and i heard that bridge

Things I Noticed My First Time Listening To The Last 5 Years

So, I recently listened to The Last 5 Years for the first time and I would just like to point out a few things I noticed that really hit home for me. (There are some spoilers)

1. In ‘Nobody Needs To Know’ Jamie says “Come back to bed kid, take me inside you. I promise I won’t lie to you. Hold on, don’t cry yet, I won’t let you go.” but in ‘See I’m Smiling’ Cathy starts crying and says “I swear to god I’ll never understand how you can stand there, straight and tall, and see I’m crying, and not do anything at all.” meaning he was more willing to not only be more honest with these random one night stands, but to comfort them when the cry than with his wife of five years. 

2. In ‘If I Didn’t Believe In You’ Jamie says to Cathy “I will not fail so you can be comfortable, Cathy, I will not loose because you cannot win” but I took the line in ‘The Schmuel Song’ Jamie says “Cathy you get to be happy… I give you unlimited time…” and then a few lines later says “Take your time.” (and I’m sure this line can be interpreted in different ways but) I took this to mean that Jamie is happy to support Cathy for as long as she is unable to provide for herself, since he advises her to quit her job in the line “Say goodbye to wiping ashtrays at the bar” and is telling her that he will help her until she has her big break. So, obviously in-between these few years his point of view changed. Also, it must have by the end of their relationship since he left her while she was still struggling with no job besides her summer job in Ohio as we know. 

3. Okay Cathy is kinda catty in ‘I Can Do Better Than That’ in my opinion… like she’s talking about this girl from high school who maybe doesn’t have the dream life but like… neither does she so I mean? Just my opinion though. 

4. In ‘Climbing Uphill’ I don’t think that Cathy is at all jealous of Jamie’s success, I think it’s more that she feels almost inadequate to him and like she’s maybe doesn’t deserve him???? Because she says “Jamie needs space to write since I’m obviously such a horrible annoying distraction to him.” She thinks he hates her almost and like she’s not good enough for him.

5. As much as I HATE Jamie by the end of the musical, In my honest opinion Jamie and Cathy should have broken up far before that (not like the story wise… I just believe that their relationship became unhealthy) because of… well the list number before this, Jamie constantly wanted to sleep with multiple other women right from the get-go after they got married, Cathy isn’t really that supporting of Jamie’s accomplishments and doesn’t want to go to a celebration of another book getting published. Also, in See I’m Smiling Cathy is almost trying to convince herself that she can hold on to this relationship AND she says “And I know in your soul it must drive you crazy, that you won’t get to play with your little girlfriends” which means she at least knows he’s been flirting with other women, right? There are so many other examples I could use, but these are the first couple that came to mind. 


oneill_center The first performance of Tom Kitt & John Logan’s new musical SUPERHERO is tonight in the Barn! Jason Moore directs and Kelli O'Hara and James Snyder lead the cast. #oneillsummer


Eric x Reader

Requested by Anon

Warnings: strong language, smut, dirty talk, sex

“(Y/N)…” Your brother’s eyes dropped to the skirt you were wearing, frowning because you were wearing the dress and not your usual jeans and because it was anything but the Dauntless colours.

“What is it?” You sighed expecting an earful.

He shook his head and decided you’d had enough of him telling you to train seriously the night before and didn’t need him nagging you again. “Will you go and find Eric he’s late.”

Keep reading

Half Asgardian pt.2!

A/N: Ummm holy shit you guys. You guys are the best. I loved all the good feed back I got from part one. Honestly I wasn’t expecting to get as many notes as it did.Like literally I had a smile on my face all day because holy fuck over 250+ notes in less than a day.Also OMFG close to 100 followers? Should I do something special? Do you guys want anything??? I know its just 100, but like I am so appreciative of you guys and your love that I kinda wanna do something? All of you are so nice and I love writing for you guys! Here is part 2 my lovelies!!!!

Warnings: Fluff, possible angst, cursing

Word Count: 6.5k+

I woke up in my bed and my head was foggy. My body felt dull. I literally had to roll out of bed because my limbs were not working normally and I hit the floor with a thud.


“What was that? Are you ok?” Tony came rushing into the room.

“I’m good. I’m just on the floor contemplating my life’s decisions.” I said rolling over to where I could see him.

“What were you thinking?Having Thor send lightening through you?”

“I thought maybe……. I had super abilities that were dormant. I don’t know what I was thinking I just wanted to be special like the rest of the Avengers.”

“Y/n are my daughter you’re already more special then all of them. You already have super abilities. Look at how smart you are? Look what you can create and what you did create for Rhodey. I didn’t know you did it til I asked him about it. I don’t have super powers. I’m just smart.”

“You have a suit.”

“That I built because I’m smart.”

“So does that mean I can build a suit?” 

“Hell no. You are a small child. You aren’t going to be fighting anyone and if you do, I will know about it and I will ground you.” 

“Awwww you’re no fun.” I told him.

“Heyy! I am the definition of fun.”


“Come on kiddo get up Steve is going on a breakfast run.” He said helping me up.

We walked out of the room and were ambushed by the rest of the Avengers.

“Is she alright?”

“Does she need anything?”

“What does she want for breakfast?”

“Guys I’m ok really.” I told them rubbing my eyes of sleep.

“Alright you guys disperse. Y/n you should tell Steve what you want so he can go get it.”

“Honestly Steve anything you can find that’s sugary. Donuts, pastries, anything.”

Everyone started to lounge around and started to watch the T.V. I went to get some ice tea from the fridge when I heard thumps. I turned around and Peter knocked me over in a hug so we both lay flat on the floor. “Peter!”

“Sorry!” He muffled getting up a little but still hugging me.

“It wasn’t like I was going to die Peter.”

“No, but you scared me. You got struck by lightening for Thor’s sake.”

I giggled then hugged him tighter. “Don’t worry about it I’m ok.”

Time skip:About a week later.

“Pepper did you hear that?” I asked her. We stayed silent. There was another rumble.

“Y/n….. we need to move…” She whispered quietly and we both stood up from the couch.

“Mr.Stark has asked that you two move to a safer location as quickly as possible.” F.R.I.D.A.Y. said rather loud and there was another rumble. Pepper and I ran out of my room and peaked into the main room. Coast was clear. We walked out and Pepper ran to grab the gun that was under the island in the kitchen and the door busted down. I froze. 

It was a group of guys with big machine guns. The one in front had a buzz cut and sunglasses and lowered his machine gun to my level.

“Hello.” He said smiling.The machine gun rang off and I screamed as loud as I could and was ready to feel bullets tear through my body. 

The feeling never came. I had closed my eyes and opened them only when the noise stopped. The bullets were right in front of me. As in front of my face in front of me.

“What the fuck?” The guy said and I ran grabbing Pepper from the kitchen and dragged her downstairs to where we could find a car.

“WHAT WAS THAT?” Pepper asked as we ran down the stairs and up to one of Tony’s cars.

“I don’t know. Here give me the gun.” I told her as she got into the driver’s seat. 

“Do you even know how to fire one of those things?” She asked pulling out of the parking spot as those guys came downstairs firing their guns. 

“Drive” I told her popping my head out of the sun roof and shot one of them in the stomach.

“WHERE DID YO-HOW DID LEARN HOW TO FIRE A GUN?” Pepper asked as she drove frantically out of the building.

“I wanted to be a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent remember?” I told her sitting back down in my seat and put on the seat belt. “Put your seat belt on.”

The guys from the building pulled up next to us.

“Where do you think you ladies are going?”

“FUck.” I said and pulled the lever on Pepper’s chair that made her recline backwards as I ducked. Glass shattered and fell over us and the car started to swerve.

“Trade me seats.”

“What are you doing you don’t know how to drive?!” She told me as I crawled over and she traded seats.

“Um I know now isn’t the best time to tell you, but I sometimes take the cars out in the middle of the night.” I said and floored the gas and started to weave in and out of the cars on the street.

Pepper held onto the seat as I sped up.

I looked and saw that we had lost them.

“So where do you wanna go?” I asked her.

“Are you sure we lost them?”She asked.

“Ladies, Mr. Stark has requested that each of you put these radios in your ear.” F.R.I.D.A.Y said and a compartment popped open with little ear pieces.

“Sup Dad?” I asked driving.

“Hi you guys still have bad guys on you’re tail. Pepper you need to lose them.”

“Oh I’m not driving your daughter is.”

“Who taught you how to drive?More importantly Pepper why are you letting her drive?”

“She says she takes it out during the night?”

“How? She’d have to get past me? Ok not the point those guys are still on your tail.”

“Well than why don’t you guys get them off our tail? Why are they after us anyway?”

“We don’t know.”

“You guys are amazing.” I told him. The thugs pulled up next to us again and started to bump us scratching the car. The traffic came to a complete stop and we both rear ended the cars in front of us.

“Pepper where is the gun?” I asked and she went down to grab it from the floor when the glass on my window shattered. The door opened and I was dragged out kicking and screaming. I was thrown on the ground and the thug that grabbed me was now aiming a gun at me. There was a gun shot, but it wasn’t him who fired, it was Pepper.

“Are you ok?” Pepper asked getting out of the car.

“Yea I’m ok.” 

We started to jog away from our car and tried avoiding getting hit by the other people trying to leave as well. All hell was breaking loose.

We were almost at the edge of the bridge when i felt myself being lifted off the ground. I saw the ground get smaller and Pepper yelling.

My heart pounded harder as we got higher up. All of a sudden I was dropped onto concrete again.I stood on top of the Brooklyn Bridge.The air was colder up here. 

“We’re up pretty high. I wouldn’t suggest looking down.” I turn around and someone with a suit similar to Iron-man’s and War Machine.

“Who the hell are you?”

“Nobody of importance.” He held up his hand and tried to blast me. I jumped and moved my arms to block my body. A force appeared in front of me shielding me. There was a searing hot pain through my hands. I held them close to my body and black marks appeared on my skin. What the hell. I heard the charge of his suit for another blast.

“Dude you and your guys have seriously pissed me off tonight.” I said running towards him and kicked his legs out from underneath him. I quickly looked for a way into the suit. He started to move and I jumped onto him. There had to be someway to get in. Even on dad’s suit there is a way to get in from the outside. He tried to fly, but I grabbed the neck of the suit and pulled him down before he got very far. 

“Stop moving so I can fuck up your suit.” I told him as he started to swing at me.

My hands seared with pain again as I dodged a hit and only to be put in a choke hold.

“Now you little brat.Time to end this.” There was a crack and his body went slack behind me. I turned around and the suit laid there not moving.

“Dude are you dead or unconscious?”

“WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT???” Rhodey asked/yelled over the radio.

“What? Are you guys ok? I’m on top of the bridge and kind need help down.”

“That big lightening strike was you?” 

“Lightening? I didn’t see anything? Can one of you guys come get me please?” There was no reply. Did I really just take him out with lightening? WHAT THE FUCK WAS GOING ON? WHY ARE THERE SCORCH MARKS ON MY HANDS??? I just wanted to have a movie night with Pepper, but nooooo. Stupid ass trash can had to go and start shit. I sat down and started to look at the suit the guy was wearing again.

There was a whizzing noise and one of the guys from earlier had a jet pack on and was now in front of me.

“Y/n don’t move. One of us is coming to get you.” Tony said in the little radio in my ear. I looked around for a sign of any of the Avengers with no luck and the main thug was in front of me with his knife out and ready.

