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whitehotharlots · 3 months

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Hamster wheel

My first experience with active shooter drills came the autumn after Columbine. I was in a study hall course in our high school’s cafeteria. My seat was approximately ten feet from the exit, then it’d be just a thirty or forty yard dash through the parking lot to safety.

We were walked through the steps. This is what a shooter alarm sounds like, and here’s how it’s different from a tornado alarm and fire alarm. When you hear the shooter alarm, you need to get beneath one of the spacious, fairly high-topped cafeteria tables and place your hands above your head. Whatever you do, you should not attempt to flee.

This was insane enough that even the kids who usually nodded along to everything teachers told them expressed some incredulity. I asked if they were being serious. Like, for real are you being serious? The door is right fucking there. We can leave, instead of putting ourselves in a physical position that would make us much easier targets.

I was told that, yes, this is for real. And any more questions would be met with detention. Now, wait for the alarm and assume your positions. We all complied.

A decade later, I and hundred or so incoming instructors at a large university went through more advanced training--by this point it’d become a cottage industry, and they had instructional videos. We were told not to panic, shut the classroom door, instruct students to get beneath their desks, and don’t let anyone flee.

The good news was that in so large a campus, the odds of the shooter targeting your particular classroom were quite slim. Goodie. And in this case, you’ll never know who’s a cop and who’s a shooter--cops like showing up to active shooting scenarios in plain clothes while wielding large weapons, and what if a good guy mistook you for a bad guy? Also, if the shooter does enter your room, you and your students should throw whatever you have at your disposal toward him, try and disrupt his flow.

In a room full of putative intellectuals, no one bothered to ask how it was that if a man with a gun attempted to enter our classrooms during a mass murder event, we were supposed to be able to tell if he was a bad guy shooter who needed to be stopped, or a good guy police man who would not be legally liable if you spooked him and he killed you.

Of course, I thought back to my high school training. And it finally made sense: the point of active shooter drills is not to mitigate loss of life during a mass shooting. It’s to deflect liability to the institutions that offer the drills. If codifying these procedures actually results in more casualties during a worst case scenario, well... that’s a small price for legal protection.

Columbine is now the touchstone for retro-90′s era school shootings, but to me, at the time, it wasn’t the most horrible or gripping. It all seemed too random, too much like an amateurish media fabrication; a pair of shitheads doing what they thought they needed to do to get nationwide attention.

The one that really scared me, at a young age, was the Westside Middle School shooting a year before. The Columbine shooters were disaffected high school shitheads, like myself, and I felt I could diagnose such a situation on my home turf beforehand and either defuse it or, at the very least, make certain I myself would be in no real danger. The Westside kids were kids, aged thirteen and eleven. They didn’t wander about the halls of their school picking off any random enemy. They had a plan. They gathered a cache of weapons beforehand and pulled a fire alarm knowing where their classmates would congregate after the building had been evacuated. They perched atop a hill and used the high ground to pick off their classmates and teachers amidst the confusion.

What got me about that shooting was the tactics. Literal children, even at the time younger than me, could somehow figure out the value of having the high ground and preying upon mild, manufactured chaos. You didn’t need to be a genius to be very good at murder. You just needed intuition, guns, and some very basic training. This shit could therefore happen anywhere, at any time, and for any reason.

Back to Columbine: it might be hard for younger people to grasp this, but way back in the ancient year of 1999 a school shooting that killed a mere dozen-plus was could capture the nation’s attention enough to remain in the headlines for months.

The internet was still very young at the time; the ubiquitous online-ness afforded by smartphones wouldn’t been seen for another decade, and social media as we know it was still 6-7 years away. Nonetheless, Columbine was the first hyper-modern domestic tragedy. The coverage of previous school shootings focused primarily on the event itself, with minimal attention paid to the shooters’ backgrounds and motivations. Like nearly every other tragedy that proceeded it, Columbine was used a backdrop against which preexisting and mostly unrelated culture war battles could be litigated.

My, how the narratives flowed. The shooters were godless, perhaps even satanic. They were so incensed at their low placement on the social totem pole they exacted horrific revenge against the popular, god fearing masses. Before taking the pure and virginal life of an especially sympathetic, blonde victim, they mockingly asked her if she truly believed in our lord and savior. She was martyred for her affirmative response.

This, we were told, is what happens when the natural social order breaks down. Marilyn Manson, Beavis and Butt-Head, dark clothing, loud music, divorce, feminism, homosexuality... these things are all connected, people! And if we as a society continue allowing for their proliferation, we can only expect more and more horror.

None of the narratives passed scrutiny. The shooters were not disaffected loaners; they were relatively popular and Harris was an athlete. They were not bullied. They did not ask a girl if she believed in God before they shot her. They were not picking off the popular kids while sparing the misbegotten nerds and weirdos. They didn’t even like Marilyn Manson--their favorite band was the avowedly non-violent KMFDM, a group whose lyrics usually sound like something taken from a Dick and Jane book.

In spite of the thorough wrongness of nearly every aspect of the shooting’s coverage, Columbine remains the template for how we process acts of mass domestic violence. There’s no shortage of cultural grievances on either side of aisle, and zero popular or political will to question why it is that a society so inured to needless and manufactured deaths might keep suffering these paroxysms of horror whose targets and scale grow increasingly profane with each passing year. Like every other social problem, the causes are always obvious, always wholly subjective, and yet somehow always just beyond our capacity to control.

The vulnerability is inevitable. Always has been. The only thing preventing the people you pass on the street from ripping your throat out is a shared sense of human connection that was once so basic it didn’t need to be enunciated but now seems like a quaint illusion, perhaps even a malignant trick, a sheet of wool pulled over our once-naive eyes that prevented us from understanding the evil depth of those whose cultural and consumer preferences do not align with our own. The fact that this sort of petty, superficial dehumanization appeared to be driving factor of the initial shootings is ignored. We do not possess the moral bandwidth to acknowledge that we are living in the world idealized by the likes of Eric Harris and Dylan Kleibold.

The terrors keep coming. Our responses make us dumber and more hateful. Our preparations render us much more vulnerable to future horror. The wheel keeps spinning. It will never stop.

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kurakumi · 1 year

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So mainly ive been thinking alot about this certain idea I have with a What if?Luka Jungo, {The Swiss Mark, and legendary Marksman} one of the mentors that Khoa killed in front of Bruce was actually a spouse to “The Still” {Aka Mr. Zuma} in which is Ra’s right hand. But honestly with Luka’s and Mr. Zuma’s relationship would be in the beginning enemies to lovers trope. But here are some headcanons I wrote down in a discord in which I was talking to with a buddy of mine that’s a ghostmakerstan and ghostbat stan mutual

I feel as tho Luka be that type where he likes to be loved and such but when The Still is flirting with him in public he be like "Stooop" and get all flushed, but when their alone he'll play along, probably sometimes with smooches. Another headcanon is that Avery never knew that Luka and this right-hand of ras dude were together but once she found out she lost her shit, and makes fun of Luka for it.

Okay some random ideas on how they met The Still was on a mission on hunting a wanted ex-league member down in by order by ra's since this guy was going to expose them. Luka is in the same situation but different request in which he should kill the dude due to reasons by his governments request in which led them to be working together for a year to find this dude and take down anyone protecting him, in which develops their friendship from enemies to lovers. Real quick, Luka actually felt suspicious towards "The Still" since he was an assassin in all, but he found his presence to not be as scary at all, and found him to be a chill, and very knowledgeable guy. Luka for the other hand was difficult to get along with and tried to work on this mission for himself but that wasn't the case, until Still came along he tried to keep all his alias and allies in secret but obviously "The Still" knows everything, but he noticed how worn down Luka was towards killing people for the government. And decided to give him the pep talk of whether or not settling is an option which opens Luka up more towards The Stills question, but still in caution.

But after a year from trying to put this guy down Luka managed to be closer to The Still due to his help and good advises they manage to get close and then secretly dating even tho "The Still" is an assassin overall and including being ras right hand, in which Luka then found out from stills mouth, but kept it a secret to the grave, and thank God the government didn't find out about that shit lmao. But at times Luka would be in missions right before he gets in his sniping position at times he finds "The Still" watching him, or actually distract him before he takes the kill but mostly there to comfort when needed. After Luka retires and in his lil cabin, once a month Still, actually comes over to visit a few months before having to go back to being The Right Hand, in which influence Still, to wanting to retire because of Luka just wanting to settle with his hubby.

But yet I do have an alternate universe, is a “what if” Luka lived and wasn’t killed. But with Luka and The Still, having to be almost parent figures towards Khoa and Bruce. But also I had this alternate vers where Luka and The Still become some what like a parent figures to Khoa and Bruce when they first were trying to train to become vigilantes {Also Luka never got killed by Khoa since Khoa reminds him much of The Still, when he first met him, but he notice this kid needs some guidance on not to be too reckless, or it's going to get him in a bad shape and well, Bruce reminds him of himself actually slightly.}

And Khoa and Bruce do break up tho, by a fight they have towards eachother which left Bruce heartbroken, but Luka just pats Bruce on the back and just been like "yeah, I already know this type he'll be back, I promise." But he does get shot but not by Khoa but by either another target he has to do by force, as to trying to protect both Bruce and Khoas trails while they were finding more teachers, some government officials actually found interest in those two kids and Luka was not having it, (John Wick Style) and {during this time The Still wasn't there since he gone back to ra's.}

{in which is where the timeline is when The Still watches over those two, until he fights Bruce and Khoa, and gives them the info about ra's during when Bruce went back to Gotham with the red car bitch dude aka Daniel.} But with Luka when he finally sees the target and it's actually David cain, {in which in this alternate universe David was trained by Luka first rather than Bruce and Khoa} and by this Luka was troubled and his mind was going crazy on finding out about how David became a mass murderer and as he sees David with a sniper rifle same as his, Luka didn't take the shot, but it was David leaving poor Luka majorly wounded from his scope shattered from the rifle with some scalpels into his left eye in which some of the government officials thought he was dead but he wasn't, he was rescued by Avery Obolonsky and taken care of until he was able to adjust having to lose one eye.

But these are my Luka x The Still! Ship Idea, and sadly it’s a ship that’s probably never going to exist

#luka jungo #the still #batman: the knight #batman #ghostmaker #minhkhoa khan #bruce wayne #luka and the still being a wholesome and bad ass parent figures #luka x zuma #idk about the ship name #sadly this ship may not exist ;-;#ghostbat

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daikon1 · 2 years

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What advice would you give for writing a slow burn romance?

Hi Anon! Thank you for the ask! Slow burn is one of my favorite tropes and I can talk about it all day, so I apologize if this is a little lengthy 😂

First, a definition: Slow Burn is (most often) a story about overcoming a series of obstacles keeping apart a couple who want to be together. These obstacles may be internal (e.g., A doesn’t think they’re good enough for B), external (e.g., B’s family expect them to be with C, even though B wants to be with A), or a combination therein.

The most important thing to remember when writing a slow burn is that, despite these obstacles, your couple should always be inching closer to each other. It’s okay (and likely expected!) if a new obstacle pops up once they resolve an existing one, so long as the setbacks never exceed the progress. One step forward, a half a step back. Two steps forward, one step back. If you take one step forward and two steps back, you’re out of balance and risk throwing off the vibe of your story and upsetting the people consuming your content.

You may have heard of the “slow burn that burned too long” and personally, I would like to posit that this doesn’t exist (See: Skip Beat!, probably the most glorious slowest-burn shoujo manga out there, which let a couple dance around each other for over two decades). Instead, slow burn stories that feel “too long” are ones that mishandled the concept and let the couple get so close to getting together that the setbacks ceased to stay in proportion to and ultimately overwhelmed the progress, making the relationship start to feel tedious instead of compelling. The farther away your couple is from forming at the start of the story (and the more infinitesimal your progress), the longer you can make the slow burn last.

That said, if your progress towards the relationship is very very slow, you need a lot of other plot to carry the narrative. The relationship forming cannot be the entire focal point of the story if it is going to take ten chapters for A and B to even realize they might like each other; you need other stuff going on or it will feel stale (think: The Office. There were plenty of other shenanigans carrying us through the seasons besides just “Will Pam and Jim ever get together?”)

Some people might tell you the longer your slow burn goes, the more dramatic the resolution needs to be to be satisfying. I think this WILDLY depends on the story itself and the logic/stakes of the universe you’ve created. While all slow burns deserve a grand romantic gesture and confession (though this may or may not actually resolve the slow burn!), your resolution needs to be consistent with the tone and themes of the story you’ve written. Though dramatic, a race through the airport or B diving in front of a speeding car to save A might not make sense in the universe and conflict you’ve built. Sometimes A finally letting B go but then coming home to find B waiting on their doorstep with a pizza and an “I love you” is all the story needs. Use your best judgment here.

Also of note and speaking of endings, you cannot put out the fire once it starts. Let me repeat that, because it is critical to avoiding upsetting the folks consuming your content: You cannot put out the fire once it starts. Once the couple actually gets together, breaking them up is not part of a slow burn, and in fact will likely upset anyone consuming your content. The point of a slow burn is to watch and enjoy the torture of these two people trying to overcome all obstacles and figure out how they can be together, and it is not satisfying to let them get together just to break them up again to try to drag out the tension longer. This is a case of your setbacks exceeding your progress and is a betrayal of the slow burn premise, as well as of the expectations of those people consuming your content. Do not do it. Once your couple forms, either your story is done (if that was the primary action of the story) or you get into established relationship drama (if your slow burn was B-plot in a grander narrative).

Aside from this general advice, I highly recommend seeking out slow burn stories and doing your own research! Consume as much slow burn content as you can, and for each one, ask yourself:

What did I like about this story? What didn’t work for me?

What was done well? What was not so great?

Did anything in the relationship development feel contrived, frustrating, or unsatisfying? What and why?

Were there points where I felt bored with or uninvested in the relationship development? If so, was there anything that would have made it more interesting?

Once you’ve figured out what works for you and what you enjoy, you can apply that to your own writing!!

Good luck 😘

#on writing #on slow burns #asks #answered #asks answered #long post

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mattdemers · 1 year

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My safari through current social media alternatives

So I figured that after a week of Twitter doomposting by other people, I'd weigh in with my thoughts on the vibes/applications of social media sites that people have migrated to. This isn't meant to be a scientific tier list, just thoughts.

Tumblr

I haven't been here in years. Things are largely the same, but there's been some UI improvements, and I've liked things like the new posting UI (still needs some work. Would prefer Markdown, but I get how zoomers aren't going to put up with that).

Aesthetically, it feels like the transition from being 18 to 22. Like, the company voice is a bit more older/sassier/"leaning into what people told it that its strengths were" and I don't know if that's good or bad. I feel that it's a bit limiting but I think Tumblr needs all the help it can get.

I've also noticed a lot more gamification, encouragement, "things that you are doing correctly that we are going to enforce" from Tumblr itself, which is probably positive.

Probably will be fine in the short term.

Cohost (Link to me)

"Tumblr, with a shit colour scheme."

I'm having trouble with Cohost mostly because I've done the least amount of exploration for new people to follow or hashtag discovery. I really like the post editor (it's Markdown, see above) but I can understand how that's going to hurt it.

It reminds me of a university/college internal website for students, aesthetically. I don't want to say "who is this for?" but there's a larger deficit when it comes to its identity as a site. Tumblr is clear what it wants to be, and who it wants to house, and Cohost was sold to me "for creators" but I have less idea how/why/beyond that.

Clicking into a tag for "league of legends" (which I guess might be a good comparison across platforms) the last post in that tag was 3 days ago.

Yeah, I'm kinda thinking Cohost is gonna be dead, or a zombie like Vero Social in a year.

Mstndn.social (Link to me)

It's hard to talk about Mastodon due to the nature of federation, so I can only zoom out and talk about "the normie experience" that I'm seeing.

