cheek before bending to press a kiss to her forehead. The girl made a show of gagging, reaching up to scrub the mark away but both immortal’s felt the truth of her reaction. She was delighted. The girl radiated pleasure and an undercurrent of love, strong enough to feel stifling.

“Are you cooking, Ozai?” She leaned past him, brow gently furrowed. The devil ground his teeth, ignoring the press of her breasts against his back. Her innocence was equal parts intoxicating and maddening.

“The girl…”

“Azula,” she corrected, flicking his bicep, “You know her name.”

“Azula,” he hated having her near. He hated the way she left his skin itching, crawling. “Was still hungry. That...nutrient brick you insist on feeding them…”

“It’s healthy,” she mumbled, staring down at the eggs. The bacon left her wrinkling her nose. The scent bothered her.  He took a savage glee in that. “Well, whatever your reasons. Thank you.”

“Don’t thank him,” Azula grumbled, leaning on the counter, “He’s grumpy. He won’t listen.”

The celestial’s eyes widened, “Ozai. Is something bothering you?”

Human women were impossible. Celestials were impossible. He found himself longing for the Lower plane. The succubi never cared what he thought or how he felt. They never hounded him. “For the final time: I am well.”

Ursa worried her lip between her teeth, glancing up at his face. The idiot creature shook her head, stepping into him, her arms winding around his back. He let out a sharp hiss of breath, throwing a dark look heavenward.

This. This was the cause of his latent frustration. The celestial insisted, blindly, on touching him. On comforting him. Of pressing every inch of her perfectly formed body against him, ignorant of his reactions. She had read somewhere, early on in their tenure on the Prime Material plane, that physical contact was reassuring. Since then she had been unable to stop.

The Celestial tweaked her nose against his clavicle, breathing instinctively mimicking his own. He could feel the steady thrum of her heart. The scent of jasmine and honey was nearly overpowering with her this close, her head tucked under his chin. She squeezed him once. As if the little gesture would somehow inspire him to relax.

It did not. It would not.

Ozai grit his teeth, reaching up to take her shoulders. He held her out at arm’s length, “Enough.”

She was beautiful. Frustratingly, maddeningly, achingly beautiful; her eyes, a charming shade of amber, stared up at him, guileless and a little hurt. She nodded, turning on her heel. She was only trying to help. The devil took a steadying breath, scrubbing a hand over the back of his neck.

Every touch worsened his affliction. Every stray brush; every attempt to comfort him reminded him of the sheer wrongness of their situation and his inability to act on it, to find relief. He bit the inside of his cheek hard enough to draw blood. The sudden wash of pain brought some clarity with it.

How had June phrased it? The succubi's words echoed in his head, teasing and pitying. He had caught feelings for the idiot creature.

Unacceptable. Wrong.

Azula’s voice brought him back to reality. The girl tugged at his hand, “Is that it? Do you like mom?” He scowled at her. The girl didn’t shy back. She was...frustratingly immune to his temper nowadays. She stiffened before wrapping her arms around him, “That’s it, isn’t it?”

“I do not have…” the words were too sharp. He bit them back, starting again, “No. I do not have feelings for Ursa.”

“It’s okay if you do. She’s really nice. And pretty,” she rested her chin on his stomach, staring up at him with her huge eyes. Too knowing, too intelligent for her age, “I hope you like her. Zuzu does too.”

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Go sit, pet. I still have to feed you.”

But the girl still wears that irritating little grin, as if she’s privy to some great secret and his skin still itches everywhere Ursa touched him.

[paganchristian]

This is a Florida anise that we saw in huge groves in a swamp near a place where we once lived.  It is related to the edible spice, star anise, but Florida anise is poisonous.  The flowers are like beautiful starfish shapes, unusual and brilliant, but they smell rotten, which is said to attract flies and sometimes possibly rats.  We had one of these shrubs, and tried to grow it, many years ago, but it died, even though it was planted in a swampy location, like they like.  I was really wondering if it would attract rats or other wildlife, as long as it didn’t attract them to our house, I was curious.  I used to love watching this rat as a child, every time that we went to a certain pier, we would see it creep out from a hole in the sidewalk and run back and forth between the trash cans and the parking lot and here and there and carrying food and garbage back into its hole again.  Rats are supposed to be intelligent, disease carrying aside.  I knew someone who had a pet rat and it seemed very affectionate too.  Anyway, hm...

Facts and memories aside, the associations this is stirring for me, are a few things.  Related to rottenness and why does rottenness attract things or beings, and I think that it can attract people, but not only does it attract those who feed upon rotten things, it can attract those who relate to the pain, misery loves company.  Or those who are trapped in suffering, because it feels like home, it feels safe, relatable, it doesn’t feel too high, or too good for them, or like something they have to compete with or show off for.  They can let their guard down and just be themselves.  Maybe it even attracts those who feel insecure so they can finally feel better than someone else for a change, rather than just feeling inferior.  It can draw in those who know they need to heal their own pain, and are focused on the dark and troubled things in themselves.  It can call in the attention of those who want to help others too, those with very compassionate hearts, or just those who want to appear compassionate or who feel guilty and unsure of themselves and want to do good to try to convince themselves (and others) they are good.  Among maybe some other possibilities.  

And anyway, one association coming to my mind about all this is trying to make sense again of why religion seems to be so controlling, fearful, rigid, methodical, sometimes, false and arbitrary order, ..  and trying to face it again, as it refers to me.  So ok, it seems to me that I keep running into this problem with this particular branch of Christianity that I’m being pulled to, but I keep running into this issue where they say, ok, if you can’t believe, if you can’t have faith, if you can’t stop sinning as we define sin, if you don’t feel repentant, then focus every ounce of your thought, emotion, and time that you can on that.  You need to launch yourself into a full-blown battle, make your life a continual war against whatever it is that is separating you from God, from the right path, from virtue, from grace, from seeing the light.  Your very salvation and eternal peace or alternatively, your damnation, hinge upon this.  if you don’t feel able to do right, spend every spare bit of your emotion and passion and energy praying and trying to follow all these different kinds of practices to hopefully right your wrongs, attract God’s mercy, and the attention of the angels and saints and whatever, to reach your hardened heart and soften it, to purge your mind of worldly things and anchor it solely on the divine,...  And in this way only can you be considered putting up the good fight and if you don’t at least try to fight with all your might against all this sin and stagnation that have taken over you, then oh well, you don’t deserve God’s mercy then, you are falling rapidly away from what is good and right, and you are so wrong, it’s your fault, your whole life is fallen because you didn’t throw your whole self into this fight.  