“Where are you gonna go little girl?” He asked walking towards me and I looked over the side of the bridge.

“Seriously? I just took down you’re boss and you’re threatening me? Just how stupid are you?” I asked.

“Very.” He said running towards me.

“Guys….?!” The thug tackled me. I reached out for something to grab to prevent me from falling and ended up having my arm scrape against whatever I hit. Soon we were both falling off the top of the bridge. I heard screaming and wasn’t sure if it was my own or the people on the bridge. I flipped him over so he would take full impact of landing in the water.

The cold rushed over me and stung my skin. It was so dark I couldn’t tell which way was the surface and which way was down until I felt the water pressure get heavy. Something was around my leg dragging me down. I kicked and punched until I was able to resurface.

“Fu…” I started to shiver. I didn’t see any of the Avengers so I started swimming to what appeared to be the closest land mass. I was swimming for a good 10 minutes before I felt myself being dragged from the water and into the air. 

“Gotchya. Why didn’t you answer your radio?”

“You guys weren’t even talking. Half the time when I said something there was no reply!” I said as Peter pulled me onto the bridge with his web. He helped me over the railing on the bridge and I could barely stand normal with how cold it was.

“Come on we need to go back to the tower and get you fixed up.” He said wrapping and arm around me and I put my arms around his neck as we swung off of the bridge.

I gripped onto Peter tightly. “P-Pleas-se d-don’t dr..op me.” I closed my eyes shivering as the cold air hit my already cold body. My whole body tensed everytime Peter swung to a different building.

“Hey I won’t drop you. You’re safe.” We soon landed at the tower and Peter rushed me inside. His arm never left my body and I was stumbling over my feet. I hit the button on the elevator to where we were staying. I looked down and drops of blood were pooling at my feet. Great.

“We can get you a change of clothes and then to the medical bay a few floors down.” Peter said when the elevator door opened. He tried leading me to my room, but I pulled him to the kitchen and grabbed the medical kit. I noticed a pair of Nat’s gloves on the counter and pulled them on.

“What are you doing?” He asked looking worried and frantic.

“Just…. watch.” I told him taking my little invention out of the kit. I shook the bottle and sprayed it where I was bleeding. I winced at the pain but the blood started to clot then heal.

“Whoa. What is that?”

“L-little inv-vent..ion of m-mine.” I told him shivering “I-I need a h-hot show-wer.” I said trying to walk past him, but he wrapped his arms around me.


“You can’t switch temperatures that fast or your body will go into shock.” He told me and his body heat felt good so I hugged him tighter.

“Is she ok Peter?” I heard over the little radio.

“Yea she just needs to rest.”

“Is anyone else hurt?” I asked

“Nat got a bullet that grazed her leg and Sam probably has a broken rib now. We’re coming home.”

“If I’m not awake to do it then take the spray that’s on the island and put on Nat’s leg and in Sam’s mouth.” I told them.

“How are you feeling?” Peter asked resting his head on mine.

“Better. I’m still soaked tho.”

“Well go take a shower and get something warm on then come back out here.” He told me slowly releasing me from the hug. I was upset that his warmth left me, but I went to go take a hot shower and returned to the main room where the Avengers had reappeared and Peter had set up a movie with blankets and pillows.

“Is this the new spray you were working on?” Tony asked.

“Yea. It fixes broken bones, stops bleeding, cleans up the wound, etc. It just doesn’t do super big stuff like a broken neck or a chunk of body missing.” I told him as Nat sprayed her leg and it healed up.

“Nuh uh. Nope. I’m not spraying some mysterious in me.” Sam said holding his ribs. I walked over to him and took the spray.

“Hey Nat….” I said and she pinched his neck making him scream and I sprayed the bottle inside his mouth.

He started coughing “THAT’S NASTY!!!”

“But do you feel better?” I asked.

“Yea. Taste like someone tried to cook trash.” I giggled. 

“You’re ok right? No head injuries, no anything right?” Tony asked putting his hands on my shoulders checking for any sign of injury.


“You wanna explain what happened???” He asked.

“Tomorrow? I wanna hang out with Peter…..”



He sighed. “Don’t stay up too late. You’ve had a long day and we’re going to have a long day tomorrow. We gotta keep your face out of the papers so you can keep going to school.” He said hugging me goodnight. The Avengers disperesed and I sat down in the nest Peter set up.

“Waaaaiittt I made hot chocolate. Its still in the microwave.” He stood up and I sprawled out over the couch taking up all the room.

“Ok I’m ba- hey! Move over y/n/n.” I sat up and he handed me the hot chocolate.

“So what movie are we watching? Star Wars?” I asked him.

“Possibly…..” He said with a grin on his face.

We finished our hot chocolate and we were half way through the movie when I started to feel sleepy. My legs were tangled with Peter’s and we had our arms around each other at this point. Peter started playing with my hair and it wasn’t long before I fell asleep.


I looked around and there was no one around. Where was I? I walked around in the big building. The architecture was so intricate and beautiful. I looked out the window and there was a big city. I kept wandering through the rooms and stumbled across a metal cage with an strange animal inside.

“Stay with someone at all times. You hear me? They’re waiting for you to be alone.” It was mom’s voice.

I shot up accidentally waking Peter up.

“Is everything ok?” He asked.

“Yea. I’ll be back.”

“No where are you going what’s wrong?” He asked pulling me back to his chest.

“Peter I promise I’m ok. I just got to check on something?”

“Y/n.” I looked up and saw Wanda.

“Stay here. I’ll be back in a little bit. Go back to sleep.” I said easing myself off of him. I walked over to Wanda and she took my arm and led me to the elevator.

“You woke me up.” She finally said.

“I was sleeping how did I wake you up?”

“You’re thoughts were very loud. It was like you were screaming.”

“Is that why you’re up here?” I asked her as the elevator door opened and we walked to her room.

“What was that place? In your dream?”

“I don’t know.”

“Was that your mother’s voice? The Asgardian?”

“Yes. That dream….. it was strange.”

“Do me a favor and do as it says, I mean by not being alone. Especially after last night. What happened last night with the lightening strike?”

I pulled off the gloves that I had kept on over night. The marks were still there and she gasped when she saw them.

“Does it hurt?” She asked taking my hands in hers.

“No, but when they were forming it burned like hell. No one else knows yet.”

“Maybe you should talk to Thor about it. It could be about your heritage.”

“Do you know if he’s up?”

“No, but I’m sure he wont mind if you wake him.” She said and walked with me down the hall. 

“What are you doing up this early kiddo?” I turned around and hid my hands behind my back.

“I was just talking with Wanda. Why aren’t you in bed?”

“Why are you acting suspicious and hiding your hands behind your back?”

“Why are you asking so many questions?”

“Why are you avoiding my questions with questions?”

“Didn’t you know that you’re suppose to answer a question with a question?” I asked.

“Ok quit with the bullshit what’s going on?”

“We’re going to see Thor about what happened last night.” Wanda said and Tony started to walk with us, but I still kept my hands out of sight. I left the gloves in Wanda’s room.

Thor woke when we entered the room.

“Hey Thor, you know how you said being in a dangerous situation would possibly wake up dormant powers?”

“Yes Lady y/n. Is this about last night?”

“Yes and by any chance can you explain why I got searing pain in my hands as these marks showed up last night?” I asked showing him my hands. Thor stood up and walked over.

“Why didn’t you tell me about this last night?” Tony asked.

“I forgot. I was too busy being cold.”

“You’ve got your mark Lady y/n! You yielded lightening just like I can. I have much to teach you.”

“Thor I didn’t just do lightening. I was able to create shields. Each time it looked like it was a different matter.”

Thor’s brow furrowed. “Maybe you don’t have the same gifts as me, but something similar?”

“I looked back over last night’s footage from the news. I dont think it was lightening.It didn’t come from the sky. It came from her. Sparked from your body.”

“Mr.Stark. Multiple news centers are requesting a meeting about last night.” F.R.I.D.A.Y. said.

“I’ll see what I can do to keep last night’s events a secret. We still don’t know who those people were or how they were able to break into the tower.”

“It probably wasn’t that hard since I was able to walk in without a question when I first showed up here.” I said.

“Rhodey can handle the press and say it was a military thing or some shit like that.” Tony said.

“We will practice today with your powers and see exactly what you can do.” Thor said.

“But for now you should probably go back to sleep because Peter is starting to worry and its 2 in the morning.” Wanda said

I went back to the main room and apologized to Peter for worrying him and we went back to sleep.

Time skip: A few days.

Thor and I had trained and figured out that my powers that I had acquired were able to create things or manipulate the atoms around me per say. I could create metals out of thin air. The night on the bridge I was able to create electricity by manipulating the atoms. I practiced daily with Thor when I wasn’t at school and stayed up late into the night thinking of things that I could create and an idea about Peter came to me. Dad found me the next morning slumped over on my work desk.

“Kiddo you’re going to be late for school.” He said nudging me.

“School!” I said waking up and rushed to get ready.

Later that day

I sat next to Peter in Chem as the rest of the class entered. Ned sat on the opposite side of Peter. 

“Look at all the geeks are paired up.” Flash said.

“Come on Flash you can think of a better insult than that.. or can you?” I asked as he sat down in front of us.

“Settle down class. Get to work on the lab that is written on the board.”

Ned got up and grabbed goggles, Peter got up to grab the chemicals, and I started to set up the lab and the write up. I got the equation and all the math written down. All of a sudden liquid was all over the write up.

“Oops. Mrs.Jones we have an acid spill!” Flash said smirking.

“That was on purpose Flash.” Peter said.

“No I tripped.”

“Just do another lab write up while there is still time.”Mrs.Jones said while cleaning up the mess. I did as she said and we all finished the lab. Mrs.Jones checked to make sure we had done the lab correct then told us to get rid of the chemicals in the waste bin she had at the front of the classroom then she walked away.

I took our finished lab chemicals and poured it into Flash’s backpack. Ned and Peter’s jaw dropped. 


“Oh Oh my gosh I’m so sorry I was getting up and I accidentally bumped the chemicals and they just spilled…. I’m sorry here let me help you clean it up.” I said louder than necessary to get the Mrs.Jones’ attention.

“No it’s ok Y/n I’ll clean it up. This backpack has to be disposed of. It looks like everything in it got eaten up by the acid.”

“WHaT? My english essay was in there.”

“Ooo you mean the one that had to be hand-written, at least 5 pages long and double sided with correct citations for Mrs. Harp’s class? That sucks dude. I would give you mine, but she knows my handwriting from yours.” I told him.

“Just tell Mrs.Harp that acid got on to it.” Mrs.Jones said.

Flash groaned. I faked pity. The bell rang and everyone turned in their write up.

“ That was beautiful y/n. I wish I had a photo of Flash’s face when you did that.” Ned said laughing.

“HEY STARK WANNA BE!” Flash yelled coming up to us. All of a sudden I was up against the locker and Flash towered over me.

“You may have gotten a good hit in once, but that won’t happen again.” He said grabbing the collar of my jacket.

“Let her go Flash.” Peter said. Flash didn’t move.

“Come on Flash… Hit me. I dare you too. But look around at who is watching. If you start the fight I will end it with you a mess on the floor.” I told him looking him straight in the eye daring him to do it. He backed down.

