cathartic or something

6

It was morning in the village where YOCHEVED lived with her three children, Miriam, Aaron, and Moses.  On this morning, terror filled the streets.  Egyptian soldiers roamed the village, searching for infants and snatching them from their mothers’ arms.  To save Moses’ life, Yocheved knew she must escape unnoticed.

Her heart filled with  f a i t h  and  l o v e, Yocheved carefully made her way from the village to the river.  As MIRIAM and AARON looked on, she knelt down beside the waters of the Nile and placed MOSES in a woven basket.

anonymous asked:

Lex is killed in prison. Lena's reaction is a lot more than she thought it would be but she tries to deal on her own so Kara comes to comfort her

AO3 LINK


The news breaks on Twitter first, and then later on the national news. Lena doesn’t hear about it until she’s walking out of a marketing meeting and checks her phone.

It doesn’t register right away. The words seem so benign as they flash at her from multiple notifications on the screen.

LEX LUTHOR FOUND DEAD

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anonymous asked:

Prompt: During Crystal Venom, Corrupted!Alfor and Coran are canonically on the bridge together. What would corrupted!Alfor say to him?

Ok, so since I actually know this was @reidluver now, I’m gonna go ahead and tag you.  :P  Also, sorry for how long this took, only no, I’m not, because it’s also like twice as long as I’d planned.  But the actual canonical scene started with Corrupted!Alfor ordering Coran and the others to stay away from his daughter and how could I not?  I mean, holy crap, Voltron, are you trying to kill me?  Anyway, I hope this is at least half as much fun to read as it was to write, because I am a not-so-secret drama queen and I definitely needed this.


Stay away from my daughter!

The words hit Coran like a blow to the gut.  Allura’s voice, too dreamy and too high and too unreal, was bad enough, but this - he stopped in his tracks, clenching his jaw as he breathed in through his nose and tried not to let the pain show.  After a breath, he could work out what was happening.  "The crystal must have corrupted King Alfor’s artificial intelligence. It’s taking over!“  

His chest felt tight, but he’d be lying if he didn’t admit he’d been uncomfortable with the AI even before.  He’d been Alfor the way he was when he knocked Allura out and put her in a pod, not Alfor the way he was at the very, very end, and it had hurt to watch him, to know that the Alfor in front of him wasn’t just artificial, but incomplete, to know that this Alfor wasn’t the one who had finally, finally run out of hope and gone back into the fight anyway, leaving him behind.

At least the unreality of this AI was obvious.  Alfor had gone to face Zarkon alone, but first he had looked him in the eye, holding his elbow steadily, in the grip of a brother-in-arms, and made him swear to take care of Allura.  Even the old AI Alfor had never done that, had never committed him into her service, had never committed her into his care.  Perhaps the old AI had known he would, or could, or might, but he hadn’t.  This new Alfor - no.  This new AI wasn’t Alfor at all.  Not if he was trying to keep them apart.

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Cute Librarian - Jason Todd x Reader

Prompt: What about Jay coming home to his SO rearranging their bookcase(s)? Like IDK if they got bored, tired of the mess, or are in need of something cathartic, but Jay just comes home to them surrounded with stacks of books and he starts helping. Good old fashioned domestic bookworm fluff

Jason was welcomed home to a loud crash sounding out in the other room. Immediately he was on edge, ready to defend himself.

“Fuck! Seriously?” You groaned out from the same direction that the loud noise came from. Jason’s guard lowered and shook his head in amusement at you. He wasn’t even close to prepared to the sight he would see when he turned the corner.

You were sitting amongst stacks upon stacks of books cross legged as collected the books that had just fallen out of their stack. You were in your most comfortable sweats and one of Jason’s oversized hoodies with your hair carelessly thrown into a messy bun. It was the most beautiful sight that Jason had ever seen.

“What are you doing?” He asked with a chuckle.

“I’m trying to sort our books. I was trying to find Pride and Prejudice the other and I couldn’t find it so I figured I’d make some sort of sense out of our collections so that I don’t have to search too hard ever again.” You replied cheerily as you sorted the books into whatever system you had come up with.

Our collection?” He asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah our collection. I figured I’d marry our collections! I’m over here enough that it just makes sense. Don’t you want to have a collection large enough to rival that of Bruce Wayne?” You asked temptingly. Something ached deep in Jason’s thought at the thought of you being committed enough to want to leave all of your books at his place. He liked the idea of the two of you settling down like this more than he’d care to admit.