But I find that not only can I not fight my supposed sins and my supposed wrong ways of living and I can’t fight my lack of grace, my lack of faith, my lack of belief, (I have some faith, some belief, some grace, but not enough in their eyes), ... So not only can I not keep on fighting these problems, but I can’t even keep on asking for help or forgiveness and grace for it either.  Because it takes up so much emotional energy for me and so much mental focus drains out of me when I try to do that, and what happens is that I have nothing left over to give to things that could really have a chance to help me.  Such as my health.  It really feels that maybe my health requires every spare ounce of my attention and it prevents me healing my emotional problems, character problems, spiritual problems, and misconnection with God, perhaps.  It feels that maybe it’s the cause of some of my spiritual problems and once that is resolved (if it even can be healed, which is really unsure at this point),...  But if I could heal it well  enough, then maybe those spiritual problems will really dissolve away to a large degree and become much easier to mend and recognize in a clearer, simpler way.  But it feels to me that this path keeps on saying, no, no, if you have to spend too much time thinking about your health then you are doing things in the wrong order.  Pray enough and God will help you find ways that you can heal your health and all your other spiritual and mental and emotional problems.  But I just don’t think so.  

I’m not sure why they seem to have that backwards.  Maybe it’s because many people really are totally mired in the physical and ego self and they need something firm and decisive, rigid and limiting, to say, no, no, don’t focus on the body, no, don’t focus on the ego, because that is the only way to stop the trainwreck of total identification with the body and ego and neglect of the spirit.  But I am starting to get the feeling that there would be some who would listen to what I have to say, some, .. and they would only be found few and far between or here and there, not as a kind of cohesive, reliable element in the religious group, but just as individuals who dare to go against the dominant current of their group.  

And I think that people are attracted to controlling, fearful, rigid things just like they can be attracted to problems and rottenness and suffering, ..  It stirs something in their subconscious, their hearts, .. maybe it stirs their fear, their love, their compassion, their controlling nature, their arrogance, their inferiority complex, memories of a painful childhood and the way they were brought up, the feeling of familiarity and belonging, even to something that is confusing and painful.  I recall this feeling of belonging to things that felt controlling (things that controlled me), and feeling of belonging with things that were very rigid, and fearful, backwards, painful and wrong.  I recall this feeling of being drawn to that, feeling at home in it, loving it, feeling natural and at ease in it.  I recall this feeling of that being “my people”, who I wanted to care for and help and save.  I recall all this happening almost below or maybe completely below consciousness, but only later on being able to articulate and pinpoint the feelings I was having and why this painful heavy suffocating, numb, destructive feeling felt good and attractive to me.  Or if not good, then natural, fine, appropriate, like I really belonged.  I felt this way with my husband, for many years and after the pain of it all from many things over the years with him and many horrible memories, I can look back and see if from a totally different light.  Knowing things about him and me and my family and his family, and life, and psychology, I can see it in a totally different framework and interpretation.  And it feels to me like trauma and abuse and ignorance and delusion and narrow-mindedness and fear and shame are so very vast and prolific and pervasive in our society and culture, that religion, with its oft-times fear and control and narrow, rigid ways makes perfect sense,...  It makes people feel they belong, in a similar way.  Not that religion always has to be that way, but often it does contain things like that, and that is something I’ve been running into in my own path way too much that keeps me from moving forward as I keep on running into brick walls again and again. 

I really still do want to find the good in this path, and have experienced so much good,...   Truly, good, vital essential good, that has saved my heart, my soul, my life, from self-destruction and confusion, delusion and danger, negativity, selfishness, despair and nihilism...  I’ve still found so much real good here in this path that I don’t think I can find anywhere else,... And good that I haven’t found anywhere in all my many years of deep, intensive searching of other religions, and psychology and new age, and other beliefs and practices,...  But I can’t deny what feels very wrong to me, dangerous, toxic, strangling, choking, no air to breathe, no love, no hope, no mercy, no voice, just madness. I can’t deny what feels that way to me, can’t paint it in prettier colors and whitewash it all.  I can’t sidestep and beat around the bush and walk on eggshells anymore.  I can’t make it sound better or less severe than it really seems to me.  I won’t throw out the baby with the bathwater.  But there is so much that seems it needs to be thrown out and I won’t hide from it anymore.  

I’m getting a lot of courage from some videos that I just serendipitously found lately too, so it helps me, opening my heart, my mind, my hope, my sense of courage and solidarity, having a voice, not being totally alone in my strange subset of pagan-Christian ideas.  Not that these videos are pagan-Christian, but still a kind of Christianity that would probably be largely if not totally open to my whole experience, and not simply being open to it but totally understanding and validating it deeply, expressing my reality in ways I didn’t even know how to do, showing why things are the way they are, in myself and in religion and church and various paths and denominations and in modern culture or just human nature and culture in general over time and history, in many cases, etc.  I feel this was a blessing from the taboo God.  So maybe I’ll finally have the courage and clarity to make a little more sense and not just fall in line with one or the other group because my own logic can’t think clearly enough to stand on its own.  Now I don’t have to stand on my own anymore, quite so much. 

[snowstorm-thirteen]

ALL OF DEM! *evil cackle* J/k unless you really want to xD How about every ten? So like 1, 10, 20, etc? :0

CHALLENGE ACCEPTED!

1. Spotify, SoundCloud, or Pandora?Out of these, the one I use most is SoundCloud, but lately I've been doing this thing where I go to a thrift shop and buy a pile of CDs for 50 cents each. I prefer this to any digital music service because it's a fantastic way of discovering great and really obscure music. Most of the bands I find broke up years ago and fell into obscurity, or never left obscurity at all, and it's a fantastic way to find some unique tunes.

2. is your room messy or clean?Currently, rather messy. I usually like to keep my place clean, but we've had this heat wave lately, so I've taken to flopping on the couch and doing nothing.

3. what color are your eyes?Weird. From a distance they look kind of... golden brown? But that’s deceptive.  They're like, hazel, but with blue rings around the outside of my iris. This picture of a multicoloured eye from Wikipedia is very similar to mine.

4. do you like your name? why?

I hate my full birth name, but I like what I go by now because it really suits me.

5. what is your relationship status?

It’s really complicated, lmao.

6. describe your personality in 3 words or lessAwesome, cool, radical. I kid, I kid. xD Chill, accepting, introverted.

7. what color hair do you have?Black

8. what kind of car do you drive? color?I don't have a car. I walk or I get the bus.

9. where do you shop?Pretty much everywhere, but mostly at Coles and IGA.

10. how would you describe your style?Gothic punk butch lesbian meme queen.

11. favorite social media accountYou mean like... one I use or one I follow? My fave to use is Tumblr, and my fave person to follow is Jacksfilms on YouTube.

12. what size bed do you have? King single.

13. any siblings?One brother.

14. if you can live anywhere in the world where would it be? why?Finland. I went there in 2006 and I totally adored it. Also it's winter there right now, and that's better than this heat wave, lmao. Would also accept a position in Antarctica.

15. favorite snapchat filter? I don't have Snapchat, but that dog one I see people use is kinda cute.