I think people are using Masto as a bit of a panacea; they see a familiar Twitter-ish interface, but are lost with the tech-speak of federation and what it might mean. I've seen ambitious people start their own instances and think it's "building a new Twitter" in terms of scale expectations, but it's not. You're essentially building your own pillow fort.

The thing is, I think some people might be... hoping otherwise? Like, the stuff that's interesting me most about Masto is the Lord of the Flies scenarios happening in certain circles, where they're finding out:

How much work actually goes into moderation, and how unsexy it is

What happens when people you don't know/can't vet are joining your instance

What happens when people have a visible person they can point their grievances to

To be honest I'm not optimistic about Mastodon but I think it serves a purpose in educating people about what was convenient about Twitter. They'll go crawling back, and maybe a few people will embrace the "local" group they've now joined.

Some normies literally have never had the experience of joining a small forum and learning to love that community; this isn't that. It's more like Reddit, where one account enables you to post everywhere, but you might find a "home" subreddit.

I've been using Pinafore as a better UI for Masto and I've been enjoying it.

Other thoughts

I joined The Hive about two seconds ago, but I'm moreso just reserving a username in case it blows up. A two-person team and being on the market for multiple years before this kind of makes me wary, mostly because I think they're hungry to accept any kind of winning milestone, and that means they're going to listen to anyone if it makes them think they can keep the momentum.

Tech users largely don't know what they want, and it's going to waste the resources of a dev team in order to try to get everyone satisfied. If they're doing crowdfunding, I'm kinda also pessimistic, because man that's setting up for some "I paid for X!" complaints.

What's funny/cool is I've gotten "mattd" on all these platforms, not "mattdemers." Kinda nice to shift a little bit because I'm very insecure about saying my last name verbally and having people be able to find me. Oh well.

It's the URL of my new Substack too, where I'll be posting more things like this, if you want more. It isn't launched yet, and is under construction, but it's there if you want to move early.

#social media #cohost #hive social #tumblr #mastodon #mstdnsocial #fediverse #sociology #technology #twitterpocalypse #elon musk twitter #twitter

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staledirt87 · 4 months

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hey under the cut I'm gonna put some rly triggering stuff about suicide and suicidal ideation, please don't read if you're gonna be triggered, I just need this out there

The question of "why do I want to die" has been one that I've never truthfully been able to answer. I know I'm not "special" in the sense that I'm God's special child that's worthless and hated for no apparent reason other than existing. I also know that life holds intrinsic value, and that simply by living I have enough worth to warrant keeping around. but I have a hard time seeing the value of living on a logical standpoint. now my friend would tell me that you can't value life by logic alone, but that's how I always see the world. logic isn't logic unless you factor in emotion.

I see it as a simple pros vs cons, seperated into two categories: self and others

self pros

> pain ends

> responsibility ends

> stress ends

> anxiety ends

> I end the possibility of future pain

self cons

> I no longer have a chance for future happiness

> my dreams are automatically devoid of purpose

other pros

> I am no longer a concern of their's

> they do not have to factor me into plans

> they have more time to themselves and their other friends

> the energy they used on me can be used on other things

other cons

> they have to grieve me for an indefinite amount of time

> the things they used to do with me they can no longer do

> what I put into the world is no more

> anyone who looked up to me has lost a stable figure

that's the end of the doomsday pros and cons list, and by tallying it up, there are more pros than cons. additionally, it is a landmark in almost every ideology that yourself comes before others. not always, of course, but you must always consider yourself before others, in case you over exert yourself. now, I understand and acknowledge the pain and suffering of others that my death may cause, but I find it secondary to my own hopelessness and depression.

let me put it this way: why should I, my own person, be forced to work and exhaust myself for others' happiness? that is shunned upon almost everywhere, yet when it comes to suicide, it is thrown out of the window. "a permanent solution to a temporary problem." I've always had issues with that. it's not truly a temporary problem. I have major depressive disorder, severe and recurrent. which means it is not a temporary problem, but a permanent one. medication and therapy is a temporary solution to a permanent problem, whereas suicide is a permanent solution to a permanent problem.

it's also important to point out the fact that me being dead does as much as me being alive does. how many times do you see people citing dead loved ones as inspirations to do wonderful things? I know my death would hurt my friends, but as everyone will say, your friends in high school don't stay your friends. they would forget me anyway, and in less than a decade they will have forgotten my name whether I'm alive or dead.

I must also say that in the grand scheme of the universe, we are but specks of specks. our life is a blip in the expanse of time, so my status of life doesn't have any real affect on the world

all this is to say, there's really no point in my life. when it comes to a time that the net emotion of life is negative rather than positive, and the net effect of your death is more positive, then it is illogical to say that I shouldn't kill myself.

of course, this all means nothing if I don't have the means to commit, but I have several plans in my mind. I'm not near as safe as my parents think I am.

#tw suicide mention #stale speaks #venting #suicide tw

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longits · 2 years

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My teenage son wants to quit all sports

#My teenage son wants to quit all sports professional

It’s a description of a very particular kind of mental health crisis. When figuring out what to do when your son or daughter is having a nervous breakdown, it is important to recognize that there is no one thing that’s a “nervous breakdown.” That isn’t strictly a clinical term. But you can take the time to understand what they are going through, and work with them to get them the help they need. Like Kathryn, you can’t protect your children from everything, especially not now that they’re adults. A parent needs to recognize the signs of a nervous breakdown to lessen its impact or to avoid it, and avoid the dangers of a prolonged case. People suffer nervous breakdowns for a variety of reasons, mostly due to stresses and pressures. And as the parent of a 20-something adult, it can be hard to know what to do when your adult son or daughter is having a nervous breakdown. This is a mental and physical challenge for anyone, but especially for college students. Kathryn’s son had what is generally called a nervous breakdown, caused when someone is unable to deal with what feels like an overwhelming amount of stress or pressure. I don’t know, maybe that’s why Tom… got sick.” “I was worried about boys and homework, but at least I could sleep at night.

#My teenage son wants to quit all sports professional

Miner also points out that “There is a clear push for kids to specialize and achieve at the highest possible level,” even though “early specialization can be harmful in terms of long-term injuries, and it does little to increase one’s overall chances of later collegiate or professional success.” Visek agrees that “sports specialization gets you nowhere fast.” So rather than worrying about your child finding the best sport and sticking with it until they become masters, a more beneficial approach would be to let them try new things for the fun of it, and to think about many different ways to stay active and practice a range of movements.“It wasn’t like this when we were kids”, Kathryn said. Not making them play soccer or football because you played it, not living vicariously through our own kids.” In addition, she recommends keeping things positive, providing encouragement and support, and asking kids what they’re learning and what is rewarding about playing. One of Visek’s top tips, as told to the Way of Champions podcast, is to really “listen to what the kid wants … fostering their own sense of autonomy, giving them choice. So how can parents prevent kids from being driven away from sports? “Sports, and particularly team sports, tend to give women and girls things that they otherwise have a hard time getting, like resilience, grit, knowledge of teamwork, knowledge of leadership,” argued Debora Spar, a professor at Harvard Business School. Unfortunately, this attitude leads to many kids missing out on crucial life skills that can be developed from being on a sports team-and these can be even more important for girls. If they’re not, they’re encouraged to cut their losses and focus on areas where they can excel.” The pressure to raise ‘successful’ kids means that we expect them to be the best. She writes in the Washington Post, “Our culture no longer supports older kids playing for the fun of it. Julianna Miner, a parent of three, agrees that pressure from adults is a major factor in kids quitting sports. Visek also researched what kids feel takes the fun out of sports, and some of the most prevalent answers had to do with unwanted parent behaviors (such as putting too much pressure on athletes, or yelling at coaches or officials during games) and unwanted coaching behaviors. Rather than defining fun as goofing off, the young sports players in the research study defined fun in 81 different ways, and the three most important categories were “being a good sport,” “positive coaching,” and “trying hard.” Amanda Visek, a professor at George Washington University, has designed a comprehensive research project to map out what kids think is “fun” or “not fun” about playing sports-and the answers are far from what adults tend to expect.

#My teenage son wants to quit all sports

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alibidigger5 · 2 years

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animeomegas · 3 years

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Pregnant!Omega!Sasuke Headcanons

Anon: How about omega Sasuke being pregnant with an over protective mate?

@hakunamatatayqueen: Ooh ooh could I request some fluffy pregnant omega sasuke headcanons?👀 this baby deserves so much love and happiness omg pLz I love him so much- AND GOOD LUCK WITH UR WORK DARLING I’m in the same situation😔 so take your time and no worries🖤

(Sasuke is so popular on this blog haha! I thought I would combine these requests because they work so well together <3 Also, yes, I just want good things for Sasuke. He was screwed over so much throughout his life and I just want to make it better :( Thank you for the well wishes on my work, it’s not been fun to start university during a pandemic haha. I still haven’t met any classmates or teachers in person rip. I hope your work goes well too! I decided to write this because I already had a lot written already haha. Enjoy!!)

Warnings: Mpreg, swearing, mental breakdown, morning sickness mention ((and non-graphic description) I talked around it because I’m emetophobic haha)

There is very little in the world that Sasuke hates more than being pregnant.

He doesn’t just find the experience unpleasant, he hates it.

He feels trapped and uncomfortable all the time.

Too hot and too cold constantly.

He feels weak and useless and at the mercy of his instincts.

And that’s not even mentioning the horrible morning sickness, paranoia and mood swings.

He wanted to revive his family so badly, but the realities had him regretting his decision more than once, even if he was happy in the end.

This is the time in Sasuke’s life that he needs the support of his alpha the most.

Sasuke will refuse to get pregnant a second time. No exceptions.

He would get sterilised as soon as was safe after he had given birth.

TRIMESTER 1:

During his first trimester, Sasuke tries his hardest to carry on as normal.

I cannot tell you how many times you have to stop him from training so he doesn’t hurt himself or your pup.

He was also miserable when he was banned from taking any more missions.

He’s pretty good about going to his doctor’s appointments though and has no problem going to them alone if you’re busy.

He suffers from morning sickness during this time. An omega’s morning sickness can be helped with the scent of their alpha, so you end up spending lots of time scenting him when he feels awful.

Sasuke doesn’t tell many people that he’s pregnant and doesn’t like other people cooing over him. You get permission but he’ll act like he doesn’t enjoy it.

Sasuke has a very strong nesting urge from day 1, and he never thinks his nest is good enough. He spends a lot of time buying new materials for his nest, rearranging things and scenting everything. You are very lucky that Sasuke was the sole inheritor of all the Uchiha wealth with how many nesting supplies he buys.

You hovered uncomfortably outside the bathroom door, listening to your mate be violently ill in the early hours of the morning. He didn’t want you in there with him but your alpha was running in circles, desperate to help your mate somehow.

Eventually the sounds from the bathroom ceased. You waited for a moment before hesitantly knocking on the door.

“Sasuke?” You called out. “Can I come in?”

You heard a grunt that you decided to take as a positive response.

Swinging open the door, you let out a sigh and a quiet whine.

Sasuke was slouched on the floor, draped part way over the toilet. He looked pale and exhausted.

“Oh, baby.” You sighed, moving towards his shivering form.

“Go away.” He grumbled, resting his head on his arms. “It’s gross.”

You ignored him, crouching down to sit on the floor and shifting to sit behind him. You sat flush against his back, wrapping your arms gently around his waist. You started to release a gentle scent to help him with the nausea.

Sasuke took a few deep breaths before slumping back against you.

You cradled him as gently as you could, wiping his hair back from his sweat soaked forehead.

“Feeling better?” You whispered into his ear, rubbing soothing circles on his small baby bump.

Sasuke hummed, eyes already closed, nuzzling into your neck. He lifted a hand and latched onto the sleeve of your shirt, seemingly unaware of what he was doing.

You looked down at his exhausted form, clinging onto you in ways he would never normally let himself do, and you made a decision.

“I’m not going into work today.”

Sasuke’s eyes flew open at your words.

“No.” He scoffed. “You don’t need to stay here for me, I’m absolutely fine.”

He started trying to get up but you pulled him back against you, raising an eyebrow at his words.

��I want to stay, Sasuke.” You scented him some more, just in case any nausea still remained. “Think you can move back to bed?”

Sasuke hesitated. You waited patiently for his answer, rubbing small circles on his hips.

“I want...” Sasuke started, blushing. “I think I want to go to my nest.”

“That sounds like an excellent idea, omega. Do you want me to join you?”

“Please.” He whispered, embarrassed.

You helped him stand up from the bathroom floor and went to spend the rest of the day cuddled up in his nest.

TRIMESTER 2:

During trimester 2 Sasuke begins to show. He doesn’t get many stretch marks because his stomach is pretty small (but still healthy).

His mood swings start to get pretty extreme from this point.

Sasuke is very clingy and he gets frustrated when you have to leave him for too long. When you do leave him he gets cold or angry and always kicks you out of his nest for a day.

Sasuke starts to leave the house less and less in his second trimester. This is for many reasons. Firstly, he hates the attention he gets and doesn’t want to risk running into anyone he knows. He just doesn’t want to deal with it. Secondly, he gets a little paranoid about someone hurting his pup. You’re not really sure when those feelings start because he keeps them to himself, but when you find out you’re very worried.

To deal with it, you convince him to go on walks and dates with you outside the house. With you there, his anxiety is lessened, and it helps him cope with the paranoia.

Sasuke starts to develop cravings during this period. No one is surprised that he now wants tomatoes for every meal and snack. Every market day, you bring a huge bag and just clear out every tomato there. Sasuke refuses to cook when he’s pregnant so you end up cutting so many tomatoes over the duration of his pregnancy.

Finally, during his second trimester, Sasuke starts to be satisfied with his nest. And then subsequently spends every moment he can buried inside it. His nest is his safe space and putting him in there is a fool proof strategy to calm him down or ease discomfort.

You sat with Sasuke in his nest, watching him fuss over some pillows in the corner. He was wearing an oversized shirt, but you could still see his pregnant tummy pressing against the fabric when he moved in a certain way. You couldn’t resist.

Leaning over to him, you pushed up his shirt and uncovered his bump. You nuzzled into his stomach, pressing kisses into his skin as you went. You giggled against him when he froze.

Sasuke stiffened and then pushed your face away firmly. You fell backwards gently, knocking over a blanket that Sasuke had pinned to the wall. You both looked at each other in silence for a moment before Sasuke huffed in displeasure.

“You ruin everything in here, I don’t know why I let you in.” He growled, moving over to that corner to try and fix it.

You looked at him, playfully betrayed.

“You pushed me!”

“Because you deserved it, idiot.” Sasuke scoffed.

You pouted at him in reply, watching as he easily reattached the blanket.

“Are you mad at me?” You fake whined, opening your arms out for a hug.

“Tch,” He blushed, accepting your embrace. “Just don’t do it again.”

“I won’t.” You crooned, nuzzling him furiously. Sasuke accepted the affection with no complaint. He must be more tired than you thought.

You both dozed peacefully in each others embrace, basking in the comfort of Sasuke’s nest and the pleasant mingling of your scents.

Until Sasuke swore suddenly, pulling himself out of your arms and scaring you half to death.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” You panicked, hands flailing in an attempt to figure out what was wrong with him.

“Foot cramp.” Sasuke grunted between clenched teeth, hands starting to massage at his foot awkwardly. He couldn’t reach comfortably around his bump.

“Here, let me.” You quickly moved to sit at his feet, gently massaging while Sasuke let out pained hisses. You kept going until Sasuke had fully relaxed back into the pillows of his nest.

“Fucking foot cramps.” Sasuke sighed, pulling you back towards him, and trying to position you both back into your original position. Scarcely a few moments had passed before Sasuke groaned again.