“You’re not worth my time.” He said walking away and the crowd dispersed.

“You scare me sometimes.” Ned told me.


“Because he had you pinned against the locker and you looked him in the eye unwavering. It was like a movie.” I giggled.

“Well I don’t think he’ll be messing with us anymore.” I told him.

“Hey Y/n why are you always wearing those gloves now? I get its cold outside, but we’re inside.”

“She just likes to wear them.” Peter said quickly jumping in.

“Ok ok.”

“Ned you’re still the guy in the chair right?”


“Y/n shhhh.” Peter said ducking his head lower.

“Nobody is gonna know what we are talking about. Plus we’re geeks remember?”

“She has a point Peter.” Ned said.

“Do you wanna come to the tower?” I asked him.

Ned’s eyes widened. “Seriously?”

“Yes I’m serious. You can’t play with my dad’s stuff though. However I will let you test and mess with my inventions.”

“YES! Do I get to meet the Avengers?”

“Only if you run into one of them. They most likely wont be on the floor that we are on.”

“This is so awesome.” Ned said walking ahead of us to lunch. 

“You really trust Ned with that equipment?” Peter asked

“Yea and I need him there because he is going to help me with my surprise for you.” I smiled.

“What? What surprise?”

“It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you now would it?”

“No, but normally surprises aren’t even mentioned they kind of just happen so now by the law of surprises you now have to tell me.” He said.

“Nope.” I told him and he grabbed my hand pleading with puppy dog eyes. “No don’t do that to me Peter. Honestly you can wait a few hours.” I told him and pulled him along to sit down next to Ned and I sat across from them.

“What’s wrong Peter?”

“Y/n told me she has a surprise for me and now won’t tell me what it is. She said you have to help her with it.”

“Y/n you know by the law of surprises he is right. Knowing that a surprise is going to happen doesn’t make it a surprise.” Ned said and Peter gave me the ‘I-told-you-so’ look. I rolled my eyes.

Happy came to pick us up and Ned was amazed. 

“Why do they call you Happy?” Ned asked sitting between Peter and I. Ned kept asking questions the whole ride with Peter and I trying not to laugh.

When we arrived we went straight up to my room and dropped our backpacks down. 

“SO do i get to know now?” Peter asked since it was obviously eating away at him.

“Ned you want anything to eat?”

“Y/n tell the poor man.”

“Ok ok…” I giggled “I’m in charge of adding stuff to you’re suit and making it better.”

Peter’s face lit up. “You’re joking.” He told me.

“Nope. I have a list of things that I’m writing programs for and getting put into the suit.”

“Y/n you’re the best! What are you putting in it?” He asked hugging me.

“Well I have a few things, but I was going to have the guy in the chair tell me what he thinks you need.” I said and Ned squealed.


“I probably could. Come on we can go to my lab and check it out. You guys wanna order pizza?”

“ Yea F.R.I.D.A.Y. can you order 2 extra large pizzas, one half cheese and half meat lover and the other half New York style and half pepperoni.” Peter said.

“Yes, Mr.Parker.”

“Thanks F.R.I.D.A.Y.” I said.

“You’re welcome Ms.Stark.” 

We entered the lab and both looked in amazement. None of them had been in here before. Ned walked over to my whiteboard which had my ideas for Peter’s suit.

“Y/n this is impossible. There isn’t a metal or material that is thin,bendable or strong enough to be bullet proof.” Ned said and Peter walked over to the board.

“Well Ned that would be where you are wrong. Because wherever there is a will there is a way. So…..” I pushed the whiteboard out of the way to reveal a sheet of metal I had created.

“What is this?” Peter asked going to touch it and he bent it back and forth. I took off my gloves.

“Its strange isn’t it? You think with its atomic number it would be really heavy and stiff right?” 

“Y/n what happened to your hands?” Ned asked and Peter’s head whipped around to me

“You mean you made this?” he asked.


“Hello? Am I talking to a deaf person?” Ned asked.

“Ned I’m only half human. My mom came from the same place as Thor.”


“I was born here Ned. I’ve never been. These marks on my hands are from my powers no longer being dormant?”

“But you just started wearing gloves recently.”

“Yea they came out when there was a dangerous situation.”

“What dangerous situation have you been in?”

“The attack on the Brooklyn Bridge.”

“They said that was a rogue military thing.”

I laughed. “Uncle Rhodey needs to use his imagination more. No it wasn’t. We still didn’t know who those people were. Anyways did you want to check to see for yourself if this material is good enough for our boy? Choose a weapon.” I said walking over to a wall and pulling out a big shelf.


“You to Peter. You’re the one who is going to be wearing it.”

“You never told me what it’s atomic number is.” Peter said grabbing a gun that had some of the most powerful bullets ever made by man in it. Ned settled on a knife and I grabbed a grenade.

“Whoa whoa whoa… what are you doing with that?” Peter asked.

“Peter I’ve already done the grenade. I just wanna show you guys. You guys go first.” 

Ned walked up to it and hit it with the knife and it shattered.

Peter fired the gun and the bullet hit then fell onto the floor.

I walked over and made a little basket with the metal leaving a small hole to quickly put the grenade in. “You guys can get behind the desk if you’re worried.” They both went behind the desk and watched carefully. I pulled the ring, dropped it in quickly and sealed the rest of the metal. There was a boom noise, but the metal stayed in a small ball. I unwrapped it and showed them the shattered bits of grenade and the un-dented metal. They looked amazed.

“ I even had Vision see if he could do any damage to it. He was able to get a small hole….. right there.” I said pointing to what looked like a pencil mark. “So the only one who would be able to hurt Peter, theoretically, would be me. To answer your earlier question about the atomic number, it’s around 1200.”

“ Oh my-what do you mean theoretically?” Peter asked.

“Well if aliens come again I don’t know what kind of weapons they have or if it will be able to do anything to this metal.” I told him.

“I think we should be fine.” Peter said.

“Can we still add lasers to his suit?” Ned asked.

“The closest I can would be web like lasers.”

“What about snacks?” 

“Ned I don’t need snacks in my suit.” Peter said.

“Yes you do. You forget to eat sometimes.” I told him and entered in a program that he could access if he wanted something to eat. “The best I can do is like some trail mix since its small enough.”

“Does his suit have night vision?”

“It does now.” I said typing in a program.

“ What about……. I can’t think of anything else.”

“What about your spray?” Peter asked.

“Yea I can put that in there. Anything else?”


“What’s the spray?”

“She invented a spray the mends broken bones and wounds.” Peter said and the doorbell rang.

“I’ll get it.” I stood up and suit started to be created as I left. I grabbed my wallet and tipped the pizza girl and carried both of the pizzas back to the lab. 

I opened the door with my back. “Pizzas are here. Do you guys want something to drink? We have anything and everything.”

Peter was flushed red.

“Huh? Oh um no I’ll get the soda.” Peter said walking out of the lab.

“What’s up with him?” I asked.

“You’re so smart,but so stupid.” Ned told me going for the pizza.

“What am I missing?” I asked.

“Nothing I’ll tell you later.” Ned said.

Peter came back with some drinks. We sat and ate the pizza while we watched the suit being designed in front of us.

After it was done faster than I had expected.

“Peter try it on.” I told him.

He took the suit and walked to the bathroom.

“So you going to tell me what’s up with him?”

“Y/n don’t worry about it.”

“I have to worry about it he’s one of my best friends.”

“ How do I look?” Peter said coming out of the bathroom. 

“Nice dude.” Ned said and I had lost my use of words. God fucking damn.

“Y/n?” Peter asked.

“I-its good.” 

“ You should do a test run.” Ned said

“Yea this suit feels alot lighter than my other one I could probably swing alot faster now.”

“GO SPIDERMAN GO!” Ned said and Peter went to go test the suit outside.

“What the hell was that?” Ned asked me as soon as Peter left.


“You know what. You just lost your speech function for a good 3 minutes and were starting at Peter with goo goo eyes.” He said acting like I was stupid.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I wasn’t staring….”

“He likes you too you know.” Ned said

“Yea ok.” I said sarcastically.

“Like I said, you’re so smart, but you’re so stupid.” He told me shaking his head. “Dont you have like security footage in here? You can check what he said for yourself.”

I did later that night. :)

Next day

I should’ve stayed in bed. I felt terrible in the morning and I should’ve taken that as a sign to stay in bed and not go to school. There were quizzes in every class I had that day and at lunch when I thought I would find relieve for an hour by talking with my best friends I was bitterly disappointed. Ned had to make up a lab and some girl was sitting with Peter. I wouldn’t normally have let this bother me, until she leaned over and kissed him. I started to think about what I had heard him say the night before on the footage and decided Ned was wrong and he only said those things because he was grateful for the suit and it didn’t mean anything. On top of that Flash had sent someone after me after school. I don’t know how they found out all the information they had on me, but it did not end well. I came home with a busted lip and knuckles to match.

When Peter asked what was wrong I didn’t really tell him what was bothering me, but instead told him I was just going to the roof and wanted to be left alone. 

And so I went to the roof alone. 

Tony’s p.o.v

“Hey guys where is Y/n? I haven’t seen her in a few hours. Did she come back from school Peter?”

“Yea Happy drove us both here. She was a little upset from school and told me she needed to cool off and that she would be on the roof.”

“Why would she be upset from school?” I asked.

“ I wasn’t there when it happened, but Ned told me someone went off on her talking about her mom and stuff. He wouldn’t tell me any details, but he said it was a pretty big fight.”

“I’ll go check on her.” I went to the roof and she wasn’t there. 

“F.R.I.D.A.Y. where is Y/n’s location?” I asked.

“That can not be determined Mr.Stark.”

“What do you mean can’t be determined?” I asked and my heart started to beat a little faster. I didn’t lose my daughter. That’s not possible.

I walked around on the roof to look for some kind of sign of her being up here. I rounded the corner from the little greenhouse she built up here.

My heart dropped.

OOOOOOOOO I think that’s a good place to leave the story for now  ;)

Side note: I take requests you guys. I promise I don’t bite. Honestly I love talking to you guys too.

Also I’m starting tag lists so if you want to be on a permanent tag list lemme know or if you just want it for one story. I think I got everyone who wanted to be tagged for this story. I’m sorry if I missed one of you guys, it wasn’t on purpose. Alright you guys are amazing don’t forget it. Have a good day lovelies!

Tag list:@zsupernaturalz @bloggett @polarbearnamedpanda @peter-pan-hoe

Mark Plays Crash Bandicoot

Mark: Oh, this is easy. I doubt it will get any harder

Crash: Hold my beer

You’re Dumber Than I Thought (Barnes/Rogers x reader)

Request:  Can I request a story where Bucky, Steve, and the reader are all in a poly relationship and the reader and Steve are always doing reckless shit and Bucky is 1000% done because they could both get really hurt and they are doing this for stupid reasons.

Being in a relationship with Bucky Barnes was a challenge to say the least; he had been through more than most people could survive in his lifetime, and the nightmares and mood swings showed that often enough, but that wasn’t what brought you the most difficulty. It was being in a relationship together with Steve Rogers that would give you the most upheaval in your lives together.  Of any two men in the world to love at the same time, these two may have been the craziest choices that you could make.