16. favorite makeup brand(s)I don't use makeup, like, at all these days lmao. Back when I did, I just got whatever was cheap.

17. how many times a week do you shower?Most days, like 4 - 6.

18. favorite tv show?Steven Universe, if that wasn't obvious, lmao. I'm also really into Land of the Lustrous right now.

19. shoe size?9 in womens, 6 in mens. Those are the Australian sizes, I have no idea what those are internationally.

20. how tall are you?163 cm, or 5'3

21. sandals or sneakers? Out of these, sneakers, but I usually wear boots.

22. do you go to the gym? Nah, I do most of my workout at home. It's cheaper and easier that way.

23. describe your dream dateMovie and dinner. A good classic.

24. how much money do you have in your wallet at the moment?About $10.

25. what color socks are you wearing? Black.

26. how many pillows do you sleep with?Two.

27. do you have a job? what do you do? I don't have a "job" but I'm a videographer and editor by trade. I also have training and qualifications in a range of other fields, because I got bored when I was younger and studied, like, everything lmao. Currently I'm in a volunteer position tutoring teenagers in filming and editing.

28. how many friends do you have? Quite a few. I'm scared to try and count exactly in case I miss anyone out.

29. whats the worst thing you have ever done? I thought I was straight for an embarresingly long time. That was pretty bad, lol. I also ran a cringey YouTube channel in 2006 - 2007.

30. whats your favorite candle scent?

31. 3 favorite boy namesChad, Chad, and Chad.

32. 3 favorite girl names*sings* Garnet, Amethyst and Pearl

33. favorite actor? I don't really have one lmao.

34. favorite actress? As above. I don't follow any actors or actresses specifically, I just like watching stuff lmao.

35. who is your celebrity crush?Not sure if she strictly counts as a celebrity, but I've had a massive crush on Simone Simons since I was in high school.

36. favorite movie? Inception, and Imaginaerum by Nightwish. I gotta rewatch Imaginaerum.

37. do you read a lot? whats your favorite book? I don't read as much as I used to, but my favourite book at the moment is The Erth Dragons by Chris D'Lacey.

38. money or brains? As much as I love money, I like having a brain.

39. do you have a nickname? what is it? Snow, which is also, well, kind of my name. xD I've also been called Yellow Diamond, so that's p cool.

40. how many times have you been to the hospital?Way too many to count. When I was a kid, I ate a lot of stuff that wasn’t edible, so I got rushed to the emergency room a lot. Even the times I swallowed actual poisons, I never got sick, much to the bewilderment of the doctors.

41. top 10 favorite songsIn no particular order: Ghost Love Score by Nightwish, Solitary Ground by Epica, Speed of Light by Van Canto, Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen, Hotel California by The Eagles, Lightning Rod by The Offspring, Sarcasm by Get Scared, Between Halloweens by The Matches, The Pizza Song by The Bouncing Souls, and Alcohol and Oxygen by Anadivine. This changes fairly often, but these are my top tracks as of right now.

42. do you take any medications daily? Yes.

43. what is your skin type? (oily, dry, etc)Soft and dry.

44. what is your biggest fear? Bit of a cliche, but my biggest fear is fear itself. I hate being scared, it makes me think irrationally. It used to be arachnophobia, but with the amount of spiders that make their way into my unit, I kind of got over that through exposure, lmao.

45. how many kids do you want? None, zero, zilch.

46. whats your go to hair style?I don't strictly style it, but it naturally falls into this look that I really like.

47. what type of house do you live in? (big, small, etc) I live in a unit, which is fairly spacious for a one bedroom place.

48. who is your role model? I don't really have one, I just do my own thing.

49. what was the last compliment you received?I honestly can't remember. Probably something to do with my videos.

50. what was the last text you sent?Texted my Dad telling him I was ready to be picked up from the supermarket.

51. how old were you when you found out santa wasn’t real?Something like... 8 or 9? But I managed to convince my parents I still believed until something ridiculous like age 12.

52. what is your dream car?Something that works, doesn't look like its been stolen, and is affordable. I have simple dreams.

53. opinion on smoking?I'm a smoker, and I say, never start smoking. But if you're gonna smoke, don't be a dick about it. Always smoke downwind of non-smokers and don't leave your butts all over the place.

54. do you go to college? Nah, I'm way too old, lmao. But I did when  I was younger.

55. what is your dream job? I'd love to edit TV ads and news reports, but I can't work full time, so I'm currently working towards selling paintings at local markets. I get to work my own hours and set my own rates, so if the first couple of markets go well, I'm gonna keep up with that.

56. would you rather live in rural areas or the suburbs? In the past, I would have answered rural, but I'm really enjoying near-city life right now.

57. do you take shampoo and conditioner bottles from hotels? Yes! I also take the soaps.

58. do you have freckles? Like, about, 6 in total lol.

59. do you smile for pictures?Only when prompted. I usually keep a neutral expression in photos.

60. how many pictures do you have on your phone? A few hundred.

61. have you ever peed in the woods? Yes. I occasionally go on week long hiking trips, and when you're surrounded by woods, there's nowhere else to pee lol.

62. do you still watch cartoons? Me? Watch cartoons? Scandalous. I only watch Serious Adult Shows™

63. do you prefer chicken nuggets from Wendy’s or McDonalds?Australian Wendy's doesn't do nuggets, but I like the ones from Hungry Jack's.

64. Favorite dipping sauce? Ranch

65. what do you wear to bed? Pretty much whatever.

66. have you ever won a spelling bee?We don't do spelling bees here, but my dyslexia was really bad when I was younger, so I would have failed like Hell if we did.

67. what are your hobbies?Video editing, painting, walking, collecting really cool rocks, watching TV, sometimes reading, playing bass, listening to music, gaming.

68. can you draw? Yes. I'm currently dabbling in animation, and I'm (very slowly) working on one for my YouTube channel.

I’m going for that “messy on purpose” look so it doesn’t take forever to complete. I also have this sloppy shit I did for Christmas last year.

69. do you play an instrument?I play a few, but my main one is bass. I'm also trying to learn the ukelele.

70. what was the last concert you saw? I think it was some random local band.

71. tea or coffee?Coffee all the way.

72. Starbucks or Dunkin Donuts?We have neither. I just get my coffee from wherever.

73. do you want to get married?Maybe? I'm not entirely sure.

74. what is your crush’s first and last initial?I have a few crushes, and I don't know all their initials lol.

75. are you going to change your last name when you get married? I like that thing where people combine their last names.

76. what color looks best on you? Black. Even my grandmother, who hates black, thinks it suits me best.

77. do you miss anyone right now? Kinda.

78. do you sleep with your door open or closed?Closed. It keeps the temperature nice.

79. do you believe in ghosts?Yes.