“Now they decides to wake up.” He grumbles, shifting to lift up his shirt.

You watched in awe as your pup began to kick.

“This never gets old.” You whispered. “I can’t believe that’s our pup in there.”

“I wish they’d let me sleep.” Sasuke grumbled, a fond smile on his face nevertheless.

“Get comfortable and I’ll try to soothe the pup. Try to get some sleep, omega, you deserve it.”

TRIMESTER 3:

This is where Sasuke’s mental state starts to decline.

He has a very strong flight reflex when he gets overwhelmed, but obviously he can’t run away from being pregnant, so this just makes him more distressed.

Sasuke is a very light sleeper generally, and being pregnant means he is rarely comfortable enough to sleep properly, and sleep deprivation makes everything worse.

Sasuke ends up having so many breakdowns that he needs someone with him at all times to make sure he won’t accidentally hurt himself or the pup when he’s not in a good headspace.

Sasuke ends up being induced early to end the severe mental strain he is under.

You watched sadly as Sasuke sobbed pitifully on your bed. You had tried to help, but he threw a fit when you tried to touch him.

“I don’t want this anymore.” He sobbed. “I can’t-I can’t sleep, I’m too hot, everything hurts, I’m useless!” His hands started to shake.

“No, no, no, sweetheart.” You rushed over to him. “You’re okay, we’ll make it okay.”

“I want to get them out!” His hands started to twitch.

You intervened immediately, shifting his hands away from his stomach, just in case. Sasuke started to sob into your arms.

“Shh, omega.” You scented him, desperate to calm him down. You felt so powerless. “Do you want to come with me to your nest? Would that help?”

Sasuke shook his head desperately. “Too hot.”

You had an idea.

“A bath then? A nice cool one. I’ll join you and wash your hair for you, yes?”

Sasuke didn’t respond, but you made the decision for him.

Ten minutes later, you were lowering him into a cool bath, and climbing in behind him. Sasuke slumped against you, exhausted after his breakdown. You welcomed him into your embrace, running cool fingers up and down his arms.

“Better?” You whispered.

“Yeah.” He croaked back. “Sorry.”

“S’alright, my love. Just relax.”

You tenderly washed his hair for him, careful to keep shampoo out of his eyes. You smiled when Sasuke started to purr as you massaged his head, relieved that he was feeling better.

You then wiped him down with a cool flannel. When Sasuke began to shiver, you pulled the plug and helped him out of the bath. You dried his hair for him and fetched him an oversized shirt to wear. It was when you were entering back into the room that you suddenly remembered something.

“Oh, I totally forgot.” You leant down and pulled a long, thin pillow out from under your bed. “I bought this today.” You held it up for him to see. “It’s supposed to help you sleep when you’re pregnant.”

Sasuke took the pillow.

“How does it work?”

You laid him down and helped position the pillow, making sure to wrap it under his bump to support him. When you were done, it was immediately obvious that Sasuke was comfortable. He went boneless against the pillow, eyes already drooping, the dark circles under his eyes suddenly more apparent.

You slid into bed beside him, careful not to crowd and overheat him. Instead, you took his hand in yours, rubbing the back with your thumb.

“We’ll go to the hospital tomorrow.” You began. “See if they can induce you early.”

“’kay.” He replied, half-asleep.

You pressed a gentle kiss against his mating mark.

“Sleep tight, my omega.”

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thornedrose44 · 3 years

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Prompt: “I can’t do this. Just leave me alone.”

Read on AO3

"Goodnight, Kara." Lena said from across the room when she finally managed to catch Kara's eye.

It was the first time they had made eye contact since Kara had welcomed her inside at the start of the night. Kara startled at the sudden sight of Lena, waving farewell as she stepped quietly towards the door, but made no move to follow after her and when the door swung quietly shut behind her Lena knew things would never be the same.

It was Kara's birthday party (her Earth birthday party to those that happened to be in the know, which to Lena's un-surprise was a rather considerable group all things considered). Kara had invited her, further proof of the strength of their newly reaffirmed friendship. Lena had been grateful for the invite, appreciating it as the sign that they were back on the right track, and accepted it without hesitation.

She had then proceeded to spend hours upon hours thinking of the perfect gift for Kara, excitement and anticipation building in her stomach.

It would be her first proper night out in months after being thrown back into her role as CEO and dealing with all the negative press following Lex’s downfall and upcoming conviction. Her working hours had reached an excess that she had never achieved before. The blowback onto her in the form of hatred for the Luthors was even greater than last time as well, despite her crucial role in taking Lex down. She was still deemed guilty by association especially since she had been working closely with Lex for a long time before revelations about his villainy became apparent.

The news were critiquing her every move, slandering her every chance they got and rallying the masses to a fervour - she was now facing at least one assassination attempt every week.

Regardless of all that, Lena had one salvation, one light of hope that she clung onto. Her friendship with Kara. It was growing again. They were spending time together. Relearning one another or learning about each for the first time in Lena's case. The conversation was finally less stilted and the trust was back.

But there was still something missing, something stopping them from returning to exactly where they were before.

Lena, as the months ticked by, realised that they were no longer as physically close as they once were. Hugs were rare. Gentle touches of the hands were swiftly snatched back to prevent lingering. Even extended eye contact was fleeting.

Lena at first thought the problem was that she had hurt Kara so badly that the woman who sometimes communicated solely through physical affection no longer wanted to be touched by Lena. That broke something in Lena. That Kara, even though she was trying to be kind, friendly and forgiving to Lena, was not comfortable with any sort of physical contact between them, drove Lena into a drunken stupor of college-level proportions.

Once the alcohol was out of her system and she had suitably recovered from her hangover, Lena had allowed the scientist within her to take over.

No more assumptions.

She would gather evidence, make an hypothesis and work towards a solution.

If she wanted Kara back in her life properly - cuddles on the sofa and lengthy hugs a necessity of that - Lena would put the effort in.

So she observed… and what she observed was this…

Pink cheeks and bashful expressions whenever their gazes met.

A thick swallow and faltering breath whenever their hands brushed.

Deep sighs and fingers digging fleetingly into her back as if on the edge of pulling her closer whenever they embraced.

Dark eyes and teeth biting into a bottom lip whenever Lena stretched or moved her hair away from her neck.

Attraction, affection and interest .

Lena didn’t believe the results of her evidence; she re-ran the tests over and over again trying to work out if she had just interacted with Kara on an odd day, if she just happened to be thinking about something (someone) else at the same time but… it kept happening over and over again.

If it had been anyone else, Lena wouldn’t have doubted what she was seeing but… but.. This was Kara.

Kara, who she had been in love with since she had walked into her office with her cousin.

Kara, who had never picked up on or reacted to her flirts.

Kara, who had broken her heart with lies.

Kara, who meant so much to her.

Kara, who she had only just gotten back.

Was it worth the risk?

Fear had blinded her, of that she had no doubt, but was it keeping her safe from the hurtful truth of Kara not wanting to touch her anymore or from the potential happiness that Kara returned her feelings but was too sweet or shy to put herself in a position that would make Lena uncomfortable.

Lena decided to take a chance - just this once because even if she was wrong about Kara not feeling the same, she had to believe that Kara was incapable of being cruel to her if she misread it. They promised each other honesty and Lena intended to show it.

It was why she needed to buy the perfect present, something that hinted that Kara’s feelings (if Lena was right) were returned. And just a week before the party, she knew exactly what the perfect present would be.

She wrapped it personally (normally Jess would wrap any gifts she had to send out), wanting to go the extra mile. It wasn’t perfectly done, a bit messy in places and the sellotape was excessive but she had done it herself which she knew Kara would appreciate more than professional gift wrapping.

Lena, however, realised that she had made a mistake the second she arrived at Kara's.

Knew she had misread… everything …

Because Kara… Kara couldn't stand to be near her for longer than it took to say hello, accept the present and then disappear off.

Lena hadn’t expected to be with Kara for all of the party; it was Kara's party and loads of her friends were in attendance, all of whom wanted to spend it with Kara. Who wouldn't?

It's just… Lena…

Lena didn't have anyone else.

It was made abundantly clear to Lena within the first thirty seconds that she was not welcome. Alex gave her a gruff nod from across the room before turning her back to her - she still didn't trust her and Lena had prioritised winning Kara back over the last few months above everything else. Brainy and Nia smiled at her but they were deep in conversation with CatCo employees all of whom were practically snarling at Lena (clearly not Luthor fans). James was here as well and dear God did he give her such a blazing look of hatred Lena was surprised she didn't burst into flames under its ferocity. (They hadn’t dated in this rewritten universe, much to Lena’s pleasure, though his original dislike for her was clearly a mainstay of every universe).

So… Lena grabbed a drink and stood in the corner as Kara moved seamlessly between her various groups of friends and colleagues, never once sparing Lena even a glance. The majority of her movements were accompanied by William Dey, who repeatedly tried to sling an arm around Kara's shoulder - the only joy Lena got from the evening was watching Kara repeatedly squirm out from under his touch.

She held out for two hours, sipping three beers and glancing intermittently at her phone as she stayed in her corner, hoping that Kara would come over for just five minutes.

Five minutes with Kara wasn't too much to ask for, was it?

Five mere minutes with Kara would have made the whole night worth it, made the glares and malevolent whispers sent her way worth it.

It was at the two hour mark that Lena accepted the truth.

Kara wasn't going to come over to talk to her.

Kara hadn't been pulling away from her due to a sudden realisation of feelings and attraction.

Kara hadn't expected her to accept the invite. Hadn't wanted her to accept.

Kara was ashamed of her, that was why she pulled away, why she didn't acknowledge her.

Lena couldn't really blame her but that didn't mean she had to stay and take it. So gathering what was left of her dignity, she shuffled towards the door, caught Kara's eye, waved and slipped outside… though, not before retrieving the present she had brought for Kara… it would have revealed far too much and Lena didn't need to deal with that on top of everything else.

Lena returned to her office for no other reason that she still had some good liquor stored there - Kara had encouraged her a couple of months ago to cut back on her drinking and she couldn’t deny the baby blue puppy dog eyes. She staggered into her office, chucking the present she had spent hours creating onto the sofa - she would buy Kara some random meaningless gift like a nice scarf or jumper tomorrow instead - and poured herself a full tumbler before flipping open her laptop and getting to work. She lost herself in designs and business plans as she made her way through the bottle.

She used to sit and brood when she drank but Sam had made her promise she wouldn’t do that anymore, hazel eyes filled with concern at where Lena’s mind wandered when unoccupied and fuelled by alcohol. Whilst Lena was in a pretty bleak space, she refused to hurt her last (and only) friend by breaking the one promise she had made to her.

It must have been two am when Lena heard a familiar thud from the balcony followed by a gentle knock that could only belong to one person.

“Kara, to what do I owe the pleasure?” Lena called out, not bothering to lift her gaze away from her laptop screen - she wasn't sure whether the sight of Kara would evoke tears or fury and she wished to give Kara neither.

“Hey… I just wanted… I was…" Kara stammered out; Lena didn't need to see her to know that she was fidgeting with the edge of her cape as she tiptoed nervously closer. "You know… flying around and saw the light on and figured I would check in on you, see how you were doing…”

“I’m fine. Just working.” Lena replied brusquely taking a sip of her whiskey.

“And drinking…” Kara muttered, her tone more worried than disapproving but Lena took offense regardless.

“Yes. It’s a Saturday night, cut me some slack.” Lena snapped back, defiantly swallowing what was left in her glass before slamming it down onto her desk.

The loud clack as it connected with the surface was followed by a heavy, almost suffocating silence.

“You left early.” Kara whispered into the unnatural stillness, shattering the fraudulent focus Lena had on her computer screen with those three words. Kara didn't sound confused or upset, just painfully neutral as if to emotionally step back from the situation so that she could garner some emotional truth from the CEO instead.

Well, Lena was done with that, done with giving more of herself than Kara wanted so she took a deep, calming breath and allowed her painstakingly crafted mask to slip into place.

“I wasn’t the first to leave.” Lena pointed out calmly, finally turning to look at Kara, certain she could keep her voice and face blank. It was then that she saw how… small Kara looked, which was never a word Lena would have used to describe Kara in full Supergirl regalia in the entire time she had known her. Kara looked defeated and lost, a tremble to her lip and very being that she tried to hide behind a shy smile.

“Well… I didn’t get a chance to talk to you…” Kara replied, ducking her head meekly as she admitted. “I wanted to talk to you.”

Lena pursed her lips at that, “I was there for over two hours, Kara. You could have come over whenever you wanted. It wasn’t like I was occupied.”

“Yeah… what was that about?” Kara laughed, rubbing the back of her neck, trying far too hard to make her tone light as if even the idea of Lena being without company was an entirely absurd concept.

The high-pitch to Kara's laugh and the unfamiliar tension around her eyes revealed to Lena that Kara knew exactly why Lena had been standing all alone that evening.

“I’m a Luthor, Kara." Lena replied sharply, not interested in trying to smooth over the harsh truths like Kara was always so keen to do when it suited her. "No one wanted me there and they all made that very clear.”

“I wanted you there.” Kara replied so soft and earnest that Lena nearly believed her.

“I highly doubt that.” Lena scoffed derisively.

“I did.” Kara insisted, eyes desperate and pleading.

Lena merely shook her head, turning back to face her computer, “If you say so…”

“Lena, I-”

“Kara… I can’t…” Lena muttered, her voice cracking in the exact way she didn’t want it to. “I can’t do this. Just leave me alone.” Lena requested, hating how it verged on begging.

“What?” Kara murmured in shock.

“I can’t just… pretend that I’m not hurt or upset.” Lena confessed, fingers curling into fists on her desk, eyes slamming shut to lock in the tears. “I just need… time to get over it and accept what we are. So until then… please just leave me alone.”

“I hurt you.” Kara repeated, her voice broken and raw .

“Kara, I didn’t…” Lena shook her head angrily, she didn’t want to do this, didn’t want to inflict herself on Kara who had tried so hard to be her friend. “It's your birthday, Kara.” Lena sighed sadly, “You get to spend it anyway you like with whomever you like.”

“I wanted to spend it with you.” Kara breathed, and Lena could hear the sharp inhales between each word that revealed that Kara was crying.

“Kara, you don’t need to…” Lena assured, with a wave of her hand, eyes focused on her lap, “let’s just leave it, okay?”

“No…” Kara gasped, and suddenly Lena felt a trembling hand connect with her own tightly curled fists, “wait… what did you mean ‘get over it’ and ‘accept what we are’?”

Lena sucked in a sharp breath at the question, biting down harshly on her bottom lip.

“Lena?” Kara pressed.

“Fuck it, fine.” Lena snapped, yanking her hands away from Kara’s infinitely soft touch and shoving herself out of her chair before storming away from Kara, desperate for space. “I thought you liked me.”

“I do-” Kara began, taking a tentative step after her.

“No, Kara.” Lena yelled, spinning back to face Kara, with a twisted snarl of total self-loathing. “Liked me.” Lena stressed, before throwing her hands up into the air as it all just boiled out of her, “God, I sound like a teenager. I thought you liked me. I thought you were touching me less because you were attracted to me. But then… I go to your party and you don’t… it was like you were ashamed of me, I sat in that fucking corner for two hours as everyone wished - out loud, I should say - that I would go. I sat in that fucking corner in the hope that you would speak to me for five minutes. For just five minutes. Because that… that would have made it all worth it. But you could barely look at me. And I realised you didn’t - don’t - like me… you’re ashamed of me, but you’re too kind to abandon me. Too noble and generous but even you have your limits. Of course, you didn’t want to spend your birthday talking to me. Of course you didn’t.”

Lena wanted to punch a wall, wanted to down the rest of her whiskey, wanted to do literally anything than be here in this moment watching the horror-struck expression on Kara’s face grow and grow with every word, watch Kara’s body tremble and shake with each harsh sweeping gesture.