“You hate it don’t you?” You asked after Jason didn’t respond. Your voice sounded hurt and rejected.

“No, no! It’s not that! I love that you’re moving your collection here it’s just … shouldn’t we be living together before you go and mess with how I organize my books?” He asked.

“I was kind of hoping this would be a big enough hint that I wanted to take that next step with you.” You admitted, toying at the indented script at the spine of his copy of Crime and Punishment. Jason found himself a place to sit amongst all the books and took your hand in his, gently squeezing to get your attention.

“Yeah, let’s do it.” He said.

“Really?” You asked. Jason nodded in response. You let out an excited squeal and threw yourself at him. Jason was knocked backwards at the force of your embrace and he fell on a pile of books, causing them to slide everywhere. He was pretty sure it was your worn copy of The Canterbury Tales that was stabbing him in the back right now. Any thoughts of discomfort fell away when you started peppering his face with kisses.

“Hey babe?” He asked when he attempted to shift his body to a more comfortable position only to have three more books painfully press themselves against his back.

“Yeah?” You asked, completely unaware.

“I love you but I’m pretty sure Moby Dick is halfway up my ass right now.” Jason said, wincing slightly.

“Oh!” You cried, immediately getting off of him. “Sorry.” You apologized sheepishly. Jason sat up and pushed a strand of hair that had fallen out of your bun behind your ear.

“It’s alright, really. So how are we sorting these?” Jason asked looking around at the seemingly mismatched piles of books.

“I’ve been sorting them by genre and then alphabetizing them by author.” You explained.

“What was wrong with the system I was using?” Jason asked. You snorted in response and continued on with the section that you were sorting before Jason got home.

“Jay. You had no system. You had the Kamasutra next to Lord of the Flies and fucking Metamorphosis next to the Anna Karenina. I’m pretty sure that defies so many laws of nature.” You criticized.

“Everything had it’s place and I knew it’s place. It worked out.” He defended with a casual shrug.

“Can we try it my way for now?” You asked.

“Of course.”

3

Ugh, I really need to start a better organizing system. 

Sorry I completely forgot to post my weekly sketch last week, but to compensate I have these baby troll inked sketches! (technically a sequel to this since they are older and can stand xD)

Next week’s sketches will be more exploring hopefully, just hoping I won’t get too swamped once school kicks in ^^
(ocs also belong to @datwolfmonraz and @flynneware)

im-a-closet-narnian  asked:

Can you please write a lil something about drunk marauders + Lily? With a little jily and wolfstar if it fits? ❤

this is probably, like, not what you had in mind, but here you go babe:

  • sixth year, may. 
  • another attack.
  • at least they think it’s another attack.
  • the prophet is shit on a good day, and this morning is no exception. nothing. a fifth year gryffindor girl was pulled out of school the day before, though, so the whispers are rampant.
  • the whispers grow all day, and even after james has tried to distract himself with his broomstick, and chess, and the match, he jumps when the evening prophet owl taps at the common room window.
  • he flips to page 7. the obits.
  • always look in the obituaries, that’s what they’ve learned. (the evening prophet didn’t even used to run them, but there are too many, any more, to keep them limited to one edition.)
  • and, yeah. seven people, all from the same town. two families. no cause of death mentioned, 
  • but they know.
  • the worst part is–aside from the girl’s parents, and her younger brother–is her older brother.
  • because they know him. he was three years above them. former prefect. decent bloke. he and james played quidditch together. he’s waving at them, oblivious and unknowing. cheerful. it’s perverse. 
  • it makes james want to throw up. he runs upstairs to grab ogden’s instead. reckless, but who’s going to stop him?
  • lily’s not stupid. she saw the prophet come, and the boys pale. 
  • it’s not like she’s been dropping any eaves, but they weren’t exactly quiet about it, were they?
  • and lily wants to throw up, because she knew it was another attack. she knew it the moment mcgonagall had her fetch sarah from her potions class. 
  • and sarah knew, too. that walk to mcgonagall’s office was the worst she’s ever had to endure.
  • she’s tutored sarah in charms for the entire term, and her entire family is gone. what will happen to her now?
  • she watches potter return with an ogden’s-shaped-bottle stuffed not so discretely under a crumpled copy of transfiguration today.
  • they make eye contact, and he raises his chin, defiant. 
  • like she’s going to report him? when has she ever?
  • she mimes taking a swig.
  • it’s not her place, right? to intrude. but it looks, frankly, damn appealing. rude to drink in the common room and not share.
  • lily doesn’t even say anything to her mates, she just crosses the common room and plops down next to peter on the sofa.
  • her mates, though, who have either pretended not to watch this entire thing unfold, or shamelessly watched it with rapt fascination, follow closely behind.
  • sirius produces mugs from nowhere, the bastard, making a loud, unsubtle comment about hot choclate for all. and remus, the bastard, fills their mugs nearly to overflowing with some brilliant refilling charm. and potter, the bastard, charms each of their mugs to actually look like hot chocolate. peter adds marshmallows and steam. for affect, he says. the bastard.
  • how often have they done this?
  • it doesn’t matter, because lily can’t get sarah’s face out of her head, or her chattering voice, or her brilliant smile with slightly crooked teeth. 
  • lily wonders about her dog, who she mentioned in every lesson, and her little sister, who constantly rummages through sarah’s things, and whether sarah will be beating herself up for every tirade she’d ever given about her little sister, or if she’ll ever smile that brilliant little smile again.
  • it’s her brother’s smile. lily sees him smiling up from the prophet.
  • her dad’s smile, too.
  • and james potter reaches over from his armchair and steadies her hand. she’d been shaking so hard it was sloshing on the armrest.
  • she smiles weakly. 
  • drink, evans.
  • cheers, she says, and they clink mugs, and down them in one gulp.
  • not one gulp, because who could actually do that?
  • but they keep refilled, and that’s what matters.
  • i am scared to go home.
  • lily is the first to admit it, but everyone echoes the sentiment. all of them. even james. he’s not saying it to soothe her.
  • he means it. he’s scared, too.
  • what the fuck are we going to do? dorcas asks.
  • and no one knows the answer to that, but remus mutters something and their drinks refill again.
  • lily starts tellling them about sarah. her family, and the dog, and the little sister. james fills in the blanks with anectodes about the brother. david.
  • david.
  • lily had been trying to remember his name all damned day, and it was absurd that she should know it–she never even talked to him, except once in her first week when she’d gotten hopelessly lost and he’d helped her find her class–but she’d been beating herself up about it all day.
  • his name was david and he was sarah’s older brother and he loved treacle tart and he was a decent flyer and his broomstick’s name was jezebel.
  • it doesn’t take it away, talking about all of this, but there’s something cathartic about it. giving voice to them. more than a shit obituary.
  • lily’s gran told her, once, that people died twice. once, when they breathed their last. second, when their name was spoken out loud for the last time. she says this to her friends, and then she reads: diedra wallace. the mother. and michael wallace, sarah’s father.
  • she starts to say isabel, but she gets stuck. dorcas says it for her.
  • james says david’s name. his middle name isn’t printed in the obit, but james knew it, apparently. andrew.
  • dorcas reads a little blurb about sarah, that she’s going to go live with relatives. the location isn’t printed. obviously.
  • lily remembers something about a muggle aunt, just outside london. she always gave sarah spending money for school, even though it was a world she could never see or be a part of.
  • will she be back at school? maybe that’s for the best if she isn’t.
  • they speculate, then, about whether she’ll come back, and what they’ll do that summer, and next year, and after.
  • no one has an answer, but james says something, and he buries the rest of the word in his cup.
  • they fall silent.
  • and it might be the light, or the three mugs of whisky she’s had, or the resolve in his voice. probably all of it.
  • but realizes she adores this boy, really and truly.
  • or that she wouldn’t mind adoring him.
  • something.
  • nothing else happens that night. the something summed up what they all felt, and what else was there to say?
  • no one might report them for drinking something questionable in the common room, but their arses will definitely be in hot water if they all show up hungover to class tomorrow, so they have one last toast to the wallaces and head to bed.