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anonymous asked:

a prompt: spock standing close to the captains chair + accidental touching

the working title of this fic was “touchy touchy” if that tells you anything ghfjdks

Loud and Clear (read it on ao3 here)

“Hey, Spock? Could you come over here and look at this report for a second?”

Spock turned promptly from his station at the sound of his captain’s voice, catching sight of Jim’s bright smile before anything else. Spock nodded once and briskly walked over to stand at the side of the captain’s chair, placing a hand on the back of it yet still hyper-aware of making sure he did not touch Jim. However, Jim immediately leaned back, his bare neck resting against the knuckle of Spock’s thumb. He could not find it in himself to move away.

“So, see, it says here that Kollona is a desert planet, right? And I know we’re still a few days away from it, but I was doing some reading up on it and read that it has an extensive rainforest? Which would not make sense at all, obviously, but…” Jim’s voice faded out in Spock’s ears as he suddenly got a bright flash of thought through their skin to skin contact.

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REQUEST(S): “Tough AF Brooklyn chick is pined after by Race Higgins” - anon

“Hey could you write something with a badass girlsie who the boys are kind of afraid of? Sorry it’s kind of vague I just don’t see many SUPER badass ones. Maybe she beats up the delancey brothers by themselves and the boys are like WTF?!!! And could it be racetrack x reader? Love you tons your writing is amazing!!” - @impractical-impala

SUMMARY: In which Y/N makes Race nervous

A/N: ayyyye guess who finally wrote something? but seriously, i can’t write fight scenes??? like idk how to do that so sorry if this sucks :( also, i know Y/N isn’t like super super bad ass in this so sorry about that too, i’m not really sure how to write that either. hope you like it though!


Y/N was headed to Manhattan to deliver a message from Spot to Jack Kelly. She’d already finished selling her papes for the day, and Spot trusted her the most out of all the other Brooklyn newsies. It was a simple (stupid, in her opinion) message, but she didn’t mind taking a walk on such a nice day. The sky was blue, the sun was out, and there was a nice breeze.

She’d come to Manhattan a few times before, and if prompted she would begrudgingly admit that, besides Brooklyn, it was her favorite part of New York. It didn’t hurt that she liked a couple of the Manhattan newsies. Jack was enjoyable, Crutchie was too sweet not to like, and Specs was endearing. Then, of course, there was Racetrack Higgins, who flirted with her endlessly. She pushed him away or ignored his efforts every time, but he kept coming back. She found that she didn’t mind too much. She found she also didn’t mind that he - that all of them were a bit scared of her.

When she made it closer to the Manhattan lodge, she could feel eyes on her. On instinct, she took in her surroundings, searching for whoever was watching her. Spot made jokes a lot about how she was like a guard dog, always tense and ready to attack. Slowly, she walked towards an alley, listening to their footsteps as they followed her.

Once they were tucked into the alley, away from all people, she whipped around. In front of her stood Morris and Oscar Delancey, grinning menacingly.

“Wouldya look at that? It’s one o’ dem Brooklyn goil newsies,” Morris spoke.

“Brooklyn? Ya think she’ll put up a fight?” Oscar asked. They were acting like she wasn’t there, but their eyes stayed trained on her. She was waiting for them to move first before she did anything. If she hadn’t already guessed their intentions when they followed her into the alleyway, she sure as hell knew them now.

They both took a few steps toward her and she slowly clenched her hands into fists. The closer they got, the more she tenses up. The second Oscar’s hand brushed her arm, she landed a punch right on his jaw. He stumbled backwards, but Morris came charging toward her. He threw a punch but she dodged it, kicking him in the shin. Oscar was back up and he grabbed her from behind, locking her arms behind her back. She lifted her leg up and swung it backwards, kicking him in the crotch.

He let out a groan and fell backwards, hands covering the area she had hit. Morris came at her again, but she grabbed his suspenders and pulled him down so she could knee him in the stomach before punching him in the head. He dropped to the ground with a bloody nose and wavering consciousness. Oscar tried one more time, but all it took was one swipe at his legs with her foot and he was down.

“Woah.” She looked up to find Crutchie and Race at the opening of the alley, staring in awe at both her and the Delancey brothers lying on the ground.

“Mush came ta get us,” Race explained. “Said the Delancey brudders had followed some goil into an alley and they ain’t lookin’ too friendly.”

“We came to help,” Crutchie clarified, smiling slightly.

“Thanks, but I think I got it handled.” Crutchie laughed loudly, but Race continued to stare at her. His eyes were wide and his mouth hung open slightly. If she had been really thinking about it, she would’ve realized he looked a little love struck. “You boys wanna walk me to the lodge? I got a message from Spot for Jack.”

Race nodded quickly, closing his mouth and erasing his previous expression from his face. As they walked, Crutchie stayed slightly in front and Race and Y/N walked side by side. Every so often Crutchie would glance back at the two of them walking in silence, grin, and then shake his head and look forward again. It was no secret to the Manhattan newsies how smitten Race was with Y/N.

When they reached the lodge Y/N was taken up to the roof to talk with Jack, leaving Race staring after her. All the other boys watched him, whispering and teasing.

“I’m gonna do it,” he spoke suddenly. The boys were silenced.

“Do what?” Specs asked nervously.

“I’m gonna tell Y/N how I feel.” His face was set and he was determined to finally tell her. Immediately, there were protests from the boys.

“She’ll punch you if you even try to touch her!” Someone shouted, warning mutters of agreement.

“She could kill you!”

“I heard once that ‘er and Spot got in a fight and nobody’s seen the guy since.”

“No way! I heard they found the body washed up under da bridge.”

“Would you lot shut up?!” Everyone was silenced by Race’s outburst. He looked nervous and he was wringing his hands. “I’m tellin’ her and that’s that, so you can stop blabbering 'bout it!”


A little while later, Race was outside smoking to calm his nerves. The boys had convinced Y/N to spend the night rather than make the trek back to Brooklyn while it was gettin’ dark out. None of them doubted that she’d be able to hold her own, but Crutchie had pointed out that she looked tired and wouldn’t be at her best if something did happen. She had eventually (reluctantly) accepted the invitation.

He felt his heartbeat speed up as he thought of telling her how he felt. The boys were right, if he said the wrong thing he would most likely end up dead or severely injured. Wasn’t that some saying, though? Love hurts? Love. Because didn’t he love the way she could fight better than any boy he’d ever met? Don’t he love that she wouldn’t let anybody control her or undermine her? Didn’t he love the way she rolled her eyes when he winked at her? Didn’t he love how she hadn’t threatened him to make him stop flirting with her like she’d done to Romeo? That had to mean something good, didn’t it?

He whipped around suddenly, startled by a noise behind him. There she stood, an eyebrow and raised and her arms crossed as she looked at him.

“You got some big date comin’ up or somethin’?” She asked, joining him where he was sitting on the curb.

“W-What?” He could feel his hands start to shake slightly.

“You don’t usually smoke this late. Plus, you’re chewing that cigar like you ain’t eaten in weeks.” She wasn’t wrong, but he pleasantly surprised him that she noticed the change in his behavior.

“I actually been meanin’ to talk to ya,” he said, trying to calm his breathing. She nodded for him to continue and he took in a sharp breath. “Ya know how I’m always flirtin’ with ya?” She nodded again, furrowing her eyebrows. He could see the growing confusion in her eyes. “Well, I just - I wanted to make sure you ain’t gettin’ the wrong idea, 'cause I - ”

“I get it,” she cut him off. “You flirt with every goil, you ain’t tryin’ to settle down, blah blah blah.” She rolled her eyes but her words were harsh, and she looked almost angry. He gulped, this certainly wasn’t how he’d planned for this to go. “That all?”

“No.” She sighs and looked at him, absolutely no interest shown in her eyes. “No, no that’s not what I meant. That’s - that’s the idea I didn’t want to give you. I ain’t goin’ 'round flirtin’ with other goils, Y/N. It’s just you.” She wasn’t looking at him anymore, and she stayed silent. He felt his nerves spike up and launched into a quick ramble.

“I just mean that I really like ya, and I mean it’s fine if ya don’t like me - 'cause I really can’t expect ya to. And you know I just wanted to get it off my chest, 'cause it’s real hard bein’ 'round you and pretendin’ like I don’t have feelings for ya. You can punch me now, the boys said you would. Pretty sure that got a bet goin’ in there. Some say youse gonna hit me, other’s say I’m dead, and then, ya know, some of the boys said you had feelings for me to, which is completely -”

His anxious ramble was interrupted by her hand over his mouth. She was smiling slightly at him, amusement written all over her features.

“You’re cute when you’re nervous,” she whispered. “I’m gonna kiss you now, that okay?” He nodded quickly and she leaned in. Their lips met and it wasn’t rough like he’d expected it to be with her. She was kissing him gently, and her lips were soft. He kept his hands folded in his lap, tightly gripping his cigar. He was afraid to touch her without any spoken consent, but she had her hand cupping his cheek.

When they pulled away she laughed at the expression on his face. She looked nice when she wasn’t constantly waiting for someone to attack.

“So, who gets the money if I like you back?” She asked, smirking.

“Oh, um - just Crutchie.” He was still having trouble breathing, but for an entirely different reason. She smiled and let out another laugh at his answer.

“Perfect. He’s my favorite.”

“Not me?” Race joked, finally able to act like his non-nervous self. She grinned at the fake pout on his face.

“Sometimes,” she shrugged. He smiled and haphazardly threw his arm around her, feeling his heart pounding in his chest when she didn’t push him away.

“C'mon, lets go inside.”

Winter Shadow - chapter 4

All angst, all the time. Because I’m a right miserable bugger and I want to bring everyone down with me. Sorry about that (and that’s it’s all a bit overblown and melodramatic and why-use-one-word-when-you-can-vomit-a-thesaurus-y)x

I’m trying to keep things in the order that they happen in MCU but I’ll probably get things wrong, I’m sorry.

She was off-comms for this mission, her handlers not wanting to risk sending her in with any earpiece, anything detectable. There should have been no need, it was almost risk-free, straight in, straight out. No need to engage in combat.  No one could have foreseen the possibility that she would search for a file on Steve Rogers, that his file would link her to James Barnes, that she would she a picture of the Soldier, ‘Missing in Action’ stamped across the photo.

Mission parameters forgotten, the danger of being seen ignored, she sat and read through the file, trying to make sense of what she saw.  James Buchanan Barnes, born almost 100 years before, a soldier in the Second World War, a POW, freed by this Steve Rogers, then lost from a train, his body never found. How could this match up to the tortured assassin she knew, who caught on to fleeting scraps of memory to try and reconstruct himself.  She read and re-read the file, desperate to store as much as possible, knowing that she couldn’t take any documents back to be found, and that most memories would be wiped as soon as she returned to Hydra.

Return to Hydra… she was suddenly recalled to herself, aware that she had long outstayed her allotted time and that there would be a price to be exacted for that. For a moment, she considered running, not returning to Hydra, but the pull of the Soldier was too strong. She had to be there for him. He was her trigger, her mission, no matter what.

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Kids - John Shelby

Request: Can you plz do an john shelby imagine where he is mad at you only to feel bad later?