“Lena, no… you…” Kara sobbed, striding towards her with fingers twitching at her sides, “you have got the complete wrong end of the stick. Actually, you’re right but also really wrong. And…” Kara swiped aggressively at the tears rolling down her cheeks as she approached Lena, stopping when the raven-haired woman flinched at their sudden closeness. “I screwed up but-”

“No. You don’t need to do this.” Lena cut in, holding a hand up to stop Kara, wanting Kara to know that her guilt was unnecessary and that she could finally be free of Lena.

“Lena, I’m so-”

“You don’t need to apologise.” Lena insisted, taking a deep breath to rein back in her swirl of her emotions. She could do this. She could let Kara go. “You were trying to be kind but you shouldn’t… god, if I make you that miserable, that uncomfortable, you shouldn’t have to force yourself to interact with me.”

“LENA!” Kara bellowed, stamping her foot to the ground and lifting her chin to reveal a determined expression.

Lena blinked in shock at the sudden volume and intensity; falling obediently quiet.

Kara placed her hands on her hips, took a deep breath, looked Lena straight in the eye with earnest, beseeching blue and declared, “I want to kiss you right now because that would be the big sweeping action that would prove to you that I mean what I’m about to say next but… you’ve been drinking… heavily from the looks of things.” Kara shot a displeased pout at the nearly empty bottle of whiskey as if it was all the bottle’s fault for Lena’s current state of inebriation and not the youngest Luthor’s unhealthy coping mechanisms. Kara turned back to face a stunned Lena, with a fond smile, “And I really want our first kiss to be one you remember and one you can fully consent to. So, you’re just going to have to believe me… please, please believe me when I say… I’m in love with you and I fucked up massively tonight. Really, really fucked up.”

“You never swear.” Lena murmured quietly, and it probably wasn’t what she should have been focusing on but her brain was currently stuck like a record scratch unable to fully comprehend what Kara had just told her; and the swear was just the cherry on top of an entire sundae of confusing and out-of-the-blue revelations.

“Which shows how much I believe that I fucked up.” Kara replied with a helpless shrug.

“But-”

“You were the only person I wanted to spend my birthday with.” Kara confessed, “Well, Alex at some point as well. But you mostly. Alex planned the party and I couldn’t…” Kara huffed out a frustrated breath and rolled her eyes, “she did this whole thing and I didn’t want to turn around and say I didn’t want it. That all I really wanted was a quiet night watching films with you because…” Kara sighed, “because then she’d know… To make it more bearable I invited you but there were so many other people, and I will be honest… I don’t even like half of them. Alex, just invited everyone I was friends on facebook with which is not a good barometer of friendship.”

Lena cleared her throat, none of it making sense, “Then why-”

“Did I ignore you?” Kara guessed with a painful wince.

“Yeah…” Lena muttered, wrapping her arms protectively around herself.

“Because… because I knew, or at least I thought I knew, that you hadn’t noticed how I felt about you.” Kara explained inching just that little bit closer towards Lena, attempting to bring them within touching distance of one another. “And I knew it was only a miracle that you hadn’t until now because…” Kara smiled a lopsided, rueful and self-deprecating smile, “Lena, I am not subtle. Not at all. And I knew… I knew if I interacted with you at the party… everyone else would be able to tell in an instant how I felt.”

Lena exhaled slow and deep, arms tightening their hold around herself, “And you didn’t want them knowing you liked me?”

“Love. Not like.” Kara corrected, patient yet firm, “Love. And no, I didn’t.”

Lena nodded once in understanding, letting out a hollow laugh, “I get it. I wouldn’t want anyone to know I loved me either.”

“Lena… no… no… you…” Kara rushed to explain, finally stepping close enough to reach out and place her hands gently on Lena’s curled biceps. Lena couldn’t help how she instinctively shifted closer, wanting to increase contact with Kara after being denied it for so long. “I didn’t want anyone knowing before you.” Kara admitted.

And that… that snapped something back into place for Lena.

Made the doubts screaming inside her head quieten down just enough to think… maybe…

Because… it was being last that had broken them the first time. Being the only one not to know and now…

“I didn’t want Stacy, who used to cheat off me in exams in college to know how I felt about you before you did.” Kara said, thumbs moving back and forth against the bare skin of Lena’s arms causing a swathe of goosebumps to rise like a wave in the wake of Kara’s every touch. “They didn’t deserve that. They didn’t deserve…” Kara’s jaw clenched, eyes darkening as she studied Lena’s face, “I was trying to protect you from them. They said horrible things about you and you should know, the minute after you left, I kicked everyone who so much as looked at you funny out. It was just me, Nia, Brainy and Kelly left… Alex, as well, but we had a rather heated argument before she was allowed to stay.” Kara bowed her head in shame, “I should have kicked them all out immediately but-”

“Then they would have known.” Lena finished for her.

“I had this whole thing planned.” Kara breathed out, her hands gradually shifting away from Lena’s arms around to her back, surrounding Lena in a loose hold, Kara’s eyes flickering over Lena’s face and body rapidly searching for even the slightest sign that Lena was uncomfortable with their contact. “Once everyone left, I had set-up the roof with lights and cushions and… I was going to tell you how I felt. I just had to make it through the birthday party from hell and I was trying so hard to keep to the plan. To not spoil it. To keep it a secret so that it could just be ours but... I…” Kara’s eyes slid shut and she inhaled a shuddering breath filled with pain. “I hurt you. And there is nothing I can say to make you forgive me, but I do… I do love you so much. And I will never, ever be ashamed of you.” Kara blinked her eyes back open and leaned forward to place a kiss on Lena’s forehead. “I just wanted it to be ours and not theirs. I didn’t want to share. You’re the only thing in my life that… I didn’t want to share.”

“Open your present.” Lena demanded, stepping out of Kara’s loving embrace.

“Lena-” Kara whimpered, pained at the sudden loss of closeness.

“Open your present, Kara.” Lena repeated, jerking her chin towards the sofa where the roughly wrapped present lay.

“I… okay…” Kara replied, watching Lena closely as she tried to make sense of Lena’s clear request. Kara walked cautiously over to the couch, picking up the gift with gentle hands. “Did you wrap it yourself?” Kara asked, her entire expression brightening as she stared down at the crooked, over sellotaped wrapping.

Lena harrumphed at the question, pursing her lips.

“You did, didn’t you?” Kara teased.

“The present isn’t the piss poor wrapping.” Lena replied with an exaggerated roll of her eyes that had the corners of Kara’s lips quirking even further upwards.

“Lena Luthor wrapped my present herself…", Kara whistled in awe, blue eyes twinkling with true delight for the first time that day, "what better gift is there?”

“Open it and you might find one.” Lena said, heart leaping into her throat as Kara’s deft fingers found a line of wrapping paper she could tuck them under.

The sound of paper ripping was deafening in the stillness; all Lena could do was watch and wait.

The paper fell away leaving behind a small black box, Kara shot Lena a hesitant look and it wasn’t until Lena nodded for her to continue that Kara clicked it open.

There was a pause.

A heavy, endless pause in which Lena couldn’t bring herself to even breathe.

“What is-” Kara began before cutting off immediately as she lifted up the beautiful bracelet made of nth metal and inscribed with ‘stronger together’ in Lena’s own cursive handwriting in both english and kryptonian.

The bracelet shined under the lights in Lena’s office, but in Lena’s opinion, Kara’s eyes shined impossibly brighter.

“You’re in love with me.” Kara whispered, seeing the present for everything Lena had hoped it would convey.

“Yes.” Lena confirmed because there was no hiding it now.

With trembling fingers Kara clasped the bracelet onto her wrist, long fingers tracing the words delicately inscribed with no small amount of wonder. Finally, she turned around and stared at Lena with so much sheer love that the youngest Luthor felt overwhelmed and like her heart might burst right out of her chest in its desire to be in Kara’s possession

Clearing her throat and clasping her hands behind her back, Lena gathered her courage and asked, “If I promise you I’ll remember it and that I am fully consenting… will you kiss me now?”

Kara was in front of her in the literal blink of the eye, hands reaching out to cup Lena’s cheeks as Lena’s hands moved to rest on Kara’s hips gently encouraging their bodies closer with a light tug.

“There is nothing I want more.” Kara assured with the widest grin that Lena had ever seen and couldn’t help but return.

Their first kiss could barely count as a kiss.

Their smiles were too wide to allow for it, but Lena wouldn’t change it even slightly. They pressed their smiles against one another, teeth knocking together and noses brushing.

It may not have been a successful kiss but it was tender and filled with so much joy that Lena wouldn’t describe it as anything less than perfect.

Their second kiss was an actual kiss, lips slotting together, tongues seeking each other out and teeth tugging whimpers and moans from one another in an endless cycle.

Their second kiss turned into a third, a fourth, a fifth.

They kissed until the sun rose.

Kissed until their lips ached and any remaining doubts Lena may have had were pushed back into the shadows by the light of Kara’s smile and blue eyes.

#supercorp #supercorp fic

650 notes · View notes

celestialrry · 3 years

Text

bunny

6.3k

summary: Harry's shy and you need a tutor.

warnings: like none, cursing?, severe fluff

You rushed into class, and scrambled over to sit in your chair, huffing as the clock struck 9:00 a.m. the moment you touched the seat. Why you signed up for a morning class you knew you would never want to wake up for is beyond you. Why the class you were taking was about English literature, a genre you had only read less than 3 books in was also beyond you. Being undecided in your major didn’t have many perks, you had come to find.

“Alright class, first things first, you’ll be having a test in this class next week about what we studied this past month.”

As your professor droned on, your heartbeat started to pick up. A month into your second year of university and you already had a test? This was absolute torture. You were psyching yourself out at this point, almost positive you would fail, until you zoned back into class to hear a deep voice speaking.

The boy with the curls almost reaching his shoulders in the back of the class, Harry, you thought. He was terrifying and intimidating, but he raised his hand almost every other question and got it right. Always. He was the answer to all of your problems. The one who always wore those tattered brown Chelsea boots and long coats. You had even seen a peek of tattoos on his hand once.

The rest of class was spent thinking of ways to ask him to tutor you. So far, you would suggest to pay him for his time, do it only when he’s available (you would switch your schedule around for him, you were already going to ask a lot of him), and just try to be really nice. You always tried not to judge on looks, but Harry seemed quite scary, and you were afraid he’d turn you down immediately.

Soon class was dismissed and you grabbed your trusty bag (it had survived multiple sleepovers at Niall’s and that boy could destroy anything by just touching it) and slung it over your shoulder, looking to see Harry walking out of the classroom. You hurried over to him out of the doors and caught up to him. “Hi, um, Harry?” You asked, and he stopped in his tracks.

He looked back at you and his eyes widened. He had to look back down for a moment so you couldn’t see him flush out of surprise. He looked back up at you and smiled softly. “Hello.” Harry mumbled, adjusting the strap of his bag on his shoulder. No one really ever spoke to Harry all that much. People just never approached him and he had no idea why (his friends had tried to clue him in that he did seem a bit intimidating with his brows furrowed almost all the time, his body littered with tattoos, and the fact that he’s quite a buff guy, but you couldn’t really tell from his oversized sweaters that he seems to wear every single day, but that’s besides the point) and it confused him a bit. It also made him a bit shy around anyone he didn’t already know, because he didn't want to come off too strong at first and scare anyone away.

You smiled at him and introduced yourself before you continued to ask him what you had been dreading out of pure nerves. “Um, I know this is weird, but we’re in the same English lit class and I notice you know like, all the answers to what Mr. Reeves asks, n’I just really wanna pass this test so I was maybe wondering if you could tutor me or something? I would pay you of course-”

“You don’t-you don’t have to pay me.” He interrupted you from rambling on for too long because you tended to do that a lot, and Harry had no idea but he had just saved himself about ten minutes of time. If you were his chance at a new friend, he wouldn’t want it to start off on money, because helping a friend wouldn't be a job. “Oh!” Your mouth formed an “o” shape and your eyebrows raised at him. “Are you sure? I mean that's fucking awesome if you really don’t want money, but I would just feel so bad taking up your time without giving you anything in return.”

You prayed that he would say that you really didn’t need to pay him anything. If he meant it, it means this boy was a godsend and you would be happy spending time with this bloke if he is really that sweet all the time. You wouldn’t expect it just because he rarely ever speaks to other people. The most words you had ever heard him speak was when he was answering a question from Mr. Reeves-

“S’fine, really. If I tutor you, um, it's basically like studying m’self so...” He trailed off scratching the back of his neck, and bringing you back to Earth. You broke out into a grin and bounced a bit on your toes, because he was going to help you pass the final and you didn’t have to pay him. “Perfect! Wow, Harry, you’re an angel. Thank you so much,” You complimented him as you grabbed your phone from your back pocket and as your eyes darted away from his face for a few moments, he attempted to bite back his smile, because you were talking to him, and calling him an angel.

You pulled your pink-case covered cell and unlocked it, handing it to Harry and saying, “Here, put your contact in so I can text you about meeting up, s’that cool?” To which he nodded and took your phone gently and began typing his name and number in, and biting back his tongue when he was about to tell you he had the same phone case as you, because you probably wouldn’t care (you actually would care a very great deal, but Harry had been so used to being ignored he figured he wouldn’t muck up his one chance at a new friend). he handed your phone back to you and you just shoved it back in your pocket, the smile never leaving your face.

“Thanks again Harry, it really means a lot. I’ll text you later, yeah?” You said, slowly beginning to walk to your next class. He just offered you a small smile before continuing the way he was before you had asked him to tutor you. Why he didn’t want money was still itching at the back of your brain, mostly because when you told your best friend, Niall, about it later that night he had said “What kinda college student turns down money?” before going off into a rant about how he wished he actually knew what he was learning so he could tutor someone and get some extra cash. You reminded him he already had a job, but it seemed tutoring was “so much easier than dealing with kids whose parents didn’t give a rats-ass if they yell in the restaurant.”

｡:°ஐ

You and Harry had arranged to meet on Wednesday, because you only had one morning class as did he, and would meet in the library at 12 p.m. You don’t think you had ever been so anxious walking into a library before, but here you were, opening the double doors and swiping your student I.D. (which had a horrid picture on it, they really never tell you when they take the photo) before your eyes scanned the front part of the library you could see. It was safe to say you weren’t in the library very often, if seeing your frazzled face as you zig-zagged through the rows of bookshelves was enough to go by.

You made your way to the back, where you assumed the tables for studying and reading would be, and as you turned the corner of one of the oddly tall bookshelves, you thanked your instincts for the first time, and scanned the area until you found a certain flop of messy brown curls hunched over at a table.

“Hi Harry,” You chittered, flopping down in the seat across from him and immediately pulling out your notes and the book you had been reading for class, Pride and Prejudice. “How are you?”

For the first time, you noticed he wore glasses, when he looked up at you and pushed the clear tan frames up the bridge of his nose, a bit startled by your arrival. “M’good, you?” He asked, no emotion or tone behind his voice really. It sounded like he just wanted you to stop talking almost, but you settled on the fact that it was your nerves telling you he hated you.

“’Bout as good as I can be with teachers up my ass all week.” You said, and a small smile struck his face. You wondered what it would be like to make him laugh. Shaking your head from your thoughts, you cleared your throat and looked at your notes before back up at him. “Alright, so m’a bit confused on why Charlotte marries Collins? I mean, ignoring the fact that they’re all related, I’ve re-read it so many times but the old English they use is so confusing.”

After your question, Harry delves into the answer, not going on an extraordinarily long tangent, but a decently long one, explaining the relationship between them, and why they married when he wanted Elizabeth first, and so on. What was even better was that he explained it all so easily you understood it all (and his voice was sweeter than honey), you just kept wanting to ask more questions, so you did.