I’m currently sitting on the floor of my room sobbing because I just listened to @lordemusic’s pure heroine start to end for the first time in months and. it HURTS, I remember so distinctly all the feelings and memories I wove through each song, from the day it came out, and that album CARRIED me through high school! and now I’m older and the colours and imagery is so much more vivid and mixed with nostalgia it is so good and bittersweet to listen to, and it still wraps me like a blanket but now it feels foreign because I know that I am in such a different space, and the quiet days running the suburban streets late at night are now far behind me… I think, in essence, it now captures how much growing up hurts and I am experiencing growing pains (emotionally)

A Pepperony Shipper’s Defense of the “Civil War” Separation

First of all, yes, I was just as gobsmacked and pissed off as every other Tony/Pepper fan upon seeing Captain America: Civil War for the first time. Like, WTF and where did that come from and WHY and HOW?? It kind of took me out of the movie at certain points and, I can say now after calming down and having some perspective, kind of tainted my memory of the movie and caused me to remember it as being not as good as it actually is (although I still really liked it). Until I recently bought it on Blu-ray and watched it again, ready to roll my eyes at the references to the break-up, and how it was handled. But now that I wasn’t so taken aback and emotional about it, and have the comfort of knowing they eventually reconciled, I can analyze it more objectively, and really, it wasn’t bad. In fact, it actually worked really well for the story and Tony’s character development. Yes, character development, which isn’t always the deepest or most perfectly handled aspect of the MCU. But there is a cohesive through-line for Tony, that comes to a head in Civil War. He had a near-death experience in The Avengers, which caused him to have PTSD in Iron Man 3, then the combination of these experiences and Wanda giving him the vision of helplessness in the face of other-worldly danger lead him to create Ultron, which contributed to his guilt complex, as well as Pepper leaving him in between movies, both of which lead to his actions in Civil War. And yes, the reason Pepper wasn’t in the movie was because Gwyneth hadn’t renewed her contract yet so they had to write around that, but as far as cases of Real Life Writes The Plot go, I think they handled it very well. Because they didn’t just flimsily write around it, they used it. From the writers’ commentary:

“Yeah, the intent in this movie, because we knew where we were going with the character - that we had to motivate Tony to want to kill Bucky Barnes in the 3rd act - in order for the third act to work correctly, that Tony would have to be off balance. And the way that we thought we could make him off balance was by pulling things out of his life, making him emotionally vulnerable, really emotionally vulnerable. So Pepper is out of his life, it clearly is an issue for him…”

Yes! Visibly so. Their status was depressingly uncertain, and Pepper wasn’t physically in Civil War, but she was with Tony all up and through the movie. Her absence had him all types of messed up. That moment when he sees her name on the teleprompter is pure heartbreak. His political position was partially taken to try and mend their relationship and keep her in his life. There was the “I’ve been picturing a redhead” moment on the jet. And we know damn well he wasn’t picturing Natasha.

They then go on to mention that right after he gets all shook after seeing Pepper’s intro on the unchanged teleprompter (which RDJ nailed, btw, he looked so devastated. My Pepperony heart!), he’s confronted by the mother of the young man who died in Sokovia in Age of Ultron, dredging up his culpability and guilt for that whole mess.

“He’s being attacked emotionally on a lot of different fronts, and it puts [him] in a precarious position. So as the movie progresses, there is a touchstone or if something cathartic were to happen to him, it could potentially push him over the edge. Which is what happens at the end of the film.”

Personally, I’d much prefer that, if an important character has to be absent (for the second movie in a row, no less), their absence is felt and relevant to the appropriate other characters, instead of just casually hand waved away in one or two lines of dialogue as if their presence doesn’t matter either way. That way where it’s almost meta winking at the audience like, You all know this character isn’t here because of whatever actor reasons, so we won’t even bother to have their absence mean anything and this mention is purely perfunctory. And sure, in some cases that’s ok, but in this movie, where Tony’s the 2nd lead and a big part of the plot hinges on his state of mind at the time, his other half semi-dumping him would be a pretty big deal. And in my opinion, it was successfully portrayed as being a big, painful deal.