Request: Can you please do a John Shelby imagine on meeting his kids - @theaqueenakaspeedy

Kids - John Shelby || prequel to Stay

It had been a few months ago that you’d first met John Shelby. He had never mentioned his kids up front to you but you had grown up in Small Heath. You had heard the gossip from your mother and her friends when Martha had gotten pregnant. There had been a quick wedding but everyone in Small Heath knew the marriage was because of the baby. They had three more, Martha dying during the birth of the last one. Your parents went to the funeral but you didn’t. You were in Cambridge at university getting a fancy degree. Your mother thought it was frivolous, women were supposed to get married and have children, not get educations like men did. The war came and went and you stayed in Cambridge. You had gotten a job at a library there. You didn’t hear anymore about the Shelby family.  

In 1919 you returned home because your father had passed away. Your father, who had known everyone and was affectionately referred to as ‘the Mayor of Small Heath’, had a large gathering at his grave. You stood by your mother and, even at 25, found yourself looking around the yard at the attendees. All three of the elder Shelby boys had come along with their aunt. You found yourself watching John Shelby. He’d grown up well and had a look about him that you were sure betrayed the nature of his job.  

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Music Lessons

My father had a recurring dream over the last several years of his life. In the dream was he was standing in the middle of a green field listening to cows argue about grass. He claimed that after a while their strange cow language became a kind of music, which he eventually composed on an electronic keyboard. He felt the music was important so he played the music in our church. But when he wanted to do a repeat performance, the church thought it best to give other members a chance to share their talents. So, he played at the old folks home. They asked him to stop after about ten minutes and told him not to come back until he learned some “songs.”

Eventually, he invented 23 original musical instruments and recorded himself playing them one at a time. He performed out in the woods behind an abandoned factory, where the sound and color was just right. He intertwined all the tracks together in one big master track. He played the full  3-hour recording for our family one Saturday afternoon in a mountain lodge full of speakers he’d rented for the occasion.

The music started as a low buzzing that slowly gave birth to the entirety of sound. Mind numbing boredom transformed into bliss-inducing catatonia. The weird resonating frequency caused me to go into a trance. My brain felt like it was being stroked by a million electric feathers of pure white awareness. I lost consciousness.

When I woke up, I was in the hospital. I was completely blind. I could see nothing but blackness. But I was told my blindness was psychological. My father had killed himself after he’d shot everyone in the family. I must have fainted when he shot at me so I wasn’t hurt. Just psychologically blinded.

Apparently, there was no music. My mind had made it all up. My mind has made up a lot of things over the years, I guess. The doctor said this was because I couldn’t bear the truth. The funny thing was, in the end, my truth was really no different than anyone else’s. But for some reason, my poor little mind couldn’t handle it.

I regained my sight 3 ½ months later. One Saturday night, King Kong was on TV and I really wanted to see it. It was the 1970s King Kong with Jessica Lange and Jeff Bridges. When I heard Kong’s first roar, I could suddenly see again. I was thrilled! Still, I cried when King Kong fell to his death. I cried so hard I hid under the blankets, even though there was no one there to see me.

Gasoline: Part 6

Pairing: Jensen x Reader
Word Count:
Language, minor fluff – nothing really
You parted ways with Jensen in the hopes of staying in contact. 6 weeks after the convention, you and your friend are wondering through New Orleans and stumble into Jared and Jensen, with an equally ‘stumbling’ surprise.
I know this is totally not what you were expecting but this was legitimately the only inspiration I had for this series and to hell with it – I like where I’m taking it and I hope you do, too. Thanks for sticking around long enough to actually see me continue this series. I love you all !!!!

Feedback always appreciated. Seriously. Send me asks. And reblogs. Feed my ego pls.

Gasoline Masterlist

6 Weeks Later

“I’m telling you, JJ is a god. His voice is every angel’s halo and my lord almighty will I pray to just say hi,” you gushed to Julia.

While Julia had been a major fan of Supernatural, and even more so of a fan of Jared Padalecki, she had no clue who Kaleo was, so it was your duty to show her. Kaleo was set to play in the French Quarter for a benefit, raising money for charity and the second you heard about it, you pounced on it. You didn’t even give Julia the chance to decline, despite the fact that you two hadn’t been in the same city for 6 weeks now.

You had parted ways the morning after the convention, not too long after parting ways with Jensen, and it was hard.

You made the commitment and the promise to the both of them that you would stay in contact.

With Julia, it was easy; you two texted like best friends every damn day of the week, and she now knew every secret you’d ever had since you were born, and vice versa.

Jensen on the other hand, was harder to keep in contact with.

He sent the odd text message here and there, but honestly, it was hard. What made things harder, was the giant secret you were now keeping from him. You didn’t talk every day, but you talked at least once a week. Your most recent message was earlier today, and you were buzzing with nerves and wanting to talk to Jensen about it, but you knew it was a conversation best for in person.

For now, you were taking each day as it comes, and today just so happened to be your second favourite day of the year and you were celebrating it with your best friend.

“Which is your song again?” She asked, sipping on her slurpee as she skipped along the pavement.

The sounds of jazz music flooded your ears and you had never felt so at peace. This was your first visit to New Orleans, and you had to agree that it was one of the most beautiful places you’d ever been to. You loved the Jazz era, even more so with New Orleans’ infamous history, and so you found yourself in awe as you skipped the streets with Julia.

“Way down we go,” you quoted happily. “His voice, ahh.” Yep, you were swooning.

You grabbed Julia’s hands and started down the street, heading for the first bar you could find. It’s not that you wanted to drink, but you heard that New Orleans was all about the party, and truthfully, you wanted to sing karaoke despite your not-so-great voice and sing your worries away.

Looking up, you could see the American flag flying from its post above one of the shops, and several international flags flying above shops parallel to it. You felt like you were thrust into a street of culture. People were thriving here; there was at least another thirty people around you, bustling quickly in and out of stores. There was a man to the left of you playing a saxophone, and you quickly fished for some money from your pocket and dropped it in his case. He nodded in thanks and you smiled in return, happily following Julia back down the street as your heart swelled with pride and love.

This is what it feels like to belong, and to be happy.

Since the convention, you had taken a happier approach to life. You were no longer stressed at work, and you didn’t yell obscenities at terrible drivers and people illegally jay-walking in front of you. You took life’s punches and kept on your way. You had no idea whether Jensen had anything to do with it, or even Julia, but you were thankful for knowing them.

It was moments like these that you really became thankful for the life that you had.

“Y/N, in here! They’re not playing jazz music thank god,” Julia groaned.
You frowned. “Hey, jazz is tasteful.”
“To you, maybe. I want me some Zedd!” She clapped her hands excitedly and as soon as you walked inside the bar, the EDM music boomed all around you. The surround system had your entire being vibrating even though the actual music wasn’t very loud, but you could tell Julia was excited so you let her have it.

“I think I know this song actually,” you said.
Julia cocked her head to the side as her hips started swaying to the music. You pulled her up the front where the DJ spun the music, and you sang to her. The music was soft enough that you were able to hear yourself sing.

“I don’t care if we get too loud
Sexy, I want you now
Bet I could take you there
Whispering in your ear
What do you wanna feel?
Let’s just enjoy the thrill
I’ll take over the wheel
And give you the touch you’re missing.”

Of course, Julia was as surprised as you were that you were singing this freely, but fuck it, this is what you came here for.

“I didn’t know you could sing!”
You rolled your eyes. “Barely!”

You swayed your hips and threw your hands in the air, grabbing Julia’s hands and moving together to the music.

You suddenly felt a body move up behind you and heard a man singing the bridge of the song.
“I like the way you take me there
I like the way you touch yourself
Don’t hold back, I want that
When the water come down, I'mma get in that.”

Julia’s eyes widened and she immediately pulled away from you.

You knew that voice anywhere.

Your heart dropped in your chest and you found yourself frozen in your spot, but Julia was quick to intervene. She pushed your torso around so that you spun in front of the one man you hadn’t expected to see here tonight.
Jensen froze, his eyes widening as he took you in.

“Y/N!” Jared boomed from behind him. He swarmed in and wrapped you in his large arms, pulling your weight and crushing you to his chest as he swung you around in his bear hug. “It’s been way too long sweetheart, how have you been?!”

“Yo, give her a chance dude!” Jensen warned. “Darlin, hey.”
“Shit, uh, hey! What are you guys doing here?”
“Kaleo! You?”
“NO WAY!” Julia screamed. “We are too! Actually, Y/N is making me because I’ve never heard of them before.”

Jensen and Jared froze again, their mouths dropping open in a mixture of disgust and surprise. “They are brilliant, you’ll love them,” they both said.

“Also, buggy!” Julia said in a baby-voice as she poked Jared in the chest.”
Jared laughed awkwardly. “Ayy, ladybug! How you doin’?”
“Better now that my best friends are all together!”
Jensen frowned. “Again with the ladybug, somebody tell me!”

You and Julia erupted into a fit of giggles. “Ask Julia,” you repeated. “But seriously, I can’t believe I’m seeing you right now. I’ve … I’ve missed you.”
Jensen nodded and pulled you into a hug. “I’ve missed you too. Let’s say we all grab a drink and have dinner, huh?”

You nodded and the four of you walked to restaurant side of the bar and, with a quick talk to the waitress, grabbed the last table. You sat next to Julia and Jared, with Jensen across from you.

For the first few moments, it was awkward. Nobody quite knew what to say.

Thank god for Jared.

“Jensen and I are here for a couple days, it’ll be good to catch up. What do you say?”

“I thought you were heading to Austin yesterday?” You asked, leaning forward and fiddling with the napkin on the table.

Jensen leaned back in his chair. “Gen agreed for Jared to come to Kaleo and then head over there on Saturday, because plans changed or something. Big family BBQ isn’t until Sunday.”

“Don’t you have to work?” Piped up Julia, who was looking at the menu as if her life depended on it; the hunger in her eyes was mildly frightening.

Jensen nodded. “Next Thursday. Got a week off!” He grinned.

“And I go back then as well, so, gonna make the most of it,” Jared hollered. He reached forward for the menu and started scanning for items.

“I thought you were working, too?” Jensen scolded, but you knew he was only teasing. His eyes shone with mischief as he questioned you.
“I did last night. We both flew out super early this morning and I’ve had close to no sleep for this shit so,” you shrugged.

The waitress walked over and began taking the drink orders. As soon as everyone was finished ordering, she turned to you. “Just water, please.”
“No problem, I’ll be right back with your drinks.”
Jared raised his eyebrow. “No drink?”
“I-I don’t really feel like getting drunk. Want to remember Kaleo for all it’s gloriousness,” you stuttered. You weren’t lying.

Jensen’s mouth turned upside down but he ignored it, and you sighed in response. You felt Julia’s leg nudging you under the table and you turned to her. She leaned towards you with her menu in front of her face.
“When are you going to tell him?”
“Tell me what?” Jensen said.
You shoved the menu town and threw your hands up in the air. “Woman, you wouldn’t know quiet if it whipped you in the ass.”

You sighed again and shook your head. “It’s nothing, I’ll tell you later.”

Jensen lowered his menu and turned his full attention on you. You loved and hated when he focused all of his attention on you; his eyes sparkled in the dim light and you felt hot under his gaze. You wanted to tell him, but this was not the place nor the time. You knew you had been keeping it to yourself for too long, and you owed it to yourself and Jensen to be honest but…. godfuckdamnitshit.

“You’re not drinking, and you have something to tell me. Wait – fuck – you’re not…”

You clenched your jaw, licking your lips and rubbing a hand down your face. You could feel the unwanted emotion starting to explode within your chest and fill your eyes with tears. “I am.”
“What?” Jared asked, clearly not following.
“I’m uh… I’m pregnant.”