Harry was talkative when you kept asking him questions, and it seemed like he was enjoying himself, but whenever the conversation swerved into personal life, Harry shut off and became more quiet. It wasn’t like you were asking him about his family drama, the conversation had smoothly sailed into something about high school.

“I wish I read this book in high school when they gave us the chance.” You sighed, flipping through the pages to where you had put a sticky note to write down your confusion. You truly regretted not being one of those reading types, but you preferred to hear things more (like Harry’s voice), and listening to music became your ‘hobby’ instead.

“Yeah, reading it earlier makes it pretty easy now.” He shrugged, going through his own notes. “I just wasn’t much of a reader, did you read a lot in high school?” It's an innocent enough question, and after spending about 2 hours with Harry, you already knew you would want to get to know him more, but it seemed he didn’t feel the same. “A bit.” He said, tensing up. While you were mildly confused by his body language, Harry just didn’t want to talk about highschool. He read a lot, and was so in his own world he found it hard to really have many friends. He had a few loyal ones, but books would always be there, as cheesy as that was. High school wasn’t fun for anyone, he was sure of it.

“You seem like you’d read a lot, you just give off that vibe, y’know?” You said, looking at him. He lifted his gaze from his notes and you truly could not tell what he was thinking. He gave a small “hmph” in response to your question that wasn’t really a question and looked back down at his notes, gathering them all quite fast. “I think we’re good for the day, just text me if you want anymore help.” He mumbled, slinging his bag over his shoulder and rushing out of the library. You sat there with your mouth slightly open in shock at the way he left so abruptly. After a few moments you packed up your own things and practically ran after him, bursting through the double doors and trying to find him, to-you actually didn’t know what to do. You didn’t even know what happened. That’s why you found yourself on your couch with Niall as he ate all your snack food, deep in a long-winded advice session from him.

“He just ran out Niall, I don’t even know what happened, like did I say something?” You asked, picking your nails in distress, your eyes following the chip that disappeared in his mouth seconds later. “What’s this bloke’s name, again?” He asked, after chewing (Niall could be vulgar, but he wasn’t an animal). “Um, Harry. Longish brown curls, pretty green eyes, y’know? I-I don’t even know his last name.”

The blonde’s icy blue eyes widened in recognition after a moment of thinking, and he slapped your bicep gently. “Harry Styles! I’ve heard o’him. Apparently he has like two friends and never speaks, s’not hard to believe you have a thing for him, bug.” Your brow raised incredulously, and you were quick to defend yourself, and Harry. “I do not have a thing for him, and just because he doesn’t have many friends doesn’t mean he’s a-wait what do you mean it's not hard to believe?”

Niall rolled his eyes and sat up a bit more, turning to actually face you. “You like the quiet types, s’why we aren’t dating, obviously, n’I never said he was a dud, love, just tellin’ you what I heard.” You just nodded, deciding to not worry about it so much. “There’s many reasons we aren’t dating Ni.” You gave him a compassionate smile and pat his knee. The two of you then burst out into laughter and your worries about Harry faded away.

Until the next morning that is.

You had been going over the study guide Mr. Reeves had emailed everyone that morning and realized you weren’t sure about quite a few of the things you were supposed to know. Sighing, you opened your phone and clicked on Harry’s contact typing out a text.

Hey Harry! Wondering if you could meet up sometime again this weekend just to go over the study guide?

You hit send and prayed that he wouldn’t just ignore it, especially after running out last time. After looking back at the email, you heard your notification bell go off just a few minutes later.

I can do Friday at 8pm, and Sunday around 3.

A smile of relief graced your face at his quick response, no matter how short his texts were, he was still willing to help you, and you were extremely grateful. After texting him back and agreeing to meet back at the library, you went back to working on another assignment, happy that you were able to get more studying in, not about the fact that you got to see the quiet and unusually attractive Harry Styles again. That was not the reason.

｡:°ஐ

Eventually it was Friday night. Your friday nights usually consisted of Niall dragging you somewhere you did not want to be, like a frat party (he always made sure you got home safe though), or you sitting at home, watching a movie and binging on cookies that you had baked just 30 minutes prior. Tonight was different however, and you were attempting to open the doors of the library, because it was locked, but you were positive the library wasn’t closed.

A soft voice said your name, and you turned around to see Harry standing a few feet behind you, his hands in his pockets and his bag on his shoulder. “Harry,” you exhaled in relief. “I was about to text you, but it’s locked and I know for a fact it shouldn’t be closed because the hours say 7 a.m. to 10 p.m. every weekday.” You stated matter of factly, pointing to the hours painted on the door. He walked a bit closer to the door and adjusted his glasses a bit, pursing his pink lips as he read the hours. “You’re right.” he said simply, his sage eyes darting to the handle. You wordlessly stepped back and he went to the handle, pulling the door a bit, and pushing it. It moved a bit for him, but it was obvious it was locked.

Your mind raced for solutions, the only ones you were able to find was going to your flat, or wherever he lived, and you were almost positive he wouldn't want you in his house. You heard a little sigh leave his lips as he let go of the handle, and stuck his hands back in his pockets, rolling on the balls of his feet adorned with black boots today. “We could go to my place? If you’re comfortable with that of course, I won’t force you, but it’s like the only place I can think of and my roommate won’t be home tonight to distract us, something about staying the weekend at her boyfriends, but-”

“Sure.”

Your eyes fell back onto his face at his words and you gave a small smile, happy that he had agreed. “Alright, c’mon then.” You said, walking towards the direction of your flat. Only a few moments after you began taking steps he stopped you with his voice. “Wait, you walked here?” He asked, his face twisted up with something you couldn’t tell. “Yeah, m’only fifteen minutes away.” You shrugged. “It’s pitch black-um, come with me, I drove here and you can just direct me to yours.”

You just agreed and followed him to his car, which was an awfully nice black one, you weren’t sure of the brand, but as you got in, you could tell he took really good care of it (not that that was attractive to you or anything). Your words during the drive consisted of you telling him the four turns to take before directing him the best place to park in your lot. You ignored his gaze on you as you led him up the two flights of stairs to your hall, because “The elevator has been down for ages, and I’ve sent about four letters to the landlord, but all I’ve gotten in return is just unnecessary exercise for two months.”

He chuckled a bit at that and you swore your heart grew two sizes as you led him down the hall to your door. You unlocked it, and let him in, quickly walking in front to scan and make sure it wasn’t messy. You were never one to leave the house while it was dirty, but Niall had come over earlier to convince you to come to a party, and you were scared you hadn’t picked up his mess. He truly was like your child in a sense. Taking a sigh of relief at your clean flat, you turned around to see Harry closing your door and you brushed against him to lock it, you never kept your door unlocked at night.

You led him to the living room and dropped your bag on the floor next to the couch, and he did the same, pulling out your books and notes, as well as your laptop. Harry followed your actions and you could tell he was a bit uncomfortable in your flat, or at least that’s what it seemed like. “Do y’want some water or anything? I’m not sure what other drinks I have because I’m pretty sure Niall drank everything in here, and ate it probably as well.”

He looked up at your words and hesitated, bringing his bottom lip between his fingers. “Erm, I’ll have a water, please.” Now was not the time to ask about Niall or who he was to you, he told himself, because it didn’t matter. You nodded and stood up, hurrying over to your kitchen and grabbing two glasses of water for the both of you before handing one to Harry and sitting down on the couch again.

It was a bit weird at first, but soon enough the two of you slid into an easy conversation about the study guide, it was mostly you asking and Harry answering, but occasionally he would ask you something (that you were sure he already knew), and you would answer. It was a good back and forth, and you found yourself thinking about how it would be nice to talk to Harry like this about himself. You wanted to know everything, his favorite color down to the weird little quirks he has (you’ve already picked up on one, like when he itches the bottom of his nose with a curled index finger and slides it to the button of his nose before scrunching it).

“We’ve been studying for about two hours,” You noticed, looking at the time on your computer screen reading 10:03 PM. “I’ve just about filled my brain with enough information about fictional characters for today.”

You looked over at Harry to see him grinning a bit at your joke, and for the first time you noticed he had dimples. You were positive there was nothing wrong with him, other than the fact that he didn’t seem to want to be your friend (it wasn’t his fault, you could be a bit too much for people sometimes). “Okay, I should probably get back home to Luna anyways.” He said, his offhand comment filling your brain. Luna? You prayed you haven’t been taking his time away from a girlfriend, and before your brain could catch up your mouth was already moving. “Oh, who’s Luna?”

Harry looked at you like he forgot he mentioned her and his eyes widened a bit. “Oh, um, she’s m’kitten.” A wave of relief rushed over you, as well as another reason to want to get to know him more. A man so intimidating people didn’t approach him, had a kitten? Harry was flushing out of embarrassment of telling you this little fact, and looking down as he put his things in his bag to avoid eye contact with you, you did not care about his kitten, and you were indirectly telling him to leave, he didn't think he ever hated speaking more.

“That’s such a cute name!”You exclaimed. “Do you have any photos of her? It’s okay if you don’t want to show but I love cats, always wanted t’get my own.”

Nevermind.

30 minutes later, and he was sitting next to you awfully close on the couch, showing you his photo album of Luna. Some of the photos had Harry in them, one in particular, a mirror picture, where he was wearing sweats and had chosen to go without a shirt, holding Luna in one hand by his side. He swiped off of that one with lighting speed, and although you were telling yourself he obviously was embarrassed by you seeing his bare torso, which he shouldn’t be because wow, you couldn’t help your curiosity. “How many tattoos do y’have?”

He moved his head to face you, and only then did he realize how close the two of you were sitting. “Uh, I don’t know, fifty-something? I lost count a while ago.” Your eyes lit up at his words and a grin spread across your face. “Wow, that's so cool. Did it hurt a lot? I’ve always wanted to get a tattoo but I have no idea what, and where. I thought a small little butterfly on my ribs or something would be cute for a good year, but I don’t have much connection to butterflies really, and I feel like if I get something tattooed on your body for forever I would want something that really sticks with me.”

He couldn’t help it.

As you watched Harry while you were rambling on about tattoos you could see him smile. Truly smile, one where his teeth showed and everything. You tried not to get too giddy about it, but it was just so beautiful. “It started hurting less the more I got, and tattoos don’t have t’be something y’really connect with, I have a bunch jus’ because I thought they looked cool and had a decent meaning,” He said, and you were positive that’s the most he’s ever spoken to you. “I actually have a butterfly on m’tummy.”

“What other one’s do you have?” You asked, attempting to get him to talk as much as he could.

It worked, because soon the 30 minutes became an hour, and the hour became two, and he was in your flat at midnight. It seemed the two of you had no idea how much time had passed, because when you checked your phone it said it was five past midnight, and you reluctantly told Harry.

“Shit!” He muttered, and that was the first time you’ve heard him curse before. He looked at you, concern taking over his features. “M’so sorry for staying so long, I didn’t want to impose, I-”

“Harry, it’s okay, I promise. If I didn’t want you here, I would've told you to leave.” You said, and that seemed to calm him down a bit. “I’ll walk you down.”

You slipped on your coat and grabbed your keys, while Harry grabbed his tote and the two of you made your way down the stairs, this time a comfortable silence overtaking the stairwell. You reached his car and smiled at him as he unlocked it. “Thank you Harry, for everything, m’sure after Sunday I’ll be aces at analyzing characters.”

He smiled at you and fiddled with his sleeve before stepping closer and wrapping his arms around you. You were surprised to say the least, but your arms found their way around him as well and you reveled in his warmth. He stepped back after a moment and let his hands slide down your arms before bringing them back to his sides. “M’sorry, I should’ve-I just-you’re so nice n’I just-thank you.”

You couldn’t help but watch him try to stay afloat as he struggled to explain the hug. He really felt like he did though, because you were just so sweet, possibly the sweetest person he’s ever met, and you wanted to know about him, and his tattoos, and his kitten, and he doesn’t think he’s ever wanted to be with anyone for a hours on end, but he’s already decided that he’d want to be trapped in a room with you for days.

“No need to thank me, get home safe okay?” You smiled at him, reaching out and squeezing his arm and holy shit he’s fit. He looked down at your hand for a moment before smiling big and nodding, parting with a “G’night, I’ll see you Sunday.” before hopping into his car and insisting you walk up first. Rolling your eyes you smirked a bit and started walking up your stairs, turning around and waving at him before he sped off. That was quite possibly the best Friday night you’ve ever had.

｡:°ஐ

Harry was reeling, in the best way possible, but still reeling. After you got together to study on Sunday (and after you both aced the test, which you had given him the largest hug and a kiss on the cheek for), the two of you had hung out almost everyday after.

You met Luna during that following week, and he was expecting her to stay in his bedroom, because Luna didn’t really like new guests all that much, but she had immediately scurried up to you and walked in figure-eights around your feet. Your giggle of excitement was the best thing Harry had ever heard, and he had to take a moment not to squeal out of adoration.

He had opened up to you about, well, a lot. Told you how people just didn’t approach him, which was why he was so off-put when you did, and that he just didn’t want to scare anyone away. You shook your head and sat closer to him on the couch, lifting your hands to pinch his cheeks and pout as you said that he was “the sweetest person” you knew and you had “no idea how anyone could be scared of such a softie.” It was safe to say his face was flushed the entire conversation.

You had also commented on his sweater collection once, and everytime you would shiver, he’d pull off his own sweater and give it to you to wear, even in the courtyard when the weather was reaching 30 degrees. You had refused due to the fact that he would be cold, and eventually he just gave you a sweater you had expressed your liking for. He had handed it to you and you frowned in confusion and said, “Did you bring that just for me?”, because he was already wearing his own, and he had nodded and once you put it on he mumbled, “Keep it.” You did.

It got to the point where the two of you had spent so much time together you introduced him to Niall, to which Niall had commented, “So this is the Harry bloke you’ve been talking about all the time. Nice to meet ya, mate. So, how did you grow your hair out so long?” You had hit his shoulder for embarrassing you, but it seemed Harry didn’t even skip a beat when he started talking about how he had decided to grow his hair out. It was a story you’d heard before, but with Harry speaking, you would listen to the same words over and over again.

When you each went home for winter break, Harry had hugged you tightly and kissed your cheek, telling you that it was only 2 weeks, and the both of you would be back before you knew it. When the two of you weren’t texting, you were calling each other, and he was right, because you had both gotten back yesterday, a day full of hugs of goodbye’s from families, and full of cheek and forehead kisses, along with hugs and cuddles from Harry. You teased him about the gift, a book you had told him was the only one you wanted to read, he mailed you, and he teased you about his gift, a sweater with a hand-stitched (by you) small little moon where the left breast was, for Luna, and posters of his favorite artists, because he didn’t have anything on his walls.

Today was a day of “movies and cookies, it rhymes” as Harry had put it, and you had just knocked on his door, adorned with the sweater he gave you and some sweats. He opened the door almost immediately, a large smile on his face as he brought you in and gave you a large hug, to which you returned. “Missed you.” He mumbled into your shoulder. “I saw you yesterday, dimples.” You said, squeezing him before letting go and poking the indent in his cheek that just got deeper. “I told you I hate that nickname, bunny.” He smirked. “Oh, shove off.” You smiled, making your way to his living room where Luna was curled up on the couch on the right side, close enough to the end that no one could sit there, but close enough to the middle that practically half of his couch was taken.

“Don’t move her,” He said, walking up beside you. “She’s been crazy all day and she's finally relaxing, little devil.” You just shrugged and looked at the cookies he had already set out. “As long as I get these, I don’t mind where she is.”

The two of you settled next to each other on the couch as he chose an old horror movie that you begged not to watch but according to Harry, “S’not even scary, pet. Nothing is realistic, swear.” You just grumbled in defeat as he started to play it and just stuffed cookies into your mouth as you fell against the back of the couch.