80. what is your biggest pet peeve? When people constantly send me messages like "?" or "you there" or "hi" over and over and over again while I'm trying to work on other things.

81. last person you calledA doctor's office to see what their walk-in rates were. Let's just say I won't be going to that practice. xD

82. favorite ice cream flavor? Good old chocolate.

83. regular oreos or golden oreos? I've never even heard of the golden ones.

84. chocolate or rainbow sprinkles? Chocolate all the way.

85. what shirt are you wearing? Plain black.

86. what is your phone background?It's Yellow Diamond.

87. are you outgoing or shy?I'm both. It depends on the situation.

88. do you like it when people play with your hair?Nah. Feels weird.

89. do you like your neighbors? Yes. The people in my block of units mostly keep to themselves, and are very friendly when I run into them.

90. do you wash your face? at night? in the morning?Both, when I can be bothered.

91. have you ever been high? There was one time I accidentally mixed up my mother's narcolepsy medicine with my atheritis medicine as a teenager. That was fucking wild. I could hear colours and smell sounds.

92. have you ever been drunk? A lot in the past, yes, but not now.

93. last thing you ate? Battered beef strips.

94. favorite lyrics right now"Oh, we are the working dead, and we lurch for minimum wage, but I'd really rather be... eating your brain!"

95. summer or winter? Winter, definitely.

96. day or night? Night.

97. dark, milk, or white chocolate? Dark chocolate.

98. favorite month? Idk, May?

99. what is your zodiac signTaurus

100. who was the last person you cried in front of? I literally don't remember lmao.

And that's it! I can't believe I did that whole thing, omfg.

[count-of-catterack]

Here’s a little thing I wrote a while back when I was focusing on conversations:

Hermione: 'Alright, Harry you sit here, Draco you sit in front of him...'

Pansy: 'Draco, please dear don't scowl like that, the kitchen table won't bite you.'

Hermione: 'Pansy and I are attending a meeting for our reading circle, we'll be out from one pm to four pm. I want you two, no, I demand an exemplary behaviour of you. '

Harry: 'Mione, we're adults you know ?'

Hermione: 'Adults who behave like teenagers. I know you have a past but moving on is a part of the experience of adulthood. You're twenty-four for Merlin's sake. »

Draco: 'Can't I come with you and Pansy ? I think talking about books for three hours will be more interesting than with somebody who has the vocabulary -and the mindset- of a six year-old.'

Harry: 'Sod off Malfoy. See ? He's going to be an insufferable prick like he always has been. You can't seriously think of leaving me alone with him. For three hours !'

Hermione: 'That's exactly what I'm planning on doing. And let me tell you this : if when we come back you are not sharing a heartfelt moment of friendship, I'm going to be mad, furious even, and you don't want to endure that.'

Pansy: 'Well, with that said, see you in three hours, gentlemen.'

Harry: 'Great'

Draco: 'Wonderful'

Harry: 'Fantastic'

Draco: 'Amazing'

Harry: 'Wow, I would never have thought to hear Draco Malfoy say the word amazing ! Not too plebeian for your taste ?'

Draco: 'No, not at all. I'll let you know that I am an man of language, as so I am encline to receive every word which happens to land in my ear. A flawless ear, that goes without saying.

Harry: 'Oh, I'm happy to know that you're still the same old narcissistic bloke.

Draco: 'Oh my, we know a big word Potter ! My my, what will you learn tomorrow ? Should I tell you a new word or will your poor brains explode ?

Harry: Very funny Malfoy.

Draco: Funny, funny, do you seriously have the vocabulary of a six year-old? Haven't you learnt anything proper in school ?

Harry: Except trying to be alive by the end of my seventh year?

Draco: And the other years. You're a magnet for trouble Potter.

Harry: I am adventurous, trouble is nothing for me, I live for trouble.

Draco: You truly are an idiotic Griffindor.

Harry: Thank you Malfoy, that means so much to me.

Draco: A Malfoy's compliment is valuable, but to come back to your ignorance-"

Harry: -I'll let you know that you attended the same school as me, and had the same lessons.

Draco: I had, yet I am more literate than you, how come ? Maybe my model childhood was the reason.

Harry: Your model childhood ?

Draco: I know what you're thinking, it wasn't as bad as you think. At least I was loved.

Harry: I was loved too !

Draco: That's not what I heard from Hermione.

Harry: You call her Hermione ? Why do you call her Hermione and still call me Potter ? No, more importantly, why did she tell you that ?

Draco: Potter, you are Potter and will never be anything more.

Harry: And I can assure you that you will stay Malfoy.

Draco: Oh, what a joyous day, we agree on something.

Harry: Right.

Draco: Can I carry on answering you or do you want to have the last word everytime ?

Harry: Merlin, you like to be a smartarse, don't you ?

Draco: Thank you for the compliment. And to answer you, I don't know why she decided I needed to know about your miserable childhood among muggles.

Harry: My childhood wasn't miserable, thank you.

Draco: I personnally think that's part of her machiavelous -you do know this word, right ? Oh, don't give me that look-, plan she probably named 'marvellous Draco and sad sad Harry's friendship adventure'.

Harry: She wouldn't come up with a name that stupid, she is clever not weirdly imaginative.

Draco: Weirdly imaginative ? I'm happy to know you value my imagination. Wait, you're not trying to be friendly are you ? I thought we had a silent agreement.

Harry: What silent agreement ?

Draco: The one you silently agreed on.

Harry: Care to develop?

Draco: You know, us never being friendly, never being nice to each other, only vaguely polite.

Harry: Hermione left us three hours to talk things out, I think we could be reasonable, admit that we have qualities and flaws and that we are human beings who can get on. Whatever our past may be. We're twenty-four, we should be able to leave everything behind us and start anew.

Harry: What ? Don't you have a scathing remark?

Draco: I was merely surprised by the fact that you can say more than two sentences at once. How grown-up you are !

Harry: You git. Whatever, I don't care, it will not be my fault we are reduced to a pulp when Hermione comes back.

Draco: And Pansy.

Harry: Yes, both of them would destroy us.

Draco: That great and terrifying couple.

Harry: Yeah. Wait, couple, you don't mean couple-couple ?

Draco: I knew you were oblivious Potter, but that reaches legendary levels.

Harry: Hermione didn't tell me anything !

Draco: She should have. The face you're doing right now is priceless.

Harry: How did you know ?

Draco: I knew before anyone because I observe people Potter, I study them and then I draw conclusions. That's called using your brain.

Harry: You're smart, I admit it.

Draco: And you're oblivious, I've learnt to admit it.

Harry: I am being nice to you, can't you say something nice too ?

Draco: I said something nice ! I was being a gentleman, of course it's a shame you're not a lady, for a wizard should always be agreable around witches, that's etiquette.

Harry: As if you were concerned by ladies.

Draco: At least I don't have a pitiful love life.