One specific complaint I’ve seen a lot, though, is that it didn’t make sense for Pepper to leave Tony after everything they’d been through, after how IM3 ended, and so all of a sudden. And yes, to us, it was out of nowhere, considering how IM3 ended and Tony jokingly mentioning maybe buying Pepper a farm at the end of AoU. Such is a potential pitfall of telling a story by way of a movie-verse, as opposed to a TV series, where the story can be told bit by bit, week after week. We only see a certain amount of story development on-screen, and a year or two or more apart. But looking at the big picture, we should take into account that Tony was in a whole other movie, sans Pepper, between IM3 and Civil War - Ya know, the one where his own creation tried to wipe out humanity, before he made that quip about buying a farm. So by the time of Civil War, he delivers this bit of emotionally significant exposition to Steve:

“A few years ago I almost lost her, so I trashed all my suits. Then we had to mop up Hydra…and then Ultron. My fault. And then, and then, and then, I never stopped. Because the truth is I don’t wanna to stop. I don’t want to lose her. I thought maybe the Accords could split the difference. In her defense, I am a handful.”

I’ll say. But seriously, so much about this little monologue, and it all makes logical sense. At the end of IM3 he made her a promise - maybe an impulsive, emotionally charged one, but a promise nonetheless - that he would give up Iron Man-ing. For her! But then bad shit kept happening (as it does), and he kept jumping into the fray. And maybe at first, she understood that, since the events of IM, he’s got this sense of responsibility and protection that he just can’t shake, Iron Man is just a part of him now, and maybe she didn’t rigidly hold him to a decision he made when she had just almost died and he had just had heart surgery. He was pretty fragile at the time, OK? But then Ultron happened…dear god, Ultron. His fault. He was unquestionably portrayed as being responsible for that ensuing mess. To the audience, to the other Avengers who told him to his face what a terrible idea it was, both before and after the fact, to himself. But then there’s Pepper. And yes, it sucks that we didn’t get this on screen and it’s left to our imaginations as to how exactly it played out. But seriously, imagine it. In my assumption, when they saw each other again after AoU, Tony received the dressing down of his life. Anything Howard might’ve said to him in the past can’t even compare. I can almost guarantee Pepper ripped him several new ones before she left. And he wouldn’t have been able to say shit, besides maybe “Please, baby, don’t leave me”, because he did royally fuck up. Probably even beyond Pepper’s comprehension at the time. Like, I go away for less than 2 weeks, and you create something that almost destroys the world?? How even does that happen? And after he was supposed to be dialing back on all this. To be fair though, it was a bit of his misguided attempt to put something in place that would allow him to at least semi-retire, but still. Major backfire. So I can totally see how she would’ve been, not only upset and disappointed enough to need space and time to think about their relationship and if she could really still be with him, but also utterly pissed and stressed. To the point where she’s like, I just can’t even deal with you right now. And there actually is a bit of precedent for that. When she almost resigned from her job at the end of IM2 because dealing with Tony and the drama that comes with him was just too damn much. Before they were even a couple. Summed up by Pepper going, “I never know if you’re gonna kill yourself or wreck the whole company.” And then a few years later he goes and almost wrecks the whole of civilization, oops. I see how she was like, Yeah I need to back away from aaaaall thissss for the time being.

Speaking of, Tony and the movie never definitively gave the impression that they were over and done forever, Pepper never to be seen again. That’s what most of us took from it, because we were shocked, and freaking out that something big and bad did happen with their relationship, and their future certainly wasn’t looking too bright. But going by Tony’s words and taking them at face value (instead of any speculation that he was trying to make it seem not so bad, or was in denial), he said they were “taking a break”. Not to get into too much semantics a la Friends, but that’s technically not a one-and-done break-up. That’s more like actress availability relationship limbo. Or maybe in Tony’s case, probation. Whatever the deal was, they were on the precipice, but hadn’t totally fallen off the cliff yet. And he didn’t say that he wanted her back, he said he didn’t “want to lose her.” So on some level he still had her, or at least still had a chance. Like they were together, but apart, TBD. And speaking of not losing her, the fact that a big part of the reason Tony supported the Accords was about Pepper…!!! For a movie that she wasn’t even in, that’s some serious shipper fuel. It also provides an evenly balanced match to Steve as to why they took their respective positions. They each had both an ideological reason and a personal reason. For Steve, ideologically it was because he had developed a distrust of government organizations, and personally, it was for his loyalty to Bucky. For Tony, his culpability in the Sokovia indecent drove him to believe they needed legal oversight, and personally, he just wanted Pepper to trust him again. To be able to say to her, See? I’m under some outside control now, I can’t just do whatever I want, when I want, and cause something like that to happen ever again, you don’t have to worry about me. “Supervised” Iron Man-ing and Avenging, to “split the difference” between being a completely rogue agent, and giving it up altogether. And hey, it looks like that might’ve worked… 

On a slightly more facetious note, it almost works better for the MCU as a whole for Pepper to not have been around for Age of Ultron, because if she was, Age of Ultron wouldn’t have happened. Tony wouldn’t have gotten that far. She would’ve given him one short and sweet “Are you out of your damn mind?!” speech, and that woulda been it. Roll credits. It wouldn’t have even been a movie, it would’ve been a Marvel One-Shot on the home release of another movie. That just wouldn’t have gone down. No way in Hell.