Half an hour later, and your head was tucked in Harry’s chest, while your legs fell over his own. His hand was splayed across your back, rubbing up and down gently and mumbled “It’s okay”’s and “I’ve got you”’s while you peeked out to see the giant ant’s taking over. He really couldn’t believe it, you of all people were in his arms at night. He wished it could be every night, and when he heard your breathing slow down he suddenly took it back.

What the hell was he supposed to do?

You hadn’t planned on sleeping over, but just the other day were you complaining about not getting enough sleep because of your “stupid Philosophy professor”, and there was no way in hell Harry was going to wake you up. He hesitated for a moment, before turning off the T.V. because in the time he was deciding on what to do the movie had long stopped playing, and wrapped his other arm under your knees, gently picking you up and taking you to his bed.

He laid you down and tucked you under the covers, grabbing a pillow for himself before making his way to the couch for the night. He made sure to set an alarm to wake up before you did, and make you breakfast.

When you opened your eyes, the last thing you were expected to be met with was a white ceiling with a sleek silver fan nailed in. You sat up groggily, looking around the room to recognize it as Harry’s room. You had only been in here a few times, mostly to scavenge his closet, but you knew his room when you saw it. You swung your legs out of bed, and slowly made your way to the living room, where you were met with a sleeping Harry, spread out on the couch in his sweats, without a shirt. You tried not to linger your gaze on all his tattoos and abs as you walked by him to check the time on your phone. Almost 9 a.m., and by the vibrating phone next to yours, with the same case, you could tell he meant to set an alarm but forgot to turn his ringer on.

He had an alarm set for something, and he never told you what he was doing this morning, so you decided you would wake him up, just in case. You grabbed his shoulder gently, and tried not to think about how warm he was, shaking him gently and calling his name. “Harry…” You said in a sing-songy voice a few times. He pouted in his sleep and grunted a bit, before scrunching his eyes open. He practically jumped back when he saw you and his head fell back against the arm of the couch. Of course he wouldn’t wake up before you. “Morning.” You grinned. “G’morning. M’sorry if you were confused when y’woke up. I just brought y’to my bed cause you fell asleep, n’I was gonna wake up before you but obviously that didn’t work out.”

You just shook your head and smiled, trying not to think about his morning voice. There were a lot of things you had to try not to think about with Harry. “No worries, wanna go grab breakfast at the diner down the street? Heard they have killer hashbrowns.”

And all thanks to you, Harry wonders what he had to worry about in the first place.

After breakfast, you went back to your place, Harry in your living room while you got dressed for the day, changing your sweats to jeans and slipping back out of your room. “Alright, what’s the plan?” You asked, tugging the sleeves of his sweater down to make paws. It wasn’t like Harry hadn’t seen you with his sweater on, but it seemed to make him more flustered everytime you did wear it. He shrugged and looked you up and down quickly. “I like your sweater, where’d y’get it?” He joked, in an attempt to mask his blush.

“From this really cute guy, he just gave it to me one day.” You shrugged, and watched as he bit his bottom lip in an attempt not to smile too much. “Really cute?” He asked as you stepped closer to him. “Mhm, his name is Harry.”

“Please stop.” He said, and you stepped back, confused by his sudden change in emotion. “I’m just joking, Harry.” You said, attempting to save the moment. His bottom lip trembled and he sat down on your couch, his head falling in his hands. “I know, n’I don’t want you t’be.” He mumbled as you sat next to him. He pulled his head out of his hands and looked at you, his heart beating faster than it ever has.

“I really like you, bunny. And I don’t wanna ruin our friendship because you’re the best thing that's happened to me in a really long time, but I cant- I can’t listen to you joke about how you think I’m cute if y’don’t feel the same.”

You swear your heart bursted at his confession. A smile overtook your face and you moved so you were right next to him. You placed your hands on the sides on his face and kissed his nose. “You think I don’t feel the same? For someone so smart, m’surprised you haven’t realized it before,” you said softly, as he looked at you in wonder and shock. “I really like you too.” You leaned in and placed your lips on his, about to pull back when he didn’t respond. He then began to kiss you back and his hands found a home on your hips. When the two of you pulled away, he smiled like a fool and pecked your lips once more.

There was never anything to worry about with you, he was sure of it.

#would you believe me if I told you this took 4 days to write #harry styles imagine #harry styles #harry styles fluff #harry styles one shot

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postmodernmulticoloredcloak · 3 years

Text

The shifting narrative of God’s interventism and how it reflects on the narrative on John

This post will ignore the issue authorial intent entirely because I can, but it’s also about authorial intent in a way, but I also don’t like to talk about things as happening “accidentally” because a) a serialized story like Supernatural, especially one that got renewed for much longer than anyone could possibly expect or hope in their wildest ambitions, structurally relies on serendipity, because that’s how stories work when they’re work in progress, b) a television show is an extremely multi-authored text and the chance that something happens out of the intent of any of the multiple layers of creators is kind of... statistically negligible. So, yeah, that’s my stance on the topic. Anyway.

The shifting narrative about God is simultaneously something that hangs on fortunate storytelling clicks on an essentially programmed narrative. At first, we don’t know where the fuck God is. Cas starts looking for him with little success. Raphael says he’s dead, Cas doesn’t believe it. Dean relates to his struggle because he knows the feeling of not knowing where the fuck your father is and going looking for him with little success, not knowing if he’s even alive. Then the theory that gets assumed as the truth is that God has left. He fucked off who knows where, who knows why, leaving his creation to struggle alone. Also essentially how Dean had felt after John had died; in that case there was guilt for his demon deal and everything, but the most cruel weight on Dean’s shoulder was that John left him alone to struggle with his devastatingly horrific instructions he doesn’t understand. The angels are also left with horrific instructions they don’t understand. No wonder Cas does his own ‘demon deal’ in season 6, as he desperately tries to do what he assumes his father wants from him, but he doesn’t actually know what that is.

“God has left” is maddening, and everyone is angry about it, but it has its own dignity. God has left us without clear instructions, we are confused and in pain and evil runs amock but at least, we suppose, the evil of it is our own doing. We are alone and we do our best, our best is simply not enough. We wish he gave us guidance, but he won’t. He wants us to figure it out ourselves, possibly. We don’t actually know what he wants. But maybe that’s the point. It’s possible he doesn’t even know what’s happening, he just has left the building entirely.

But then Chuck reveals himself. We find out that he never actually left. He was there. “I like front row seats. You know, I figured I’d hide out in plain sight”. He simply chooses not to intervene. He chooses not to answer. He chooses to be hands-off. He presents himself as a laissez-faire parent, because, he says, it’s better for his children to have the responsibility they need to grow up. He’s absent, but in a different way than we thought! It’s not that he doesn’t know what’s happening or isn’t interested in knowing what’s happening. He’s here, he knows what’s happening, he just stays there and watches as you stumble and struggle and scream. It’s worse, and it pains Dean so much he isn’t even afraid to yell at God. You know we’re suffering and you just don’t give us any support, any comfort.

You’re frustrated. I get it. Believe me, I was hands-on, real hands-on, for, wow, ages. I was so sure if I kept stepping in, teaching, punishing, that these beautiful creatures that I created... would grow up. But it only stayed the same. And I saw that I needed to step away and let my baby find its way. Being overinvolved is no longer parenting. It’s enabling.

But it didn’t get better.

Well, I’ve been mulling it over. And from where I sit, I think it has.

Well, from where I sit, it feels like you left us and you’re trying to justify it.

I know you had a complicated upbringing, Dean, but don’t confuse me with your dad.

At that point of the show, the writing team almost certainly didn’t have the s14-15 twist in mind. So this was probably intended to be Chuck’s truth. Later it gets twisted (retconned?) into a lie, but about that later.

Here, Chuck is really good at manipulating the conversation. Dean has a perfectly valid point, because there IS a middle ground between being overinvolved and not being involved at all. There is a middle ground between enabling your children and abandoning them completely. But Chuck hits Dean where it hurts, plays the emotional card, basically tells him that he’s too emotional to understand, too emotional to think rationally about it, because he mixes his feelings about his father to the issue and thus cannot see it clearly. He basically tells him he’s too close to it to get it. You don’t understand parenting, Dean, because you’re too blinded by your emotions about your own little life and cannot see the big picture.

It doesn’t really matter here if he’s telling the truth or lying, it already says a lot about Chuck that he’s emotionally manipulating Dean, silencing him by hitting the painful spot.

But the thing is, 11.20 immediately presents Chuck as a liar. He makes Metatron read his autobiography and the very first line is a lie (“In the beginning, there was me. Boom – detail. And what a grabber. I mean, I’m hooked, and I was there.” “I’m hooked too, and yet... details. You weren’t alone in the beginning. Your sister was with you.”) and the stuff he talks about his experience as Chuck is not exactly truthful about anything (“That, you know, makes you seem like a really grounded, likable person.” “Yeah, what’s wrong with that?” “You are neither grounded nor a person!”). Metatron calls him out (“Okay. There are two types of memoir. One is honest... the other, not so much. Truth and fairy tale. Now, do you want to write Life by Keith Richards? Or do you want to write Wouldn’t It Be Nice by Brian Wilson?”). Chuck SAYS he chooses truth and gives Metatron a different manuscript, supposedly containing the truth, to which Metatron reacts positively. Metatron believes it, and we believe it with him.

Oh! Oh, this! This is what I was talking about. Chapter Ten “Why I Never Answer Prayers, and You Should Be Glad I Don’t”, and Chapter Eleven “The Truth About Divine Intervention and Why I Avoid It At All Costs”.

Nature? Divine. Human nature – toxic.

They do like blowing stuff up.

Yeah. And the worst part – they do it in my name. And then they come crying to me, asking me to forgive, to fix things. Never taking any responsibility.

What about your responsibility?

I took responsibility... by leaving. At a certain point, training wheels got to come off. No one likes a helicopter parent.

This is sort of what he later says to Dean, except that to Dean he talks about “beautiful creatures” “my baby”, talks about helping, none of the harsh tone he’s using here. When Metatron accuses him of hiding from Amara, he retorts “I am not hiding. I am just done watching my experiments’ failures”. What a different language, uh? Then Metatron asks him why he abandoned them, and Chuck answers “Because you disappointed me. You all disappointed me”. Then, he admits he lied about “learning” to play the guitar and so on, because he just gave himself the ability, and then appears to Dean and Sam, after Metatron’s passionate speech about humanity.

So, no matter the authorial intent at the time - the truthiness of Chuck’s words was already ambiguous. He kept lying and being called out, or silencing the conversation with some good ol’ gaslighting.

The season 14 finale introduces the big twist: it was, indeed, all a lie. The whole of it. Chuck didn’t abandon shit. It was all him, minutely controlling the narrative of the universe, putting the characters through all the pain and struggles for his own amusement.

The “absent father” narrative was a lie.

What does this tell us about John? Nothing, according to the authorial intent that shines through Dabb’s Lebanon. But we don’t give a crap about Dabb’s authorial intent about John! He’s just one dude and plenty of other authors have painted a different picture. So I’m going to read the narrative the way I want, because I can, and the narrative allows me to. It’s all there.

I’m suggesting that the fact that Chuck lied when he talked about being a hands-off/absentee father parallels how Dean and Sam prefer to think of their father as an “absent father” when that’s not exactly a reflection of the truth.

You left us. Alone. ‘Cause Dad was just a shell. [...] And I-I had to be more than just a brother. I had to be a father and I had to be a mother, to keep him safe.

Setting aside how “I had to be a father and I had to be a mother” sort of retcons and cleans up the Winchester family picture painted by ealier seasons, the fact that John didn’t really count as a functional father figure and Dean and Sam were essentually alone is not incorrect or anything. It is true that John would leave them to their own devices a lot, thus the long stays in motels, the hunger, the food-stealing, and all. But John wasn’t always absent, at all. He trained them as soldiers, he disciplined them, he was around enough for them to be intimately familiar with what happened when he drank. He drove them around.

It’s almost like it’s preferable to Dean and Sam to spin their own “absent father” narrative, putting the accent on the time they spent alone, painting their childhood as a time they had to grow up on their own, rather than acknowledge they grew up under the thumb of a controlling, looming figure they would regularly live in fear of, even when he was not physically present.

The “absent father” narrative is what Dean and Sam need to use to avoid confronting the reality of the father figure whose moods and whims they had to dance around. “I know things got dicey... you know, with Dad... the way he was. And I just... I didn’t always look out for you the way that I should have. I mean, I had my own stuff, you know. In order to keep the peace, probably looked like I took his side quite a bit.”

John shaped their lives. He shaped their identities. Even in the episodes where he abandons Dean or both children somewhere, he’s portrayed as the figure who drives the car. He symbolically drives the car, you know? John shaped Dean and Sam’s relationship with each other, both on a surface level (the conflicts) and on a deeper level (the parental dynamic).

Heck. The entire first season of the show plays on John’s disappearance as the “elephant in the room”. John is there by not being there, you know? And after he dies, his death - his absence - is again the elephant in the room for Dean, the weight on his psyche that he shatters under.

It is not wrong that Dean and Sam had to spend long periods of time without John. But John structured their lives in quite minute detail. Where they needed to be, what they needed to do, what they must not do, everything had to follow John’s instructions. A drill sergeant, the narrative called him, ordering how his sons needed to live their lives. That’s no absence, except on a level where Chuck not showing himself and pretending he’s not there can be considered absent. That’s a presence, not necessarily always physical, but semiotical and psychological.

John is an absent father as much as Chuck is a hands-off god. He even writes himself into the story around the time Cas has the “season 1” phase (let’s go look for dad/let’s go look for god), which is when John actually was alive and appeared. Then he was no longer physically there, but he was still shaping his characters’ lives, just like he’d always done.

The “absent father” narrative on John is that - a narrative. Spun by the characters themselves because it’s easier and actually kinder on John. Or, better, it allows them not to be crushed by the psychological implications of having to accept that their father was such a looming, minutely formative figure in their lives. They know, but they can wave the “absent father” idea around to avoid thinking about it.

“I had to be a father and I had to be a mother” is something easier to tell yourself. I was the one who did it all. But he wasn’t, and that’s the problem. The fact that John was their father - Dean’s and Sam’s - is the problem. But ironically, blaming himself for every failure is a better option for Dean than fully acknowledging John’s abuse. As long as he blames himself, he has control over it. The moment he acknowledges the extent of John’s influence, he loses control over the entire narrative of his own identity and the family identity, the family dynamics. That’s scarier, just like realizing that God manipulated everything is much scarier than the alternative. “God abandoned us” was indeed a better option, and “John left us alone” was a better option. But neither was true, and the characters faced the implications of the cosmic level, but never got to face the implication of the familial level, because the narrative always danced around it and then Dabb’s apologist version “won”.

But what’s been put in the show is still there. The narrative of John’s abuse is still there. Nothing can take it out of the story.

#my spn thoughts #spn meta #dean and john #dean and sam and john #dean and chuck #dean and god #spn 11x20 #spn 11x21 #spn 14x20 #spn 12x22 #et alii #spn #long post

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in-tua-deep · 3 years

Note

Are you into my hero academia? What about an AU or crossover with tua?

UHHHH I am technically, like, peripherally? I watched some seasons of the show like two or three years ago and since then have simply absorbed all content through osmosis, reading fanfiction that has canon events, and my sister telling me about the arcs of her fav characters lmao

so a crossover hmmm

First of all you'd have to like, establish whether bnha is an alternate universe or just The Future If No Apocalypse with quirks being traced back to the descendants of the kids born without mothers

So let's say it's that - the glowing baby was the "first quirk" but the truth is people had powers before that. But - well, the Umbrella Academy was obviously a marketing gimmick to those in the future! There were even comics based on them

In the future, you might find some of those comics in museum exhibits dedicated to depictions of powers in the pre-quirk era, but they're just fun depictions and much less popular than, oh, DC or MCU comics which are also in the exhibits!