Harry: I had other priorities, I think it was a war, heard of it ?

Draco: Potter, the war was six years ago, your love life has been nonexistent since then, how do you explain that ?

Harry: How do you know that exactly ?

Draco: I told you, I observe people.

Harry: More like you stalk them.

Draco: Your face is constantly on the front cover of magazine, articles are written everyday about you, your love-life has never been a secret.

Harry: As if I was responsible for that.

Draco: I am interested in the well-being of my fellow human beings, that's all.

Harry: Well, I think my love-life is none of your business.

Draco: It is my business ! Making fun of you is not challenging anymore, you're making it too easy.

Harry: I'll make myself a cup of tea, do you want one?

Draco: Nice change of subject Potter, very subtle.

Harry: I know, so, tea?

Draco: Do you have Earl Grey?

Harry: I don't know...

Draco: It's your kitchen. You don't know what is in your kitchen?

Harry: Hermione is the one who bought tea, it's good and it adorns a kitchen she said and after that Luna heard of it and she gave me herbal tea...

Draco: I wouldn't trust Lovegood with something edible... Who knows what's in her herbal tea?

Harry: You're maybe right, but it's a gift, I can't throw it away.

Draco: So, are you answering my question or not?

Harry: Earl Grey, right? I don't know why but that doesn't surprise me...

Draco: Quit mumbling Potter, that's not pleasant to hear.

Harry: Here you go.

Draco: Thank you. I have to add that I like my tea with a mug and hot water, but what should I except from you, raised by muggles...

Harry: Are you physically unable to wait and shut up at the same time, or do I have to suffer through your unending complains?

Draco: It was a remark, nothing else, don't be so uptight. Oh, can I have this mug?

Harry: This one? ...yes.

Draco: Why did you hesitate?

Harry: I hesitated? Really? I would not call it hesitation.

Draco: What would you call it then?

Harry: Caution.

Draco: What's wrong with this mug?

Harry: Nothing's wrong with it, it's a strong, high-capacity, sweetly decorated mug.

Draco: It's Weasley's, isn't it?

Harry: Yes, that's the one he takes when he comes over.

Draco: And you think it would displease me?

Harry: It will displease you.

Draco: No, it won't, I'm a hundred percent ok with it. I'll take it.

Harry: Even knowing that it's Ron's?

Draco: Even knowing that it's Weasley's.

Harry: Are you fine Malfoy?

Draco: There's nothing wrong with trying to be cordial, I'm friend with Hermione, and she's friend with you and this adorable ginger person.

Harry: Give me this mug back.

Draco: Why?

Harry: You're going to jinx it.

Draco: How dare you? I would never!-do not give me that look.- Can't I experiment a little?

Harry: You are not to experiment on my best friend.

Draco: Fine, but he'll keep his ginger hair, and his freckles, and his lanky body.

Harry: I'm not his friend because of his looks.

Draco: And that's why you don't have any decent friends.

Harry: You see value in people only if they are attractive?

Draco: It helps.

Harry: I really don't understand you Malfoy.

Draco: You weren't reared in a wizard family, a wealthy wizard family. The values you are told are not the same as the ones you heard from your muggles relatives.

Harry: Not that they raised me that much.

Draco: What do you mean by that?

Harry: I thought Hermione told you.

Draco: She didn't explain it in depth.

Harry: That means she doesn't think you need to know about it in depth.

Draco: More like she wants you to talk to me about it.

Harry: Why would I?

Draco: I could be your therapist, oh, I'd be great at that, I'd love the office for sure, and sitting all day, pretending to listen to you and dropping a few comments about your hero-complex-because really, that's all it's all about-... What are you doing?

Harry: Putting a water-filled kettle on the stove, you did say you like your tea with hot water?

Draco: Why do you do it the muggle way?

Harry: I don't like feeling like I depend on my wand.

Draco: Your wand is an extension of your being, it's only logical you would depend on it.

Harry: To the point of not even using my own hands?

Draco: You might have a point here. I heard the story of a wizard who did everything with his wand, not moving an inch-I think it was an article in a magazine...

Harry: An intellectual reading huh?

Draco: You have to stoop to mundane people's level if you want to have a full understanding of the human behaviour.

Harry: You know what may be your problem Malfoy? You over-analyse everything.

Draco: My marvelous mind is my greatest flaw, you are right Potter. What is this?

Harry: A mug, it has an handle and can contain a large range of things, tea for example.

Draco: This mug is horrendous.

Harry: Why? I think it's cute.

Draco: What is cute in a Pygmy Puff?

Harry: They're fluffy and look at their little eyes, don't you find them adorable?

Draco: Knowing they are the result of Weasleys' doing, no.

Harry: Well, Ginny thought it was a good idea when I moved in.

Draco: She's the only who offered you that?

Harry: That's what I just said and please refrain from insulting her.

Draco: She has poor taste, in gifts and in men.

Harry: Neville is a kind man, she is happy with him.

Draco:We're talking about Longbottom, he would apologise to dementors for causing them trouble.

Harry: Have you seen him since the end of the Eighth year?

Draco: No, and I'm glad for that.

Harry: He changed a lot, he's more mature and responsible. I think it started when he became teacher at Hogwart.

Draco: I still think he's too young.

Harry:He's qualified for it, he went to study Herbology in South America after all.

Draco:I don't deny it, I simply could never see him than as the clumsy and shy child who loses everything.

Harry: Who lost a certain amount of things because of a bratty Slytherin.

Draco: He was fun to mess with. See? That's the entertainment value I'm looking for in you Potter, but you constantly let me down, can't your life be a little more spicy?

Harry: I like my dull life if it enables me to stay alive and not defeat dark wizards.

Draco: Who talked about battling? The only battle you should be waging should be in your bed-or any other place if you feel like it, I don't judge, if you knew the stories I've heard from Blaise-

Harry: I don't need to hear that thank you.

Draco: No, I genuinely think it'd do you real good to talk things through, it'd release you.

Harry: I'm not some animal in a cage, I don't need to be set free.

Draco: Have you ever heard of your inner animal?

Harry: No, we're definitely not talking about that.

Draco: Alright, but I continue to say that it's not healthy.

Harry: What's not healthy is your obsession.

Draco: Is caring about other people's well being obsession?

Harry: When it's done by Draco Malfoy, yes, and it's unsettling.

Draco: You've been obsessed over me, now I am obsessed over you, I'm being fair.

Harry: When have I been obsessed over you?

Draco: Eighth year, you kept on asking Hermione if I was seeing anyone.

Harry: Sheer curiosity, and I didn't want you to have somebody when I was alone.

Draco: You should have asked if you needed compagny.

Harry: No! The-the tea is ready.

Draco: Yes, evade the subject with tea-making.

Harry: Sugar? Milk?

Draco: Nothing, I knew you'd be a sugary person.