Especially if you buy into this pattern that I’ve noticed. When Pepper’s not there, Tony can be much more easily swayed into some questionable shit, because can’t nobody keep Tony Stark in check like Pepper Potts can keep Tony Stark in check. She wasn’t around in Age of Ultron, look what happened. She wasn’t around in Civil War, look what happened. Come Spider-Man: Homecoming, Tony’s this chill, protective, stern yet caring mentor/father figure, kind of making up for previously recruiting this hella green teenager into a battle he himself had nothing to do with, wants Peter to be better than him, lets Peter be for the most part, but will step in and handle or rescue him if need be, I’m sitting there in the theater just loving dad!Tony. He was wonderful, and not at all problematic. Come the end of the movie, he and Pepper were back together the whole time. Welp, that explains it I guess, lol. She really is his balance. It’s been established since the first Iron Man (2008!) that he cannot live without that woman, even before he flat-out told her in IM3. And I think that idea’s really been put to the test in his last few movies. So thank goodness he got her back (however the hell he did it) and is about to make this thing legal, because he is a hot mess without her, even more so than usual, and he knows it.

Yes, Anthony, yes you are. But Pepper loves you dearly anyway. 

[not my gif]

It Takes Understanding [Keith Kogane/Reader][REQUEST]

Summary: After discovering the true nature of his heritage, Keith is terrified when you finally confront him about it.

a/n: i’ve had this sitting for a while. anon wanted a fic where there was a bit of heat between keith and mc because he’s defensive about all the galra stuff. mc has to reassure him that he’s loved, anyway.

lemme know if you liked it!

Spoilers to, what, season…2???


Keith didn’t lift his eyes away from the blade in his hand, even once he granted you permission to come inside his room. Truthfully, he wasn’t surprised when you entered briskly, lips pursed the tightest he had ever seen. Other than your footfalls scuffing against the metallic floor, the room was enveloped in a silence that he wished would had never come about.

“If this hadn’t come out, were you planning to ever tell me?” your first words stung, widening the void in his heart by a mile. Of everyone in affiliation with him, you were the last person who he had wanted to see regard him so coldly, with a trembling, distrustful gaze. He couldn’t blame you for your hurt.

“You have believe when I say I would have,” Keith said evenly, setting aside the blade to twine his fingers loosely as his arms draped across his thighs. “But, how did you expect me to tell you? I didn’t even know until just a few days ago! At least, I didn’t know for sure, anyway.”

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Names

If you’re never sorry
Then you can’t be forgiven
If you’re not forgiven
Then you can’t be forgotten
If you’re not forgotten
Then you can live forever

Regina Spektor, “Pound of Flesh”


He was one of the unforgotten ones, not remembered – unforgotten. One of those wisps of epiphany, those sudden sadnesses that manifested in some poor soul. He drifted, and jostled past the more animate, more real beings. The transition between him and “it” had been gradual, lost somewhere between celestial dust bunnies, past lives, and packets of hair dye. Faces and memories pushed – jabbed - collided - past each other until he forgot who he was.


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anonymous asked:

As a person with OCD, what horrifies me about antis is that they are endorsing thinking that is literally a symptom of mental illness. If someone believes that thinking"bad" thoughts can hurt people and make the thinker a bad person, they need to seek help.

Yep. I think it’s not quite the same concept as what an OCD/anxious/etc person struggles with, but it presents very similarly.

It’s like this: antis, who consider consuming or creating fanworks that depict bad* things to be equally awful as actually doing them, are essentially like thought crime detectives. They already know that a bad thing was done; now they have to determine why it was done to prevent future copycat offenses. As all actions must start as a thought, the person who did the bad thing must have been thinking bad thoughts. Mystery solved. don’t think about bad things, guys!