Gasoline Tag
@phoenixia67, @milkymilky-cocopuff, @chaos-and-the-calm67, @arryn-nyx,   @kelly-alston, @xdifsx, @ayeitsjann, @flawsweirdo, @ayeitsjann

@leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid, @sis-tafics, @winchesterprincessbride, @tmccarney, @therosecolouredpost, @gemini75eeyore @padackles2010, @jensen-gal, @yvngkinggchristyy, @manawhaat, @deans-armadillo, @pureawesomeness001, @ruprecht0420, @smoothdogsgirl, @hexparker, @mogaruke, @jayankles, @katymacsupernatural, @pinknerdpanda, @moonlitskinwalker, @feelmyroarrrr, @barneybrigade, @latishiante1001, @dreamwhisper87, @canadianjelly, @emoryhemsworth, @one-more-spn-fan-girl

Three Times Mulder and Scully Got Caught and One Time They Didn’t Care (Pt 2)

Click here for Part 1

Author: Bohoartist

Rating: Mature

Author’s Notes: Written for @xfficchallenges dialogue challenge! Mad props to @piecesofscully for planting this crazy seed in my brain and for making my shit sound good. @leiascully



“Teena! How are you? We missed you and those delicious lemon bars this afternoon.”

“Hello, Beverly, I always hate to miss the game, how did it go?”

“Oh, it went. I’m telling you, Teena, I know I am being a selfish ninny, but I absolutely dread your monthly lunch dates with Fox.”

“Oh, Bev, quit being so dramatic, it’s not becoming. And besides, Susan can’t possibly be as bad as you let on.”

“You have no idea. Susan Thomas is by far the absolute worst bridge partner I have ever had! And you heard about her son didn’t you?”

“Beverly, I don’t think–”

“I mean, the secretary? How cliche. I couldn’t believe it when I heard the news. And his wife! Oh, I just don’t understand how he could do that to her. She is absolutely gorgeous and you know she comes from old money. She’s good breeding, that one. But you know those Thomases, never happy with anything. Oh, and those poor kids.”

“Beverly, I really–”

“You know his wife is the one that found them, right? Walked right in on that secretary on her knees in the center of his corner office. The little slut didn’t even have the decency to stop suck–”


“Teena, my God! What’s gotten into you?”

“Nothing. It’s nothing, I just don’t find this topic to be appropriate for conversation, that’s all.”

“Since when? Teena? Teena, are you there?”

“Yes. I’m here.”

“Since when do we not discuss the goings on of this island? And don’t pretend like you don’t know what I’m talking about.”

“Look, I don’t want to spend anymore time discussing the sexual exploits of people’s children. Hello? Beverly?”

“…Teena…what happened today?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“What happened when you went to see Fox today?”

“I– Well, I should have called. I’m really the one at fault here. I assumed Fox remembered that I was coming over and he apparently forgot, so really, it’s my fault and I have no reason to be upset. I’m not. I’m not upset. He’s an adult, he can do as he pleases, I just…I never thought I would have to witness…that.”

“My God, what did you see?”

“Beverly, I would thank you to keep the blatant enthusiasm out of your voice.”

“I’m sorry, Teena, I don’t mean–I’m not looking for gossip, I swear.”

“I’m sorry. I just–That’s my son. My child. And no mother should ever have to see their son in bed with someone.”

“Oh, Teena, I’m so sorry! Was it horribly awkward?”

“Well, yes, at least for me. I think Fox thinks he got away with something.”

“How do you mean?”

“I had let myself into his apartment when he didn’t answer my knock. I figured he was just in the shower. I was putting my things on the coffee table when I heard it.”

“Heard what? …Teena?”

“A moan. I thought he had hurt himself so I made my way to his bedroom. He must have heard me approaching because when I arrived at his door, he was in bed, seemingly alone, although there was a large mound under the covers. I suppose he thought I would think they were pillows, but I knew better.”

“But, Teena, are you sure? I mean maybe we was, you know, alone when you heard that moan.”

“Oh, Beverly, honestly.”

“What? Grown men do it too, especially single ones.”

‘Well, I know he wasn’t alone and I even know who he was with.”

“What? How? Who?”

“Well, I wasn’t going to go into detail because I didn’t want to be tacky, but before he could pull the covers up I saw… I saw-”


“I could have sworn I saw red hair, bobbing away like a little harlot in his lap!”

“No! You don’t mean–”

“Yes! That horrible little red-headed vixen! I always knew that partner of his had a thing for Fox. It was a matter of time before she got her hooks in him.”

“Oh, Teena, I am sorry you had to see that!”

“Oh Beverly, you have no idea. Fox clearly thinks I didn’t see anything and I certainly don’t plan on changing that. I just wish he would come to his senses. You know who I miss? Who I wish he would see again?”

“Who’s that, dear?”

“Diana. Do you remember her?”

“Oh yes, Diana Fowley! You know she comes from old money too. Good breeding, that one.”

Please don’t forget Standing Rock
This is an update on Standing Rock. It’s not pleasant. You’ve been fairly warned.

Update from Standing Rock volunteer-
I have returned from Standing Rock with my mind blown, my heart broken and my spirit troubled with foreboding of a deepening tragedy. Volunteering as a legal observer with the Water Protector Legal Collective I witnessed several confrontations between Water Protectors (WP) and law enforcement: national guard, sheriffs and private security (LE).
On 1/18/17 - 1/19/17 I observed WP with their hands in the air chanting “hands up don’t shoot” being fired upon at a range of 10 to 15 feet. Tear gas canisters and rubber bullets ( rubber bullets are regular bullets covered in rubber) were used against unarmed WP who had been singing and praying. I observed national guard chasing WP off the Backwater bridge, firing at people running away. I heard people choking and gagging from tear gas. I saw access to the WP medic vehicles being blocked. I spoke with medics and WP who described bullets penetrating flesh and causing terrible injuries, including to one media person who nearly lost his finger when his camera was targeted.
I talked with a media person and was told of 4 media people on the bridge that night, 3 had their recording devices shot and the 4th, his hand. I saw a photo of a sheriff aiming a rifle directly at a media woman who was standing apart from the crowd. I heard testimony of the back of the medic pickup truck being awash in blood after evacuating wounded.
I watched, and then, inadvertently became a part of, WP being forced off the bridge by national guard who were hiding behind WP vehicles parked along the road and firing rubber bullets at fleeing people. Many people were shot in the back, the neck, the head. When LE fired at people at close range, many were shot in the genitals or in the face. I received information about DAPL security breaching the short wave radio channels of the WP with taunts such as ”come out and fight like men you faggots or we will come to Camp and fuck your women.”
There are some young warriors, who, without the support of their elders, many who want the camps cleared to mitigate the economic and social damage being suffered by the local community in having the bridge closed, have vowed to not leave the camps or to let the last section of pipeline be built.
Driving away from the area on Monday I saw a convoy of construction vehicles heading to the drill pad. Last night an indigenous website live streamed reports of drilling and construction noises coming from the drill pad.
Without the eyes of a free press these attacks and trespasses continue, with the human rights and sovereignty of indigenous peoples denied. The UN Committee on Transnational Corporations and Human Right Abuses was in Standing Rock this week to take testimony of the many transgressions against people: crop dusters spraying poison pesticides and fertilizers on the camps; hair samples indicating the presence of these chemicals; people who have been injured, beat up, arrested, strip searched; media and medics being targeted by snipers; (one medic told me he stopped wearing his Red Cross vest due to medics being targeted); praying people being attacked and the refusal of DAPL and our government to abide by the Rule of Law.
The vets who came in Dec to stand down against these crimes need to be on the ground there now, right now. We need to stand up for our brothers and our sisters, for their way of life and, I believe, for our social contract as a democracy which is now threatened.
Please share this so word gets out what is happening, thank you.
Deborah MacKay
This is copy-pasted. If you choose to share, please do the same.

The Song

Description: Sherlock invites you over for a mystery meeting and you discover there is more to say about the song he plays on his violin. 

Characters: SherlockXReader

Triggers: Fluff


Meet me at 221 Baker Street. 6 PM. 

The text message read, it was from Sherlock, and nothing further was mentioned. How odd? You think. Sherlock wasn’t the one to call a meeting so short notice, however, that man was as unpredictable. 

That’s fine. 

You text back unsure where this might lead but a slightly ray of hope echoes through your mind. 

When you arrive only Sherlock is in the flat overlooking his favorite window the one nearest to the sofa. He was deep in thought but once you made your presents known he turned to look at you with his charming crinkled smile. 

“Have a seat”, he gestures to John’s chair. 

“Okay but what is all this about?” You ask. 

He simply smirks and picks up his precious violin. 

“I wrote a song yesterday, I thought you might line it”, Sherlock replies. His expression holds a secret that only he knows the contents of. 

“Alright then, get on with it”, you say.

He begins to play and the sweet sound echos throughout the small flat sitting room. It sweeps over you as Sherlock closes his eyes becoming consumed with the action of playing. You have never heard anything like this, it was something words could not place but what moved you the most was Sherlock. The way he played the song as if it were the last song he would ever play. You could feel his soul being poured into every note and when it ended you couldn’t help but feel a wash of sadness.  

For a brief moment there is a silence that hangs. You try to collect your thoughts so you could put together a coherent sentence but nothing comes out. 

“What do you think”?  He asks with a hint of insecurity in his tone. 

“I…I…Oh, Sherlock that was amazing. You wrote that?” You scrabble to find the right words. 

He laughs in relief taking his violin back to its place. Another pause occurs before Sherlock speaks again, this time he looks visibly nervous. 

“I wrote it for you”, he says. His eyes filled with hope and they seemed to light brighter than when he talks about dead bodies under bridges. 

“I’m sorry, I think I miss heard you”, you manage to reply. 

“The song I just played was written by me with you in mind. I call it Summer Under Her Moon, I sounds a bit…” 

Before he could finish you jump up wrapping your arms around him and placing a gently kiss on his lips. Something you thought of doing daily but with Sherlock it was sometimes only temporary. 

“Did you like it”? He asks.

“Yes, every much”, you respond. 

jrrtolkiennerd  asked:

Two things in the entire fandom make me tear up a little. The first is the first elves marching into Helm's Deep in the TT film, the second is Shaw reciting Eonwë's speech to Eärendil. 'Hail Eärendil, of mariners most renowned, the looked for that cometh at unawares, the longed for that cometh beyond hope! Hail Eärendil, bearer of light before the Sun and Moon! Splendour of the Children of Earth, star in the darkness, jewel in the sunset, radiant in the morning!'


Unrelated, I cannot remember which battle it is in the silm (Nirnaeth Arnoediad maybe? I’m probably wrong and I don’t have my copy in front of me to check) but anyway there’s like an Elvish battle cry that happens and I vividly remember the first time I heard MS read that part because I was driving OVER A BRIDGE and almost wrecked because THE FEELS WERE OVERPOWERING.