Harry:I prefer being a sugary person than a bitter person.

Draco: I wasn't sugarcoated when I was young.

Harry: Oh, so that's why you're so nasty? Because you didn't have sugar in your life?

Draco: I'm sarcastic, there's a difference, and you would be if you had been brought up a Malfoy.

Harry: Will you one day stop hiding behind the whole Malfoy façade? It can't be a reason for everything in your life.

Draco: It's the number one reason I'm who I am.

Harry: Being a Malfoy is not solely who you are, I am not defined by my last name.

Draco: You're Potter, your last name contains everything you are: mighty, wealthy, selfless...

Harry: You think that's the case, but people are so much more than that, I haven't always been Potter, the all-mighty savious or the wizarding world, I was an insecure child living in an uncaring house, that defines who I am, what I've accomplished defines it too.

Draco: Good for you.

Harry: Will you stop being so stubborn? I'm trying to have a conversation with you, and it's hard to do when the person you're talking to is not frank.

Draco: I never am, and I certainly won't be with you.

Harry: Fine.

Draco: Wonderful.

Harry: ...

Draco: So, how come you don't have anybody, there's a lot of witches who would kill to spend one night with you.

Harry: Oh, so we're back to this subject? Very subtle.

Draco: I'm sure I could find you somebody, would a woman with some kinks be alright, because you see I have this friend who's looking for-

Harry: No, nothing, I don't need anything thank you, everything is taken care of so quit your matchmaking business.

Draco: She doesn't mind people being fierce you know.

Harry: I already said that we won't have this conversation.

Draco: Why? Because you find it embarrassing? I heard that talking about women is what male friends do, I'm only trying to be friendly.

Harry: Then don't even try!

Draco: I won't be thrown to the ground and stomped on by two angry young ladies!

Harry: Why, because they could damage your face?

Draco: Exactly.

Harry: How vain can you be?

Draco: I once had an elve carve my bust in marble and put in on the mantel of the chimney.

Harry: That's pretty vain.

Draco: And I enchanted it to only compliment me.

Harry: You're a lost cause.

Draco: I was young, childish and egoistic.

Harry: And now you're old, mature and selfless?

Draco: Nobody has ever described me this accurately, you understand me Potter, I'm moved.

Harry: Yeah, so about that, how come you talked about me with Hermione? You two were friends in Eighth year?

Draco: We were Head boy and Head girl, so yes we talked, and since there wasn't much to talk about, we talked about the Wonder boy.

Harry: Why did she agree on that?

Draco: She told me she would reveal all of your shameful secrets to me and I had to tell her all about Pansy.

Harry: All that for Parkinson? What, they didn't even started to date until recently-very recently according to me, an hour ago!-

Draco: Oh, they weren't technically dating, I don't think they saw each other much, or at least talked much.

Harry: Hermione is not like that!

Draco: Like what? You mean that she has to truly love somebody to shag them, how innocent can you be.

Harry: No, I'm only surprised me or Ron never realised it.

Draco: I don't know how she put up with you both for so long...

Harry: Frankly, I don't understand it either. Tell me, I don't know Parkinson that much, but I thought she was more of a materialistic woman.

Draco: She has a quirky mind, you wouldn't see that if you didn't know her, and she let that side of her go after the war, like most of the slytherins.

Harry: But, um, aren't same-sex relationships taboo in the wizarding world?

Draco: They are, though most of the time people don't care about it, as long as they're invisible, everything is fine for the ordinary people.

Harry: So, instead of talking about it, the wizarding world shuts its eyes on the people who love differently from the mass.

Draco: That's basically it.

Harry: It's unfair.

Draco: True, but the Ministry -and the majority of the society- won't even hear of it, so yes, Pansy and Hermione had better be hiding whatever was going on between them.

Harry: I don't think it could have been badly seen by Mcgonagall

Draco: You don't know it, you think people are open-minded and they throw you out of your house without any warning.

Harry: Your mother kicked you out of your house.

Draco: She did, and I still resent her for that. And before you ask, yes, it was for that reason.

Harry: How could she do that to her only child?

Draco: I quote: 'Imagine people know about it, it'd be a disgrace and we've already lost our status.'

Harry: I-I don't know what to say.

Draco: But I think I understand her, a little, after all I knew she would react that way, I only didn't expect her to ban me from her life.

Harry: Does she have the right to stay in the manor, is it hers?

Draco: Technically she can't, however I won't ask her to leave it, she wouldn't have anywhere to go, and she is a very social being, she needs to see people.

Harry: You're oddly kind to her.

Draco: She's still my mother after all, even if she doesn't acknowledge me and treats me like her bastard son, I can't tell myself that I don't know her, that I hate her. She was brought up to think that way, I was too, unfortunately I was different.

Harry: It's not unfortunate, it's who you are, you should not feel bad about that.

Draco: Oh, I don't. I've never felt more liberated than after that.

Harry: So, where are you staying now?

Draco: Blaise's, he's been kind enough to lend me his guest room, I'm considering finding another flat, you see he wants Tracey to move in with him and I'm in the way.

Harry: Tracey Davis? I didn't know they were together.

Draco: And I had no idea you knew her name. Had your eyes on her?

Harry: No, she was just in your circle of friends, so I knew about her, that's all.

Draco: Oh, so, that's because you were stalking me.

Harry: I already told you that I wasn't. Anyway, I actually knew you were gay, I'm not as oblivious as you think I am, I can read a situation.

Draco: Harry Potter has discovered subtext, nice.

Harry: I'm trying to be sympathetic here.

Draco: Right, please do carry on.

Harry: But I didn't know it was not accepted by wizards and witches.

Draco: You didn't grow up in a wizarding family, your only connexion to the wizarding world was Hogwarts, and that's not something adults talk about, especially not with children.

Harry: I'll talk to Neville about it, maybe he could do something.

Draco: He's a teacher, and not even head of a house, he has next to no power, or voice. And being an active member of the fight in the war won't help him much this time.

Harry: Why?

Draco: People don't want to talk about it, don't want to see it. Stupid bravery won't change it.

Harry: Since the war people changed, minds are more open now.

Draco: That's what you think, I can assure you that it's not the case. Anyway, that's nice of you, nice but naive.

Harry: I'll still have a word with Neville, whether you like it or not.

Draco: As stubborn as ever. Well, I'm sure Pansy and Hermione will kill me the next time they see me, but I have to go. Thanks for the tea.

Harry: Wait a second, I want to give you something.

Draco: What is it?

Harry: I have tickets for a quidditch match : Tutshill Tornados vs Holyhead Harpies. I thought you would maybe want to see it.

Draco: Did you ask Weasley, you know, ginger, tall and your best friend?

Harry: He is already invited, Ginny sent him tickets too, but I have a spare one. Listen, you like Quidditch, I like Quidditch, we can try to be cordial and have a nice day.