End of s2 doesn't happen I guess in this au?? No sparrow academy at least lmao. So, the Umbrella Academy stop the apocalypse (again) and the Commission threat is? Neutralized? Whatever. They decide to jump back to the future

Five warns them that time travel is a crapshoot, that he has no fucking idea when they'll land beyond some nebulous "future" because Five can at least control the direction if not exactly how long

Also, Five is like. Super tired. Incredibly tired. Homeboy still has a healing gut wound, time traveled twice, has been jumping all over the place, gotten even more injured, experienced paradox psychosis, and managed to undo time all in the space of like, two weeks. There actually more than that but we don't have time to get into how fucking tired Five is from his ~Month of Hell

Like genuinely this is like putting someone almost delirious from lack of sleep in the driver's seat of a car and expecting to get to your destination in one piece

But hey, the siblings are like "do it uwu" and Five has sacrificed everything for them already so why not get behind the wheel again

So Five jumps them, and of course something goes wrong because Five has pushed his powers like a great big rubber band and honestly it was only a matter of time before he lost his grip and it snapped back to hit him

So here be the umbrella academy: spilled out into the future like a cup of bad coffee.

Five probably isn't in too good of shape tbh, like they're hundreds of years in the future (but hey at least confirmation of no apocalypse am I right) in a world full of superpowers and Five is like. bleeding from his ears and nose probably idk

Let's handwave a little bit - Reginald made them all polyglots so the squad all speak varying levels of Japanese. Allison is the best at it, Five is second best but tends to use more archaic words bc he had missions in Japan back when he was with the commission, and Klaus is third best.

(Ben is the worst bc he decided when he was 16-and-dead that he didn't have to do anything regarding lessons and maintenance and hasn't given a shit since - but also he's dead so)

So you have a bunch of weird adults with a bleeding child in like, an alley who have appeared from nowhere

so of course heroes get involved

Anyway, the squad get taken in and Five is conscious but like, barely? And he's not going to let himself get separated from his siblings again fuck-you-officer and there is a lot of confusion

anyway detective tsukauchi ends up getting involved and ends up having to hear this batshit story and be like "...truth." which sends all kinds of people scrambling because fucking time travel? Like yeah, it's been theorized to be a possible quirk but there's no recorded cases of any sort of time travel that is for more than 24 hours let alone hundreds of years

"I'm an adult." Five says sourly, "I just happened to be returned to my 13 year old body when I time traveled one time."

"True." Tsukauchi says, feeling his soul leave his body, but like. absently. the way he does when he's called in at 2am after getting off of work at midnight.

"I'm 58." Five says.

"Lie." Tsukauchi says, because this is a headcanon hill I will die on.

"I'm probably 58, but it was hard to keep track. I'm at least 50." Five corrects.

"True." Tsukauchi sighs like these six (seven? they keep referring to another sibling and Klaus said 'ghost' like that was fine and it registered as true and Tsukauchi is not nearly paid enough for this) are not giving him a migraine by just existing

on the bright side there's like, probably protocols in place for individuals who are Legally Chronologically Adults but thanks to quirks are Not Physically Or Not Mentally Adults with tests to determine if the individual needs a guardian or not

though i'm gonna be honest idk if Five would pass the test bc he literally cannot take care of himself at all, has never paid taxes or understands how to exist legally, and also his emotional maturity is stunted as all hell. also like. we don't actually know how much being in his thirteen-year-old body affects his mental state but yeAH Five is vibing

anyway Tsukauchi probably phones a friend on this bullshit because Time Travel Child alone is probably enough for the Hero Commission to be like "find a way to control and use it or nuke it from orbit" and that's not even touching whatever the fuck Klaus is doing (shit gets real once 'dead men tell no tales' stops being true) let ALONE Allison's whole deal

on the bright side like, at least Vanya isn't getting side-eyed that much bc Big Destructive Quirks aren't exactly unknown? if vanya wanted to i guess quirk suppressors exist for that until extensive training on how to control a super powerful quirk happens

Tsukauchi in the group chat: Aizawa please I am literally begging you to take this bullshit on

Aizawa: in this economy? with my class?

RatGod: lol we'll take them ;3c

Aizawa: no

Anyway they probably end up having to live at UA while Five insists on trying to get them home still and everyone else is like "oh hey we used to be child soldiers as well! (:" and Aizawa is like "i hate everything about this and everything about all of you but also like nedzu is making me interact with you so :/"

nedzu is out here vibing like "lol i just don't want the hero commission to get their little paws on these time traveling fuckers, i think you should make then teaching assistants or something"

honestly the siblings are probably like. figuring out how to function in the bnha universe and getting like, legally registered and stuff while Five ferally refuses bc that's like saying he's giving up on getting them home and he can do this

Recovery girl tries to heal him a little when he arrives and he passes out for two weeks like, immediately bc homeboy is running on fumes and spite at this point

also i think on principle it would be REALLY FUNNY if the squad got to tag along with the class bc like. Five is thirteen and the class are all 15. this does not sound like a large age gap. anyone who has interacted with teenagers know that the class would squint at Five and be like "who is this sassy lost middle schooler."

I feel like when I was a sophomore we were still like "freshman... babie" even though we were literally only one year older.

i think the difference between the umbrella academy and school kids would be pretty funny like. objectively the bnha kids are lowkey child soldiers?? like they're 15 and fighting villains but like, there's all this red tape and laws and stuff but,,, deku still be breaking his limbs in a child fighting ring against equally superpowered children for like. entertainment and sponsorships sooo

but also like Five would be like "oh cool when is the experimentation class"

"the what"

"you know, when your powers are pushed real hard by putting you in different terrible situations while your dad and sibling stand by with clipboards writing down the exact voltage it takes before you can't use your powers anymore when being electrocuted"

"hound dog's office is right there. therapy is available to you at any time. i need you to know this."

all might calls Luther "my boy" like one (1) time and Luther just breaks down crying probably because he is starved for positive attention

klaus and midnight get along like a literal house on fire, aizawa tried his best to keep them apart for as long as possible but god damn

(klaus: your name is shimura nana??

all might: immediately dies choking on blood)

i feel it absolutely necessary to point out that aizawa, present mic, and midnight are all like, 30? and the umbrella academy are all between 29-early 30s? they are PEERS but like. the umbrella academy are more chaotic due to childhood trauma

the umbrella academy probably get offered to like. also train to be heroes. i mean,, there HAS to be some sort of track for people who change careers right?? you don't have to cement your future as a hero when you're 15 i'm sure there must be something and the squad already have experience if they want to go be legal heroes

diego probably does at least?? diego just vibes honestly. diego gets momo to make knives during a team exercise and they just go feral on everyone else and it ends with diego highfiving momo and someone getting way to close to being stabbed for comfort

Five might just be. legally enrolled as an Actual Student? But also i think it's funny to picture the entire squad just. all in the back of the classroom with luther trying to fit into a high school desk as they take notes on the laws of The Future surrounding heroics

every word out of the umbrella academy's mouths just make everyone more concerned on principal but like, five and klaus are probably the worst offenders. Klaus just says whatever comes to mind with no filter and Five doesn't get what people would consider to be abnormal anymore like

Five: yeah our dad bought us when we were babies and experimented on us throughout our childhood in order to make an elite team of child soldiers superheroes, it happens

Todoroki: ...have you heard of quirk marriages?

izuku probably has an aneurism bc he's is the only person who might recognize them from the comics because you know ya boy extensively researched the idea of heroics in pre-quirk eras (batman was an inspiration alright???) and might dredge up a memory of a less popular comic series

Five: I can time travel but it is very hard, which is why we are hundreds of years in the future. And why I look like a child.

Kaminari: so are you a kid or not?

Five, serenely: whatever is most convenient for me at any given moment

Mina: hell yeah game the system

they have a brief lesson on astronomy and Luther raises his hand like "ooh! i was isolated on the moon for four years and did SO MUCH research" and then just gets up and starts infodumping like way too much information on the moon

Izuku sitting there like "damn if quirks hadn't popped up we could have achieved so much in terms of space travel. please tell me more giant man who lived in pre-quirk era."

Vanya finds out about the quirkless and is like "oh mood that genuinely sounds like my childhood, being ordinary in a house full of extraordinary people, and then i found out that i did have powers but only much later in life after i had already been emotionally scarred by the experience"

deku: vanya we have so much in common

iida and uraraka: concerned noises

aizawa: hound dog. therapy with hound dog for all of you.

there's probably some conflict with like, the hero commission wanting to get their hands on the time travelers?? but probably especially five and klaus as a) time travel and b) ghosts (the hc def has bodies they would like to stay buried)

five has a pavlovian reaction to anything with 'commission' in the name and hates them on site, probably plays into his age in order to become a ward of UA or something to protect him from the commission a little bit.

(this makes nedzu Five's legal guardian. aizawa has his resignation papers all prepped in a drawer marked 'in case of emergency' but let's be real, if nedzu wants to take over the world aizawa should probably be on the rat-bear's side of things :/)

five: ah, i do recall the inhumane experimentation that we were subjected to

nedzu, who was experimented on: haha same hat! want me to dig up the location of reginald hargreeves's remains so you can spit on them?

klaus: nah no worries we dumped them out in the courtyard unceremoniously like, a while back. how long ago varies for each of us because of time travel!

luther: you said hound dog's office was down the hall and to the right?

on the bright side, Luther probably feels like. way less self conscious about his body, partially bc of his fighting and all that in the 60s but also bc !! now he genuinely doesn't feel like a freak. no one even gives him a second glance. one of the teachers looks like a slab of cement with a face. gang orca looks Like That. there is literally a student with an entire bird head and goth aesthetic. Luther does not stick out at all

allison and shinso bond over having "villainous" voice-based quirks

allison and shinso having worn muzzles at some point in their youth as punishment 🤝

aizawa probably helps train vanya as well with the whole, being able to erase a world ending quirk safely thing he's got going on which makes for a very nice safety net

i don't think vanya would want to be a hero at the end of things though. maybe the assistant teacher in the music class or something?? all vanya wants is to be able to not end the world

i feel like as time goes by, five brings up trying to get home less and less. part of that is because like,,, genuinely what do they have to go back to?? Allison has Claire, but like. I'm 100% sure the first thing she did in the future was try track down Claire's records and found out Claire was like. fine. became an adult, had a family, probably became the ancestor of the first "quirked" kids who officially popped up after light baby. had a good life, died at an old age etc. etc.

they start settling into the bnha world with like, "we can always hop aboard the five express into where the fuck ever" as a plan Z if things go completely pear shaped (again)

i'mma be real, five himself doesn't give a fuck as long as there is a) no apocalypse and b) his family is alive. Like that's it. His bar is so incredibly low and yet his life keeps fucking trying to limbo under it

i just think it would be funny to have like, Five trying to get along with his "peers" and make friends while the siblings do the same but like, in the staff room

also think it would be funny for five to just walk into the staff room and get coffee occasionally.

a teacher: why is a student in here -

Five, sipping coffee: i'm an adult

nedzu like "what kind of guardian would i be if i didn't teach my new son all the tunnels around ua so he can pop out wherever"

five like "hey new dad can i put stashes of supplies all around ua of weapons, money, food, and other assorted things that might be useful if one needed to fight or make a run for it" and nedzu is like "haha just put your list of what supplies you want in your go bags on my desk and i'll critique it later!"

anyway a bnha/tua crossover would be incredibly chaotic but probably very funny

#long post #far tua long #tua bnha crossover #what kind of disaster is this #there are so many characters in bnha to even consider #there is no more apocalypse so five either chills the fuck out or his paranoia ramps up to an eleven #or both!#five teleporting into nedzu's office like: hey i wrote a 52 page potential contingency plan for if x happens #and nedzu is like 'wonderful!' and gives it back to five the next day with corrections and critiques in red ink #klaus ben and ghost!nana get along like a house on fire even if she keeps telling klaus that he's too skinny #ben: klaus is an absolute fucking idiot with zero braincells #nana nodding sagely while looking at all might: ah yes i know the exact type #diego and snipe become absolute bros like ride or die because why not #luther gets positive reinforcement and goes to therapy #also thirteen listens patiently to luther infodumping about space because i think that would be nice #five is either like 'i'm only thirteen uwu' or 'i'm fifty eight' and there is nothing in between - only what is most convenient #i feel like kaminari and mina vibe with five's brand of chaos #iida doesn't know whether to murder five for being a gremlin and disobeying so many rules or to be respectful bc five is technically old #aizawa is SO TIRED y'all #aizawa thinks vanya is going to be the good hargreeves but PSYCHE all the hargreeves are equally chaotic in different ways #five calls nedzu 'dad' for the sole reason that it makes every teacher and/or hero in earshot cringe in automatic fear #klaus also calls nedzu dad because he just thinks it's funny #five and nedzu have similar coping mechanisms so they vibe but nedzu also vibes with klaus's sense of chaotic humor #five gets talked into healthier coping mechanisms by way of 'keeping his cover' or 'preventing the hc from getting their hands on you'#aka five is not allowed to drink alcohol #five HAS gone to midnight and been like 'hey teach knock me the fuck out my brain is working overdrive and i need to not be awake anymore'

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tripleaxeldiaz · 3 years

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elmosolyodni for the wordstuck prompts 💕

elmosolyodni: to slowly break out into a genuine smile when being overcome with emotions, like love or utter happiness.

read on ao3

As much as he wanted it to be, as much as he wanted it for himself, Eddie’s never been great at romance.

His proposal to Shannon was more like a suggestion, a stuttering statement that tumbled out of him when she showed him the positive test six months after their first date. And he didn’t give it much thought again — didn’t have time to think about it — until a couple months into his tour, when his team was swapping stories about wives and husbands over dinner and someone asked, “So Diaz, how’d you pop the question?”

The fact that he didn’t have a story to tell stung more than he thought it would.

He tried to make it up to her — bought her flowers when he was home, took her out for their anniversary every year, but between parenthood and redeployment and the growing chasm between them when he came back the second time, any notion of romance felt harder and harder to hold onto. And when she left, amid the panic and shame and anger, there was also a sadness, a resignation that the romance he’d quietly craved just wasn’t meant for him. He had bills to pay, a kid to take care of, a life to rebuild. Sweeping gestures from him or for him no longer seemed important.

That all changed when he met Buck, as most things in his life did.

Even before they started dating, Eddie wanted to do things for Buck. He wanted to buy him the shirt in the window display that reminded him of his eyes, wanted to make sure that they always had his weird Icelandic yogurt in the fridge for when he stayed over, wanted to wrap him up when he got that broken look on his face and remind him that he is loved by everyone and especially by Eddie. It was a physical need, one he felt in his gut every time, but he’d shut that part of himself off so firmly that all he could do was hope it didn’t linger too long. Buck needed a friend, and he’d be damned if he did anything stupid enough to ruin what they already had, what they’d already built.

It took a bullet ripping through his abdomen to make him realize what a terrible idea that had been.

But a year later wounds are healed, PT is long done, and he wakes up next to Buck every morning feeling happier than he has in almost a decade. He gets to buy the shirt for him, stock up on yogurt, and press himself into Buck’s space until his eyes get their spark back. He can fantasize about the house they’ll buy or the dogs they’ll adopt once Chris moves out.

He can see a titanium ring in the display case of the jewelry store at the mall and perfectly imagine what it would look like on Buck’s finger.

And he can make it all the way to his truck after buying it before the panic starts to set it.