“Please don’t forget Standing Rock
This is an update on Standing Rock. It’s not pleasant. You’ve been fairly warned.
Update from Standing Rock volunteer-

I have returned from Standing Rock with my mind blown, my heart broken and my spirit troubled with foreboding of a deepening tragedy. Volunteering as a legal observer with the Water Protector Legal Collective I witnessed several confrontations between Water Protectors (WP) and law enforcement: national guard, sheriffs and private security (LE).
On 1/18/17 - 1/19/17 I observed WP with their hands in the air chanting “hands up don’t shoot” being fired upon at a range of 10 to 15 feet. Tear gas canisters and rubber bullets ( rubber bullets are regular bullets covered in rubber) were used against unarmed WP who had been singing and praying. I observed national guard chasing WP off the Backwater bridge, firing at people running away. I heard people choking and gagging from tear gas. I saw access to the WP medic vehicles being blocked. I spoke with medics and WP who described bullets penetrating flesh and causing terrible injuries, including to one media person who nearly lost his finger when his camera was targeted.
I talked with a media person and was told of 4 media people on the bridge that night, 3 had their recording devices shot and the 4th, his hand. I saw a photo of a sheriff aiming a rifle directly at a media woman who was standing apart from the crowd. I heard testimony of the back of the medic pickup truck being awash in blood after evacuating wounded.
I watched, and then, inadvertently became a part of, WP being forced off the bridge by national guard who were hiding behind WP vehicles parked along the road and firing rubber bullets at fleeing people. Many people were shot in the back, the neck, the head. When LE fired at people at close range, many were shot in the genitals or in the face. I received information about DAPL security breaching the short wave radio channels of the WP with taunts such as ”come out and fight like men you faggots or we will come to Camp and fuck your women.”
There are some young warriors, who, without the support of their elders, many who want the camps cleared to mitigate the economic and social damage being suffered by the local community in having the bridge closed, have vowed to not leave the camps or to let the last section of pipeline be built.
Driving away from the area on Monday I saw a convoy of construction vehicles heading to the drill pad. Last night an indigenous website live streamed reports of drilling and construction noises coming from the drill pad.
Without the eyes of a free press these attacks and trespasses continue, with the human rights and sovereignty of indigenous peoples denied. The UN Committee on Transnational Corporations and Human Right Abuses was in Standing Rock this week to take testimony of the many transgressions against people: crop dusters spraying poison pesticides and fertilizers on the camps; hair samples indicating the presence of these chemicals; people who have been injured, beat up, arrested, strip searched; media and medics being targeted by snipers; (one medic told me he stopped wearing his Red Cross vest due to medics being targeted); praying people being attacked and the refusal of DAPL and our government to abide by the Rule of Law.
The vets who came in Dec to stand down against these crimes need to be on the ground there now, right now. We need to stand up for our brothers and our sisters, for their way of life and, I believe, for our social contract as a democracy which is now threatened.
Please share this so word gets out what is happening, thank you.
Deborah MacKay”

for @hermioneandtom bc it’s her birthday!!!!!go wish her happy birthday y’all. she’s the sweetest ever and this is for her.

so also this is a multi chap that i just started: filed under: why do i do this???to myself??staring multi chaps just gives me headache but i love drarry, okay?

 resonance: chapter one.


The room was dim, dark, only lit by the faint, fading light of the lightbulb fizzing and crackling and popping against the ceiling, and Harry Potter, savior, Boy-who-Lived, blinked and shifted, his vision blurring and then slowly, finally, he thought, coming into focus.

“Okay?” his best friend, Hermione Granger said, appearing from behind him, all dark, bushy hair and burnt gold eyes that glistened and caught in the receding light.

He licked his lips, swallowed, felt something press and pound and crush painfully against his throat.

No, he wanted to say, no, i’m not okay, now that everything had built up to the war, to magic and bloodshed and fire, and now that it’s over, now that people are dead and beneath the ground, now that it’s over, i feel empty, hollowed out.

But instead, he shook his head and gave her a slight grin

“Of course,” he breathed. “I’m just nervous for the trial, I guess.”

Hermione sighed, her gaze condescending, reprimanding almost, but she said nothing as she licked the length of her tongue and ran it along his hair.

“Lost cause, my hair is,” he said, as Hermione huffed impatiently at the tufts of black hair that shot up at the removal of her thumb, sharp, coarse, electric. “Don’t bother. It’s always been like that.”

Her eyes softened slightly, and she almost looked like she was about to cry, and Harry looked about in confusion, trying thinking of something to say, but instead she threw her arms around him and pulled him close.

“Everything,” Hermione whispered, “is going to be alright. You’ll finish this, and we’ll be able to…breathe. Now that it’s over.”

Now that it’s over.


So this is the aftermath of war, Harry said, as he settled into his seat near the front of the Council and raked his eyes over the convicted.

The was Avery, sitting at the very left, eyes red, shoulders slumped back; he was running his fingers along the invisible binding on his wrists, pulling, scratching, but all to no avail; and then there was Antonin Dolohov, staring at the floor, fists clenched, red lines drawn across his skin.

Harry turned and saw Lucius Malfoy in the middle, light hair flying and whipping in the air of the room, eyes bloodshot as he looked towards his son Draco, to which Harry was just turning towards, towards the edge of the room––––

Draco Malfoy was staring right at him.

Harry inhaled and held his gaze, staring into steel grey eyes that were as cold and harsh and weak somehow, and gone was the boy who had laughed and been a blur of blond hair and snark, of green robes and pale skin splitting open in an vacant bathroom, the floor stained a deep, dark crimson, instead in it’s place was a shadow of who once was, all edges and sharp points and a tiredness that radiated off him in waves, of a boy now cold by war and blood and avada kedavra.

Harry shivered slightly and turned away, his breath catching in his chest, in the space between his ribs and turned to Ron Weasley, his other best friend, who was now playing half heartedly with a snitch, tossing it in the air and catching it lightening fast with his quidditch reflexes, his stitch.

“Hey,” Harry hissed, but not harshly, and Ron jumped and placed the snitch gingerly on the table.

“Sorry, mate,” Ron said, eyes gazing around the room. “Just a little distracted, I guess. A room full of ex-Death Eaters do that to you.”

Harry nodded and Ron began speaking of the trials, of Hermione, to which she responded I can HEAR you, Ronald, and he wasn’t paying attention, not really, not when there was this feeling at the very bottom of his stomach that he couldn’t quite shake when he looked at Draco Malfoy, and when he looked back.

“Ironic, isn’t it?” Hermione said softly from behind him, caressing his shoulder. “that after all these years, after Malfoy being your arch nemesis and all, of him treating us like absolute garbage for the whole of our education, that you’re speaking on behalf of him.”

Ron made a noise at the back of his throat. “You don’t have to do this, Harry. Him, he doesn’t deserve any of this.”

Hermione shot him a glare that was a sharp as bomb shards and shrapnel, and Ron flinched back visibly, leaning back into his seat.

“Malfoy, Malfoy’s stupid, okay? And reckless and he makes all the wrong choices for all the wrong reasons, but in the end, in the end, he was––“

“He was young, Hermione,” Ron shot back. “Well, so were we.”

He was about to say something, about how they still were young, how somehow the war had made all of them old, aged, but someone was calling his name at the front and he could feel the gasps in the crowd that gathered in the back, flashing lights and Quick Notes Quill that began scribbling furiously once he stood up and began to make his way to the front.

“Wish me luck,” he said to Ron and Hermione, and didn’t look back.


He stepped on to the pedestal and watched the faces in front of him, of Narcissa Malfoy, who was watching with grey colored eyes and hollowed cheeks drained completely of colour, she was sitting with her thumb carving scarlet lines into her thigh while she turned towards her husband and her son, both downing  vials of clear, clear vitaserum with bloodshot eyes and past aristocrat grace and litheness, of a past lost, and then before Harry could comprehend the way his head span when Draco Malfoy ran his robe sleeve across his mouth in one fluid, sweeping motion, the wizard at the front cleared his throat and said, you can begin, Mr. Potter, and he began.

Harry spoke of bitter rivals, of a blond boy with a Nimbus 2001 whizzing through the air past him, of skin split open in an empty bathroom, water running red with blood,of the boy who had stood at the astronomy tower, wand poised, voice trembling, of Narcissa Malfoy’s breath against his chek, feverishly hot while she she pressed two fingers against his wrist and whispered, isDracointhecastleisdracointhecastleis—

When he finished, he glanced at Ron and Hermione,Ron who had is mouth slightly agape, one eyebrow raised and Hermione,whose eyes were glittering and looked proud, and felt relief wash over him, finally, finally, it was over.


“Is it true, Harry,” Dumbledore said, “that you are going to speak on behalf of Draco Malfoy at his trial?”

Harry inhaled sharp, sharp oxygen, his lungs burning and scorching and cremating beneath his chest.

“Yes,” he said, fingers brushing the gold pf the portrait frame, eyes downcast. “It’s complicated,really, Hermione roped me into it actually,she felt like Malfoy deserved forgiveness, redemption, didn’t deserve to spend the rest of his life rotting in Azkaban.”

“And what do you think,Mr.Potter?”Dumbledore asked softly, eyes gleaming, cobalt blue in stained, glassy watercolors.

Harry thought of Draco Malfoy at the Manor, chin pointed, eyes red red red, faded somehow, how he held himself as if there was bullets caught in his skin, in the velvet green folds of his robes, as if there was arsenic in his veins.

“I think,” Harry began carefully, “that I don’t know what to think. Everyone is making conclusions, of people being good or evil or on the right side and he’s not in either category. He was a terrible person, you know, a right headed prat when we were in school, he was the kind of person who would poison your pumpkin juice out of pure spite, he would push me off my broom when we were playing quidditch if he had the chance, that’s the kind of person he is. But I can’t hate him, no matter how much of an idiot he was, and I don’t know what that means.

Dumbledore sighed slightly, pushed his half moon spectacles further up the narrow bridge of his nose.

“I know that you’ve heard this before,” the older said. “But Draco Malfoy was young—”

Harry felt blood rush to the side of his face.

“So was I,” he hissed, “so were all of us. And yet—”

I’ve always wondered what it was like,” Dumbledore stated, “growing up, isolated but from few families, seeing the world separated ,divided  by blood purity, being taught that you were superior, that the rest of the world was inferior, that the Dark Lord was the only way to greatness, to success and power, and all at once realizing that the world was more complex than the way your family taught you but being caught in this war before it could catch up to you.”

Harry’s breathing became harsh, and his breath was caught in his throat while he stated at the portrait.

“In the end,” Dumbledore said. “He was just a boy.”

Harry searched his mind for that cold, freezing night nearly three years ago, of his body anchored to the ground,magic rooting his veins in place while he screamed and screamed and screamed until his throat was raw and blood, thick with phlegm,of when Malfoy had pointed his wand at Dumbledore and Harry thought it was something out of one of his nightmares.

I have to do this, Draco Malfoy said, shivering, or else he’ll kill me.

Draco,Dumbledore had whispered back, I once knew a boy who made all of the wrong choices.



The air was thin in the air as Harry soared higher, higher still,feeling oxygen and hitrotrodgen reverberate and echo through the marrow of his bones, and he felt the world fade and blur beneath him, there was nothing but the flutter of gold at the edge of gleaming green bushes and the burning orange of the Ginny’s hair, the faint splatter of gold freckles across the bridge of Ron’s nose.

“Got it,” he breathed, laughing,as he extended his fingers and the snitch fell and tumbled into his grasp.