Draco: That doesn't seem too complicated. I'll consult my schedule and see if I can.

Harry: Oh, yes, of course, just take it, so you know the date, the hour and all that...

Draco: Thank you Potter. Talking with you was oddly pleasant, I didn't think you had this in you. Well then, see you. I'll send you an owl to let you know.

[notestonadia]

A Note on Intelligence

Nadia, will you be smart?

As you grow and develop, as your inclinations and interests begin to shine through the clouds of toddlerhood tantrums and cast light and shadows over your everyday actions, this seems like a very natural question to ask. Every parent wants their child to end up being “smart,” right? Even Forrest Gump had a vested interest:

But before we run with Forrest’s question, we should ask—is it even the right question?

When I was a teacher, I presented the idea of multiple-intelligences to my students. The concept behind this is that intelligence is not binary. You’re not either “smart” or “dumb” in an absolute sense. Instead, intelligence exists on a wavelength, with peaks and valleys and no average altitude that defines what you’re capable of.

It’s a nice idea. It’s an elevated concept (HAHA). But teaching it and believing it are two different summits to climb.

And maybe I’m still at base camp, but I really think I’m ready to start the trek. I think we all may need to start gazing upward to a place where we can meet at the top.

With this theory of multiple intelligences, there are still head starts. Some people are still going to be inclined (this metaphor is contrived, I know, but I swear I didn’t try to do this one) towards some areas over others. But the beauty of the multiple intelligences theory is that A) if you have weaknesses in one area, you can make it up with strengths in others, and B) You can always improve in every area.

So how’s it looking so far, Nadia? 

Verbal-Linguistic Intelligence (Word-Smart)

So, Nadia, you don’t really like books. Like, you tolerate them. We’ve made reading books a part of your bedtime routine, so you accept it as a part of life. But if you have free time and a choice about what you want to do, picking up a book and reading it is never one of your choices.

It makes me, as a parent, and as a former English teacher, feel a little self-conscious. After all, I’ve seen so many other parents post pictures of their kids mangling books with the caption, “OMG, SHE LOVES BOOKS SO MUCH!” 

Which can lead to only two conclusions:

1. That kid really likes books. 2. That parent is lying.

Really, the truth of the above is inconsequential. It’s more about the awareness of the parent (Self-Smart reference #1) than it is about the ability of the child.

I want you to love to read...I really do. But it’s not really something that can be forced. Also, Verbal-Linguistic Intelligence is about WAY more than just reading. It’s about vocabulary, memorization, and making up stories. And you can make up a hell of a story with “poop” at every twist and turn. 

Logical-Mathematical Intelligence (Number-Smart)

It’s interesting that this intelligence is associated with “numbers.” It makes you think that an accountant, for example, represents the exemplar of this intelligence.

But really, it’s more than that. Sure, you can count to 30, or maybe even 40 (you skip 15 a lot, for some reason). But this isn’t about knowing your numbers--it’s more about using logic to know how one step leads to another step--and then being able to explain the relation between those steps. 

A kid that can count isn’t “number smart”--that’s just memorization. (Self-Smart reference #2). But a kid that understands what those numbers mean and can apply them to everyday situations IS. At that point, you’re using logic--not memorization. 

You seem to be pretty astute at this, Nadia. You work through little puzzles in your head all the time in order to arrive at the conclusion that it was Daddy’s fault. And you’re usually right.

Spatial Intelligence (Picture-Smart)

I have some high hopes for you here, despite the fact that this may be one of my lowest intelligences.

Of course, there are two sides to the genetic coin--and when you flip it, sometimes you get heads or tails...The coin doesn’t suspend upright on its edge.

I’ll often walk into a room, and your mother will just be staring at nothing. When I ask her what she’s doing, she’ll say: “Visualizing.”

So, this intelligence isn’t necessarily just about being able to draw, paint, sculpt, or whatever--it’s more about being able to picture something that isn’t already there. (Self-Smart reference #3)

When your mom asks me to look at the blank wall that she’s staring at, she’ll say, “What do you see?”

And I’ll say, “I see a fucking wall.”

But to her, she sees frames, and wasted spaces, and opportunities. 

I think your ability as a builder might mean that you have some natural talent here. You love using your blocks to build structures that I wouldn’t have ever dreamed of, constructing patterns that just seem to make sense. 

Your artwork kind of sucks, to be super honest. But your visualization seems to suggest that you’ve hopefully got some of your mother’s abilities.

Bodily-Kinesthetic Intelligence (Sports-Smart)

I remember when you were barely two, we took you to a park with a soccer ball. We couldn’t believe when you just took off running, dribbling the soccer ball with one foot in stride. You didn’t stumble, and you displayed this natural, untaught ability to keep the ball near your foot as you moved exceptionally fast.

So, logically, we signed you up for soccer at your school.

You hated soccer.

Well, that’s not fair. I don’t think you hated soccer. You loved that freedom of just running and dribbling a ball with no intended goal. What you hated was the rules and discipline that came with soccer.

At your school, soccer isn’t about dribbling, or kicking, or really any ball-related skill. It’s about freezing or sitting on your ball when the coach blows a whistle. Sports, at an early age, are about discipline, rather than the body motions that go along with playing that sport.

I think that also relates to the other sports we’ve signed you up for--dance, gymnastics, and even yoga.

I’m not saying that discipline is a bad thing. I’m just saying this is a mix of intelligences. In order to show that you are good at a sport at a young age, you also have to display some ability to follow directions, which is an entirely different type of intelligence. (Self-Smart reference #4)

So the fact that you don’t want to play soccer doesn’t mean that you won’t be good at soccer. We’ll let you decide.

Musical Intelligence (Music-Smart)

You really don’t have a lot to work with, here. Not genetically.

Not long ago, you were staging a fake birthday party for...I think, a toilet...And you sang “Happy Birthday” to that toilet.

After hearing you sing, I remember remarking, “Awww, Nadia, you sing just like your mother!” This is exactly the kind of snarky-ass, passive aggressive “compliment” that adults give to their unknowing kids. Don’t knock it. It really is one of our only guilty, mostly harmless, pleasures.

And me...well, by now, when you’re reading this, hopefully you’ve gotten to enjoy a number of my “birthday songs” that I’ve written and performed for you.

But you should know a few things:

Writing and performing these songs is HARD for me. It is not something that comes natural for me.

Also, I have no problem admitting that these songs are objectively bad. The key is off, the musical pacing is horrendous, and the final result of putting the voice/instruments together has often been laughably terrible.

But this goes back to an earlier point I tried to make: You CAN improve at something if you really have the desire to--even if it’s something you’re not naturally talented at. In the nature-nurture debate, I’ve always tended to side a little more strongly on the nature side--you’re born, genetically, with a certain set of skills, and those may provide the playdough that shapes the person you ultimately become. But that in no way means you can’t get some dough from another can and see what you can make of it. 