That sounds like ‘every bad thought you have essentially springs into existence in reality just by thinking it’, which is what an OCD/anxious/etc person struggles with feeling or believing. 

But antis (and all other groups that treat thoughts and actions with equal severity) consider badness to be more like a growing addiction. People who do bad things first must have deliberately dwelt on the bad thing and then acted on it when the thoughts alone were no longer enough. (and the only reason for dwelling on something is because you want it to be real.)

If you think like an anti, fandom is like fertilizer for badness. A bad person who has already nursed a bad thought to maturity puts a bad fanfic on the internet. An innocent person reads the bad fanfic and it gives them a bad thought, which they then dwell on and nurse to maturity, maybe by listening to other people talking about the bad thing and consuming more bad things. Then they add to the bad things by talking about it themselves, or creating a bad fanwork, which corrupts another innocent. and the cycle continues, forever, with people planting seeds of evil in each other.

None of this would be a problem if antis didn’t already consider fiction and reality a hair’s breadth apart. if a bad thought makes one person decide to write a bad fic, it’s just as likely to make another person do the bad act. Both of them are equally harmful in different ways: the bad act causes direct hurt, but the bad fic spreads the seed of bad thoughts, exponentially increasing indirect hurt.

*’bad’ meaning ‘not anti-approved’. this could be anything from actions that would be crimes in reality to engaging in kinky sex.

The truth of the matter is:

  • not all thoughts are about or associated with reality. The imagination is expansive and cannot be contained by what is realistic or even desired in real life.  A person may have fantasies that they only want to indulge in their head, abhorring the idea of them happening in real life, and never have any trouble distinguishing desires for imaginary action and real action. 
    • creating art about something is not the same as actually doing it.
  • thoughts are not crimes and do not harm anyone because they cannot change reality on their own. thoughts can lead to crimes, and our justice system takes into account how much deliberate thought and planning was dedicated to a crime in determining how to punish it. But thoughts themselves do not harm other people and are not punishable on their own under any circumstances, no matter how many times they happen or how much they are hated or enjoyed by the thinker.
  • deciding to take premeditated action irl requires a fundamentally different kind of thinking from fantasizing about an action. It requires cost-benefit analysis, realistic planning, and preparation. Thus: the threshold for having intent to act is not only much higher than just thinking about it, fantasizing about it, or wishing for it, but also requires crossing the mind’s barrier of awareness between fantasy and reality (an awareness we have from about the age of 5).
    • relatedly: this is why fantasies are not enough to prove premeditation. If a person acts on a fantasy without planning it out, it’s considered an act of impulse.
  • only the individual can know if indulging fantasies is likely to lead to real life action. For some people, fantasizing about something that’s taboo or harmful in real life is cathartic; if it is something they struggle with wishing they could do for real, the act of fantasizing relieves that wish. For others, it only strengthens the desire. But each person has to figure out for themselves which one it is and take action accordingly.
  • even if fandom causes a person to have unwholesome thoughts, it is the responsibility of the individual to regulate both the thoughts themselves and any action they might be tempted to take as a result. Not everyone can handle fandom content for a variety of reasons. however, if someone acts poorly in reaction to the content they consumed, they are still responsible for their own actions.

Of course there are exceptions. People who have poor impulse control, for instance, may be able to act on a thought on a whim without considering consequences to themselves or others. But the cause of a thought is not responsible for the action, regardless.

anonymous asked:

"You REALLY shouldn't touch that..."- Dark to Anti or vice versa? (after writing that down it does look kinda smutty, but it wasn't meant to be, I swear!) (also thanks for taking requests)

((You’re welcome ^^ Thanks for the prompt!
Warnings for body dismemberment, implied murder))

Dark’s room was always interesting to snoop around, Anti found. Whenever the grey skinned ego wasn’t there, Anti would wait for him there and since Dark wasn’t around to stop him, he would snoop. He had found some interesting things, from old band shirts before Dark had opted to wear suits to bones and a rather ancient looking sword. Dark had waved off all questions about them, stating they were various things he had picked up while exploring his void, and Anti had left it at that.

Honestly, he didn’t really care what the stuff was that he found, it was more the reaction he got from Dark for snooping. Still, the dark-haired ego was yet to ban the glitch from his room, so Anti would continue snooping until he did.