Bugger,” Ginny screamed, rushing towards him in a blur of yellow and gold, nearly knocking him to the ground. “I swear—”

Her eyes were like the bright surface of dark, dark chocolate, and all at once, the days of blush tinted cheeks and frenzy kisses behind the dark, fading shadows of the Forbidden Forest, of his hands searching desperately  for hers and finding the warmth of her fingertips somewhere in the middle,nails running across skin as their hands intertwined and they faced the world, fierce, fearless, all of it seemed far out of reach, buried in the place where their childhood lay, firebolts and snowy Christmases and the familiar click of thestal heels, of lost youth.

They had broken up nearly four months ago in an empty muggle playground; she was swinging upside down on a rusted swing set and he was sitting on top of monkey bars while they spoke.

She was the thing that he clung to during the haze of war,of blood and ash falling from the sky, but once the war had ended, once his childhood had ended, everything about her that made his heart ache had faded, had receded into an echo of what once was.

And to her, he was the saviour, the Boy who Lived, the boy she had loved for almost all her life, who had rooted in her mind as the epitome of a hero, brave and unfaltering as he stood in a battlefield of fire and ash instead of the broken, bloody boy that he was.

Now that—she had said. Now that it’s over.  

Friends? He had said, meaning it with all that he was.

No, Ginny replied, hair askew, fluttering in the rise and fall of the wind before breaking into a bright, bright smile.  Best friends.

“All of you!” Molly Weasley yelled from beneath them, breaking Harry out of his trance. “Dinner! And letters!”

Harry settled into his seat and nearly reeled at the amount of owls, milky white and deep burgundy and bright, bright orange staring with huge, clear eyes at him, letters held in their beaks, and Harry felt a nostalgic pull at the bottom of his rib cage that expanded through the rest of his chest, of a metal, rusting cage and of Hedwig, a blur of ivory and amber, racing through the air.

“Oh, oh!” Hermione, who had already opened her letter, red wax seal still intact, said from next to him. “Harry, we can go back!”

“Hermione, you’re saying it like it’s a bloody good thing,” Ron said harshly, taking a sip of pumpkin juice. “We still have to take NEWTS, which will probably kill us all.”

Harry took the letter from the owl’s beak and tore apart the envelope, Hermione screeching slightly as the seal broke and lay discarded, a disfigured pile of smudged crimson wax on the kitchen floor.

Dear Mr. Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted into the eighth year program—a strictly optional program designed especially for seventh year students unable to attend the two-thousand-and-one term due to participation in the Second Wizarding War—at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Please find enclosed a list of necessary books and equipment below.

Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl confirming your enrollment by no later than 31 July.


Minerva Mcgonagall.

“I can’t believe we’re all going back to school,” Hermione said, slinging her arm around his shoulders. “It’s going to be like the old days all over again!”

Ron shook his head fervently, hair untangling and loosening and falling in front of his face,cascading in thin, fine strands a blazing, burning red.

“She makes it sound like we had fun,” he said, nose wrinkling. “Which we did, but you almost died about six times, which was the entire period of your magical education.”

He tilted his head back slightly and laughed, feeling sunlight seep through the window, glittering and warm and bright, bright gold, and he closed his eyes and shifted just so, just so, so the light was reflecting off the chipped, black edges of his glasses and warmth was spreading from his skin to the blood rushing, coursing through the purple and blue lines of his veins, so sunlight cast crepuscular, crystalline silhouettes onto the glass of the windowsill.

“Of course I’m going,” Harry said, wrinkled his nose slightly as Hermione eyes lit up.  

Ron rolled his eyes, groaned around the flaky pastry in his mouth.

“We’re going,” he repeats. “But only for the food. And quidditch, maybe. And to see the look on Draco fucking Malfoy’s face–––”

Language,” Molly Weasley hissed between clenched teeth. “You were not raised by savages.”



He stood in the middle of King’s Cross Station, fingers braced tightly against his cart, skin scraping against steel as his teeth made it’s way towards his mouth, canines pressed against the inside of his cheek, hard enough that he could taste salt and iron and––

“Harry,” Hermione said, fingers brushing the back of his neck, and he jumped. “The train is boarding soon. Let’s go.”

“Yeah,” he fumbles for a second, shifts his gaze towards the crowd gathered near the entrance, red lipstick on red, red cheeks and owls teetering underneath metal cages and there’s a flash of it, of his first year, and the second, cutting through his conscious in bruising, sharp clarity like the poised edge of a blade, of him with his eyes fixated on the windows of the train car, wishing there was someone he could say goodbye to.

He blinks and his eyesight clears, snapping into focus. “Where’s Ron?”

“Probably with Cormac McLaggen,” she says. “They went to find an empty compartment, I think?”

“Hermione,” Harry said carefully. “You’re not–––You’re okay with the two of them?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Hermione said, a little bittle, teeth clenched. “Ron dating Cormac McLaggen of all people––that insufferable prat who has his head so far up in his ass that he could probably see his undigested breakfast, why would I be unhappy?”


Kidding,” she beamed as she threw her trunk onto the train, metal scraping across the platform in a harsh, harsh screech. “Ron and I just didn’t, didn’t work out, and he’s happy, isn’t that what matters most? And McLaggen’s ego has shrinked measurably, can you believe we can actually have conversations with him without him bringing up himself every six seconds?”

Harry grinned, the curve of his mouth tugging up as he followed her into the compartment, settling next to Hermione and across from McLaggen and Ron, who had his fingers trapped in the gleaming waves of his hair, mouth pressed against skin and Harry glances away because this feels strangely intimate, and settles in the seat next to Hermione, whose smile has gone slightly sharp, acrid, but amiable nonetheless.

She clears her throat, and Ron pulls away with a harsh inhale of breath, staring dizzyingly at McLaggen as he leans back further into the seat, fingernails pounding against steel in a steady, palpitating rhythm that sets Hermione’s teeth on edge.

Harry stares at the ground awkwardly for a second before saying in an attempt to ignite conversation, “Funny, isn’t it? How we’re all going back to school again? I feel rather old.”

“Yes, interesting,” McLaggen says, yawning. “Especially for you, Harry. You’re going to have quite the fanbase, I suppose.”

Hermione rolls her eyes at this.

“You know,” Ron sneers, and Harry already feels a headache forming between the spaces of his skull, amplifying, intensifying, underneath the Hogwart’s Express hurtling forward on it’s trail. “We were at Diagon Alley earlier, and about six or seven witches cornered him and asked for an autograph, and one of them actually offered six thousand galleons for Harry to feature in a role playing –––”

“I will kill you.”

“It was disgustingly inappropriate,” Hermione says, flinching slightly at the memory. “If you really wanted him to role play some kinky dark lord role play, any person with a modicum of decent sense would have send him an owl!”


McLaggen is positively howling now.

Oh,” Ron moans, all high pitched and shot through with a whimper that breaks on the syllable. “Oh, Stupefy me, daddy.”

Harry spins abruptly, robes whipping in his wake, and collides his fist with the hollow of Ron’s collarbones, knuckles aligned with the curve of violet blue veins embedded beneath skin, hot, sloshing blood surging beneath the surface, across the indentations and Ron hisses and pulls back at the fervor.

“It’s okay if you two are into, er, this particular roleplay,” Harry wiggles his eyebrows. “You could’ve told me, Ron, if I turned you on so much.”

“I see there is an urgent need of subject change,” Hermione says, voice laced through with hysteria.

That’s exactly when Draco Malfoy passes by. The world stutters, stills, splits, he can feel it crack through the air like the aftereffect of a bullet, clicked into place, aimed towards target, waiting, waiting for a signal, waiting for an alarm, a warning, to let forth chaos, waiting for the detonation, and when he turns and pins his gaze on Harry’s, Harry holds it.

“Potter,” he says curtly, like it hurts, like Harry’s tearing razor blades into his wrist, watching blood bloom onto surface like red, red blossoms bursting through soil.

He wants to say something, anything at all, I’m sorry, runs through his nerve endings like carpal tunnel, numbness eroding at his bloodstream, all nausea and dizzyness and ache that bruises, tears at his lungs, and he falters, mouth parting and closing in search of words, but all that spills from between his teeth is sharp, stark silence that lingers. I’m sorry, I’m sorry that your father was convicted. I’m sorry you made all the wrong choices. I’m sorry I spoke in court. I’m shouldn’t–––

Malfoy looks tired, there’s fatigue imprinted underneath his eyes, marking his veins in black and blue, a constellation of weariness mapped across skin, and he looks lost, like he’s running from something that doesn’t exist, or perhaps running towards it, he doesn’t know why, but Harry can’t look away.

And Malfoy stares back, eyes like ruthless, unrelenting steel, mercury dripping across glass, irises gleaming underneath the illumination of the train car, and Harry swallows, and it’s like swallowing arsenic––lethal underneath the slope of his throat, tearing through flesh until he tastes salt and metal, when he realizes that his teeth have been clenching down around the inside of his mouth, canines sunk into the soft of his cheek until blood runs through his molars.

He looks away.

“Harry,” Hermione begins, fingers on his robes. “You didn’t–––you did the right thing.”

“Yeah,” he says, feigning a smile. “Sure. I don’t really want to talk about it.”


The millisecond that Harry walks into the Great Hall is when it all descends into chaos.

There’s a swarm of students that lunge towards him, like he’s prey, all screeches and breathless confessions and sixteen thousand voices, a cacophony of flashbulbs and tearing parchment and snapping quills that converge and settle through his skin like an undercurrent of sharp, sharp electricity, of eyes fixating on the fading scar on his forehead, and he smiles, like he should.

And it’s all too bright, too loud, of everything intensified, amplified and he wants it to stop.

“It’s school for chrissake,” Hermione says and Ron gives her an odd look. “Do they have to do this every time?”

“You would think I would be used to it by now,” Harry says, plopping down on his seat, once the crowd has somewhat diminished.

“How can someone get used to that,” Ron shakes his head, and Hermione furrows her brow at him when the speech begins.

“….as we begin the term with heavy hearts as we have lost many loved ones; family members, friends, strangers perhaps, but we will also begin with triumph, for we know that we are always stronger, together,” McGonagall is saying, and there’s a round of applause at that, Ginny’s eyes are glinting, eyelashes aglow with diamond lined prisms. “That is why House Unity is especially important, at such a time like this. This is why we will begin a new housing requirement, in which Eighth Year students will be required to room with students of a differing House.”

What, Harry mouths to Hermione, and she shrugs, also bewildered. What the fuck?

“Your roommates will be in the envelope in front of you,” she adds, just as an ivory envelope appears next to his metal platter. “You may now open them.”

It’s as if he almost expects it; he breaks the wax seal with his teeth, red caught between the front row, and he grimaces at the rancidness, extracting wax with his fingernails when he hears Hermione shriek, “Pansy Parkinson!”

“Ernie Macmillan,” Ron reads, mouth full. “That’s great! Ernie! We’re roommates! For a second I thought I was going to get someone terrible, like Malfoy or––”

“Who’d you get, Harry?” Hermione asks, snatching the envelope out of his fingers. “I bet it’s Justin, I have pretty good intuition.”

Written in dark, dark ink seeped across the expanse of white, creamy stationary is a name that sends Hermione reeling, but all that washes over Harry is deadly, vicious calm, the silence before a hurricane.

Draco Malfoy.

prob will have this on ao3 soon so look out for that!! i’m at hartxfriar by the way (on ao3)