Listen--every teenager thinks they’re “music-smart.” We adorn our Myspace accounts (just a super obscure reference for you to look up) with statements like “MUSIC IS LYFE”, as if that means that we could be musicians in a future life.

But liking music and being “good” at it are two different things. Being honest with yourself can lead to how much you decide to pursue something like music (Self-Smart reference #5)

Naturalist Intelligence (Nature-Smart)

This is a fun juxtaposition to the previous section. With music, I made the argument that you can be “bad” at something, but improve at it if you have the interest.

Just know that if you are naturally bad at something, and you also don’t have the interest, it’s okay to just suck at that thing.

That’s where I’m at with this intelligence.

Gardening? Nah. Cooking? That’s what Grubhub was invented for. (Self-Smart reference #6)

But just in case you’re interested in this kind of intelligence, know that your mother is working her ass off to be a guiding example. It’s not something she’s exactly naturally inclined to. I once told your mother that our house is where plants go to die.

And as for something like cooking. You recently told your mother, “Mom, you shouldn’t cook anymore, because you burnt yourself. You should let dad cook.”

But to your mother’s credit, she has continued cooking, and she’s getting a lot better at it, despite some potential genetic deficiencies. I once told her that she had effectively ruined fish for me. But since then, she has made some fish dishes that were absolutely edible. 

Hope abounds. And for you--who knows. Maybe even if you don’t feel like working too hard at this, maybe genetics skips a generation and you’ll get your Grampy’s natural ability. You already seem in tune with nature--whether it’s your love for flowers, caterpillars, or animals. Do what you will, my little nature girl.

Interpersonal Intelligence (People-Smart)

Nadia, you’re awkward af. It’s fine, though. You’re only three. These are skills that you can develop over time.

To be real, developing this intelligence makes me a little nervous.

In its best form, high levels of Interpersonal Intelligence leads to people who are great communicators--leaders who use their affability to create positive change.

In its worst form, high levels of Interpersonal Intelligence leads to being a bully: People who can read others and exploit them. People who use charm and affability for nefarious causes.

You have some interesting examples to deal with: Your mom, who is an introverted extrovert: Someone who isn’t naturally gifted at gab, but who is interested in meeting and conversing with people in order to learn more.

And, your dad: An extroverted introvert: Someone who has the natural ability of public speaking and making personal connections, but who would rather stay home and watch stupid-ass sports on TV instead of interacting with anyone. (Self-Smart reference #7)

I’m interested in seeing what happens to you in regards to this intelligence. Despite my nature-based leanings, this ability does seem to be something that can be taught (or, observed, I guess) as  as opposed to inherited. Let’s check back in 10 years and see how much time you’re spending in your room.

Intrapersonal Intelligence (Self-Smart)

I saved this intelligence for last, because in my mind, it may be the most crucial of all the intelligences. 

As you’ve seen in the references I’ve inserted above, I really feel like this intelligence informs and enables all of the other intelligences.

The other quirky thing about this intelligence is that it presents a paradox:

The more you’re sure you have this intelligence, the less likely that you actually have it.

If you ask people a question like, “How well do you know yourself?”, the people who are quick to yell, “REALLY WELL!” are the people who may not actually be that self-smart.

If you have high levels of Intrapersonal Intelligence, it means that you question yourself daily. You spend a considerable amount of time pondering the decisions that you’ve made and thinking about whether they were the right choices.

It seems like an intelligence that is severely lacking in our world today. And I get it. Constant reflection can be uncomfortable. It’s easier to just move forward and ignore the mirrors, literal and metaphorical, that you inevitably pass in your everyday life.

And the other thing is that of all the intelligences, Intrapersonal Intelligence might be the hardest to measure. You can take IQ tests that measure your Verbal, Logical, and Spatial intelligences. You can be pretty sure whether you’re a good athlete based on the trophies you accumulate, and you can be confident in your musical abilities based on the applause you get after performances. You can judge your natural abilities by the lushness of your garden, or your people abilities by the number of friends you have.

Though the above measures aren’t totally indicative of your ability, they’re at least a glimpse.

But how do you measure whether you’re “Self-Smart?” There isn’t a test for that. There isn’t a reliable metric.

Also, of all the intelligences, it’s unclear how much of a role genetics have in Intrapersonal Intelligence. Is it something you inherit? Or is it something you have to work on?

I’m not sure. I’m really not. But I know that improving how well you know yourself is super important in understanding what you’re capable of--it helps you know what you might want to pursue as you decide to be who you want to be.

So here are some tips:

1. Spend some time reflecting every day. Am I happy with the decisions I made today? Do I regret the way I acted in any moment? 2. Ensure that the ideas and beliefs that you endorse actually conform with your core beliefs as a human. For example, if you support a person that wants to make it harder for disadvantaged people to get ahead in life, does that reflect your core beliefs about helping the poor?  3. If you examine yourself and realize you’ve done something wrong, be willing to address that wrong, OR apologize for your actions. There is no time limit on this...You can apologize days, weeks, or even years later. This is super hard, but it is vital. I had a close friend once apologize for an argument we’d been in years before--he told me he was wrong, and he was sorry. I wasn’t holding this argument against this friend...It had been long forgotten. But the fact that he brought it up said so much about him...It meant he had done some self-reflection, and he wanted to come clean with himself. It wasn’t really so much about our friendship--we would have been friends whether or not he opened up that old, forgotten wound--but it was more about coming to terms with something he regretted. 

So, apologize to people, even long after the event. Not for them--but for you.

Now, you can’t obsess over every wrong thing you’ve done in your life. It would drive you crazy. You can’t hunt down every stranger you may have somehow offended to make things right. But you can come to terms with it in your own mind and send unreceived apologies out into the universe, even if it’s for your own sake.

For example...Manager of the Marco’s Pizza, I’m sorry I chewed you out when my online order had been deleted and my pizza wasn’t ready. I should have handled that situation much more elegantly.

Nadia--I hope you aren’t  too confused by this post somewhat contradictory message. There’s a bit of cognitive dissonance to try and do these two things at once:

1. Evaluate you on your current progress of these different intelligences at only three years old, and 2. Declare that these intelligences are something that can be learned, gained, and improved upon as you progress through your life.

So, yeah...Your daddy is a jackass. (Self-Smart reference #8)

But what I want you to gain most from this post is to look at yourself, and others, as more than “smart” or “dumb.”

We should all endeavor to start looking at intelligence as something that is a sum of all parts--and even the total sum doesn’t decide your worth.

Instead of labeling people as “smart,” consider calling people “thoughtful, logical, creative, reflective, intuitive, bold, resourceful, and engaging.”

And before calling someone “dumb”...well, take a long, deep look at yourself and think about what makes that person different from you. (Self-Smart reference #9)