He doesn’t register driving to Maddie and Chim’s until he’s frantically knocking on the door, hoping he heard Buck right and that Maddie’s off today taking care of a sick Jee-yun. The door flies open, and he sees Maddie’s face go from pissed to surprised to confused as she zeros in on the velvet box held limply in his hand.

“Uh, Eddie, that’s really sweet, but there are a lot of reasons why this would never work.”

His laugh is borderline hysterical as he gently pushes into the apartment. “It’s for Buck, but I— we haven’t really— I don’t even know if—” He doesn’t realize he’s pacing until Maddie takes his elbow and steers him to the couch, hands him a glass of water, and pushes him to sit.

“Breathe. Drink,” she says, and he does as his mind keeps spinning. She sets the empty glass on the coffee table and sits in the armchair across from him. “Okay. You want to propose. That’s a good thing, right?”

“Of course.” It’s the best thing, at the very top of a list of things he thought were untoppable.

“Have you guys talked about getting married?”

It wasn’t so much a conversation as a shift in language — one day the phrase “if we get married” changed to “when we get married” and neither of them thought twice about it because it felt so right.

“Sort of,” he settles on.

“And you’re sure he’d say yes?”

“Yes.” There’s few things in life he’s ever been so sure of, no matter what his earlier panic was making him think.

“So what’s the problem?”

He slumps back on the couch, hands running through his hair. “I don’t know how to do it.”

Maddie squints at him. “Eddie, it’s a pretty hard thing to mess up. And you’ve already been married, so don’t you have some practice?”

“That was different,” he says. “Shannon was already pregnant, it was more like a to-do list item than anything else. I didn’t even get her a ring until a couple months later.”

“Well you’re already a step ahead there, so that’s good.”

He sighs, pulling the ring box out of his pocket again and opening it. The thin line of silver running through the black glints in the sunlight, and he can still picture Buck wearing it so clearly, he’s just not sure how it gets there. All he knows is this aching need he can feel in his chest to make sure that however he does it, it’s enough — more than enough — that Buck knows exactly how deep his love runs, exactly how desperately Eddie needs him in his life and by his side.

Maddie moves to sit next to him and takes the box, and Eddie falls back into the cushions again. “I just want it to be perfect for him,” he says quietly. “Romantic. All the stuff people dream about when they think about getting engaged. But I have no idea how to do that.”

Maddie studies the ring for a minute before shutting the box, pressing it into his hand until he looks her in the eye. Her gaze is steady, piercing, and very (scarily) reminiscent of her brother’s. “You are asking him to marry you. It’s already perfect.” The reassurance helps, and it’s easy to smile back at her when she squeezes his hand.

“But,” she says, reaching for a pen and notebook on the coffee table, “a little romance never killed anyone, so let’s make some lists and figure out what you do and don’t want to do.”

Lists sound good. Eddie can work with lists.

“Rule number one,” she says, already scribbling, “no sporting events. Nothing kills the mood faster than seeing your face on a Jumbotron…”

~~~~~~~~~~

In the end, none of the lists really matter.

Because two weeks later, they’re sitting on the back patio after dinner, night air cool and lit up around them by the lights Chris insisted on hanging for his last backyard sleepover. Buck’s going on about a patient who tried to insist he could do CPR on himself, and Eddie’s hypnotized by his enthusiasm, the expressiveness of his hands and the joyful blush on his cheeks. He says something that makes both of them laugh, bubbling through the quiet of the neighborhood, and Eddie knows, immediately and with every part of him.

He has to ask Buck now. It’s not the candlelit dinner and walk on the beach he’d decided on with Maddie, nor is it even close to as big and bold as anything else they’d come up with. But none of that matters now because his skin is buzzing and his heart is pounding and he doesn’t want the ring burning in his pocket a minute longer — he wants to swear himself to Buck right here, in this moment that is extraordinarily ordinary and perfectly them. This is a story he wants to tell people over and over, to their family and friends and anyone else who will listen.

The universe must still be trying to make up for the hell it put him through last year, because the playlist coming through their portable speaker changes to something softer, romantic, and Eddie takes his chance before he talks himself out of it.

“Dance with me,” he says, standing and offering his hand to Buck.

“I’m sorry, are my stories boring?” Buck laughs as he takes his hand, folding into Eddie’s space like he’s always meant to be there, arms wrapping around his waist and pulling him close.

“Never,” Eddie says, and he pauses, because the one thing he and Maddie didn’t talk about was what he actually wanted to say to Buck when he asked. And now that he’s here with very little preparation, the huge, all-encompassing feelings he has for Buck refuse to be wrangled into a few measly sentences. None of the words he can think of feel big enough to capture how deeply his love runs, and he can feel his skin start buzzing for a much more unpleasant reason.

Hands squeeze his waist, zoning him back in and focusing him on Buck, on the crease between his eyebrows and the worry around his mouth. “Everything okay?” he asks, because he always knows when Eddie gets lost in himself, sometimes even before Eddie figures it out.

Buck knows him better than he knows himself. He doesn’t need big, poetic monologues for Buck to understand what’s going on inside his head.

The buzzing changes again, fueling his determination as he slips his hand into his pocket. “I love you. So much it’s almost scary. But I’m more scared of spending the rest of my life without you,” he holds the ring up between them, “so will you marry me?”

Buck freezes, stopping them both from swaying with the music. Eddie watches his eyes flit between the ring and Eddie and back again, holding his breath as he waits for an answer. Finally, Buck’s eyes lock on Eddie and stay there, a soft smile growing and growing until it’s so incandescently bright that Eddie’s afraid he might have to look away or risk losing his vision.

And then, just as quickly, Buck drops his hands from Eddie’s waist and runs back into the house.

Eddie honestly isn’t sure what to make of this, the only thought running through his head being what the fuck just happened here. But then Buck’s running back outside, still smiling and not-so-secretly holding something behind his back, and now it’s Eddie’s turn to glow.

“You’re joking,” he says quietly, cheeks already hurting from a smile that feels permanent and eyes feeling a little wet.

Buck shakes his head, his eyes shining too as he holds up the velvet box. “Bought it like a month ago when Chris and I went to buy him a new backpack, I had to bribe him with a new video game to keep him quiet. I haven’t even gotten a chance to tell Maddie yet.”

Eddie wouldn’t be surprised if the sheer amount of joy coursing through his veins was making him float a couple inches off the ground. “Is that a yes then?” he asks.

Buck’s laugh is loud and sharp, and Eddie can’t think of a more perfect sound. He takes the ring out and tosses the box aside, holding it up next to the one in Eddie’s hand. “Only if you’ll marry me too.”

It’s a flurry, then, of rings on fingers and breathless kisses and whispers of I love you, I love you so much. The whirlwind settles and they start swaying to the music again, holding each other even closer, and Eddie revels in the new weight on his hand that ties them together. He feels light and loved, completely enveloped in this romance that he’s finally able to give fully and receive just as well.

Buck takes his hand and places a kiss just below his ring, and Eddie knows this is just the beginning. They have a lifetime of love and happiness ahead of them, and Eddie finally feels like he deserves it.

#buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #911 fox #buddie fic #911 fic #9-1-1 #can i offer you all some proposal fluff in these trying times???#alicia i'm sorry this took forever!!!#ficcery

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hogwartsfirebolt · 3 years

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Hello everyone! I’m back for my (omg time flies) third yearly drarry rec list, in which I share with you my 30 favorite drarry fics I read in the year, divided in three parts. What a year 2020 was. It was challenging, scary and confusing, and it was also an amazing reading year for me, I read so, so much more than I ever had before, and I’m really excited to share these masterpieces with you! The banner art is by @dragontamerdame who is one of my favorite artists and was kind enough to let me use this beautiful piece, which you can (and totally should) reblog right here. Now, with nothing else to add and in no particular order, here’s my

FAVORITE FICS I READ IN 2020 PART ONE

1. Who we are in the shadows - @quicksilvermaid - 100k - E - What happens when you’re forced to become the very thing you despise? Ex-Auror Harry Potter, tossed out of the Ministry for something he had no control over, has been looking for a way back to his former life. When he comes across Draco Malfoy in the criminal underbelly of Wizarding London and in need of protection, Harry figures bringing him in to face the Ministry's justice is his ticket back to everything he's lost. But nothing is exactly as it seems. Not even Harry himself. And as he gets drawn further and further into Malfoy's world of honour and deception he finds himself questioning everything he thought he knew—about his childhood nemesis, the Ministry job he misses so much, and most of all, about himself. What happens when you’re forced to see that you were wrong?

THIS FIC!!! It was the first one I read in 2020, and it immediately became my favorite fic of the entire year, and one of my favorites of all time. I have since read it two more times, the entire 100k of it. There are absolutely no words to describe how amazing it is, how much it floored me to read their characterizations, their jobs and the roads life took them on to end up where they end up, the connection between them in a time when they don’t even know how to relate to anyone, their sorrow and struggles which, despite being so rooted in the magical world, are painfully human, just... wow. It’s a masterpiece. It changed the way I view their characters, forever, and I suspect I will read it many, many more times in the years to come. It’s that kind of story. If for whatever reason you haven’t read it, this is your sign to take that chance and embark on this amazing journey.

2. Every Kingdom - @thistle-verse - 7k - E - Every kingdom needs a prince. Every prince needs a good and useful knight. Draco and Harry play their parts and renegotiate some borders while they’re at it.

So, so lovely. Even though I don’t read them very often, alternate universes fascinate me so much, and I am in awe of the author for being able to pack so, so much story, so neatly into 7k words. This features a princely, lonesome Draco, a charming, golden Harry, and a blossoming love that could change everything. It’s beautiful, and I recommend it deeply.

3. The Bucket List - GallaPlacidia - 32k - Draco will die in six months if he can't get Harry Potter to fall in love with him. Since that's not going to happen, he might as well spend his last days working through his Bucket List. Tap-dancing lessons? Rock climbing? Poetry-writing? Threesomes? Cocaine? Getting to know his adorable cousin, Teddy Lupin? Draco will try them all! Feat. Cheerily pessimistic Draco, devoted bitch queen Pansy Parkinson, and a Harry who can't help but notice that something seems DIFFERENT about Draco, these days.

I’m positive that many, many of us got acquainted with GallaPlacidia’s writing this year, and I, too, fell in love with it. This story aches in the most beautiful of ways, the humor happens to be somehow light in such a difficult circumstance that it ends up hurting when you laugh, it hurts when everything is right because it’s also wrong, it aches when it’s supposed to be a happy moment and feels tender and sweet when it’s not. I can’t even imagine the challenge of writing this kind of story, and they pulled it off beautifully. It’s a lovely story, one you will take with you long after you finish it, and, personally, I think it’s a great introduction to the author’s writing.

4. halcyon days - @the-starryknight - 1.3k - T - Sleepy mornings caught while the sun rises are reserved for silly word games and soft touches and feelings.

Oh my god, the amount of tenderness in such a low wordcount made me weak in the knees. I almost couldn’t take it. Being able to convey such a deep emotional connection in a short story seems like such a daunting task, and the author makes it seem almost effortless. I guarantee that this will make you bring your hands to your chest and sigh with how lovely it is. Reading it will be the best ten minutes of your day.

5. Clouds That Veil the Midnight Moon - @drarrytrash - 37k - E - According to Harry’s personal narrative regarding the incident, he’d hooked up with Draco Malfoy for purely self-destructive reasons, or out of convenience, or by some unlucky accident. Looking at him, sprawled in the moonlight, Harry is devastated to recall that he’d hooked up with Draco Malfoy because he’s hot. Draco is a secret werewolf and Harry is doing his best and they've got criminals to catch, darn it.

Reading this, I found myself laughing out loud, nodding profusely with how freaking spot on the characterizations are. The dialogue is amazing, so hilarious and real and Harry’s inner monologue is so, so him. I love everything about this story. I have a soft spot for werewolf fic, and this one hit everything I love about it, the case is interesting and engaging, the incidental characters, the OCs, Ron and Hermione, everyone and everything is absolutely perfect and I had an absolute blast reading it. You HAVE to read this and see for yourself what I’m talking about.

6. Sex Ed for Aurors - curiouslyfic - 8k - M - Some things, you need to learn on the job.

Oh my god this is so freaking good. The premise is, basically, that Harry is accidentally doused with a lust potion while in the vicinity of Draco, and suddenly wants him more than anything. I loved this take on that trope, we’re in Harry’s head, and it’s absolutely hilarious and endearing to experience the near childish glee he feels whenever Draco looks his way, when he smiles, when he feels he’s made him happy, meanwhile Draco and Ron are horrified and doing whatever they can to correct it. This is so funny and such a good time, I can’t recommend it enough! While you’re at it, you should definitely read megyal’s remix of this, which is also a blast.

7. plasticine porters with looking-glass ties - @bonesliketambourines - 15K - E - Lately, Harry thinks things don’t seem the same between him and Draco. His head is in the clouds when he thinks about what their relationship is now, and where it might be headed—he’s happy with their friendship, but he wants something else. A potions accident over a lunchtime visit to Draco’s lab (what does he get up to in there, anyway?) changes things, though, and accelerates their relationship faster than either of them had ever expected. How are they going to get through this new development together?

Atmospheric, beautifully-written and delicious. Their relationship is tender, just on the edge of something more, when they’re forced to quarantine together and face the effects of a potion that makes them see and feel things differently, which makes for the most intense, visual, gorgeous sex scene I think I’ve ever read. It’s just absolutely phenomenal.

8. i wake up falling - warmfoothills - 9k - M - Draco’s always leaving, one way or another. Harry’s usually 240 thousand miles too late.

In trying to come up with a way to summarize this story, I’m feeling the overwhelming urge to cry again, just like I did when I read it. It’s just so, so, beautiful, every single word of it aches in the best way, the longing feels deeply authentic and just, the setting and the jobs and everything is so unique and gorgeous. Every single work by this author is beyond beautiful, but especially this one is incredibly close to my heart and I think everyone should read it. It’s a gem.

9. In Every Universe - @skeptiquewrites - 27k - M - They sent Professor Harry Potter to search for Unspeakable Draco Malfoy. Draco has stolen a Firebird, an experimental magical device from the Department of Mysteries that lets you enter parallel universes as yourself. As Harry traverses from universe to universe, he begins to think Draco might be the one searching for him. A story about whether knowing what's possible makes it possible.

Stories where the characters find themselves somehow hopping from one reality to another are always so, so fascinating to me, and this one is incredibly creative and well-written, so entertaining all around. The mystery of it kept me on my toes, and every single reality was a joy to read. 10/10

10. Life goes not backward - @shealwaysreads - 8k - T - Harry still isn’t used to gifts, but this one is different. A story of coming home, finding safe ground, and the wild courage of putting down roots. Leaving one life behind isn’t always a sacrifice, and sometimes the greatest good comes from embracing the people you love.

My god, there are not enough words to describe how much this story means to me, how beautiful it is, how every single time I’ve read it, I’ve cried. Bella has undoubtedly become one of my absolute favorite writers in fandom. She has such a way with words, there is not one of her stories that hasn’t touched me, that doesn’t feel like an actual, full-length novel no matter the word count. I read so many of them this year, so many of the masterpieces she’s gifted us, but this one especially is so tender, so dear, that I ended up choosing it as my favorite of hers this year. Harry’s charactertization, the unbelievable warmth of their relationship, absolutely everything about this is gorgeous. Go read it, right now, and then binge all her other works!! You won’t regret it.

---------------------------------

Each of these fics is incredibly close to my heart and I enjoyed them immensely. In the midst of everything changing, I really found comfort and solace in the amazing works of the people of this fandom. I hope they give you the same amount of warmth and comfort they gave me, and I’m ALWAYS here to gush about any of them ❤️ Happy New Year!

#drarry #drarry fic #drarry fanfic #drarry fic rec #2020rec #ficrec #draco malfoy #harry potter #drarry rec list

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