This time around, it was close to Halloween and Anti was hoping for some really nasty stuff. As he began to poke around the wardrobe, he noticed several large binbags lying at the back, tied off neatly but out of place. Frowning, Anti reached forward to poke them, only for grey fingers to catch his wrist and pull him back.

Standing in the middle of the room, Dark looked down at Anti with an unimpressed expression, but the glitch’s attention was caught by the bags, so he didn’t care.

“You really shouldn’t touch that.” Dark murmured, pulling Anti away from the wardrobe and shutting the door.

“Why not?” Anti asked immediately, trying to pull himself out of Dark’s grip. When he failed, he glitched free and went to open the doors again. Dark wrapped an arm around his waist and lifted Anti fully off the floor, carrying him away instead to much protest.

“Trust me, you don’t want to touch it right now.” The ego shrugged Anti off onto the bed and sank down next to him, working his tie and the top button of his shirt loose. “I’ll call you when you can.”

Anti’s face lit up, “Is it a present?”

Dark chuckled, “You’d probably see it as one. Now, what are you here for?”

“Ye, duh.” Anti stuck his tongue out, flopping backwards on the bed to watch Dark change to more comfortable clothes. “I wanted to see ye, but ye’re always working.”

“That’s because we actually have a life, unlike some.” Dark quipped and Anti glowered at him, “Besides, I’m not working now.”

“So tell me what’s in the bags!” Anti demanded, “Please?!”

“Patience,” Dark smirked, “You’ll find out soon enough.”

“You really shouldn’t touch that.”

The warning was getting too much for Anti to take. The black bags in the wardrobe had disappeared and Dark refused to say where they had done, and now there was nothing there but a strange stain on the carpet. Dark had already said he was going to get it cleaned, but Anti had a feeling he knew what it was, he just couldn’t place it.

“Ye said I’d find out what was in the bags!” He whined, glitching over to Dark and standing with his arms crossed in front of him.

“I’m sure you’ll be filling some yourself soon.” Dark shrugged casually, and carefully, as he was currently painting his nails black.

“Will ye paint mine next?”

When Dark called Anti to come to his house, Anti knew there was something exciting waiting for him. Dark never called, just didn’t care when Anti showed up, so when his phone rang in the middle of the night Anti was there in a heartbeat. Wilford told him Dark was in the basement and that was all he said, so Anti wandered down there and stared at what he saw.

Dark was standing with his jacket off, shirt sleeves rolled up and rubber gloves on. There was a dead body in front of him, a stranger Anti didn’t know and they were very much dead. Around Dark were an assortment of tools for dismembering a body, and the black plastic bags that Anti had found in his wardrobe, currently empty.

“It was a dead body!” Anti exclaimed, alerting Dark to his presence.

“Hello to you too.” Dark smirked, “And if you’re referring to the bags from a few weeks ago, yes that’s what they were. I had to hide them to make sure the trail went cold before another body was dumped.”

“Dare I ask why there’re so many dead bodies?” Anti said, stalking into the room cautiously as if the man might jump back to life at any moment.

“There are a number of murderous egos here, take your pick.” Dark sighed, “This particular one is Yandere. He’s good at cleaning up his messes, but at the moment he’s a little…out of sorts. A new senpai in his sights and all, so I’m doing it for him.”

“And ye thought I’d wanna help?” Anti inquired.

“Do you?”

“Of course!” Anti exclaimed.

There was something cathartic about cutting up and shoving a dead body into plastic bags with Dark by his side, and Anti found himself humming towards the end of it. There was an added bonus of seeing Dark minus his usual pristine suit, hacking away at limbs like they were nothing and carefully making sure there weren’t too many pieces per bag.

Anti had never been gladder to have listened to an order from Dark as he tossed the last piece of the body into the bag, and Dark tied it neatly.

“Now, let’s go and dump this.” Dark said, “I’m driving.”

“I know a place.” Anti grinned, “Let’s go.”

silly birdflash sleepover headcanons

a. Wally frequently hosted sleepovers with Dick when they were younger and they would play videogames into the wee morning hours (obviously used to being awake and active at that time), rejoicing in the company of a best friend who understood everything, but also just getting to be kids for a night. Bruce would always set a lot of rules for Dick when he would go (i.e., don’t reveal batfamily secrets, don’t go looking for trouble, leave the crime fighting to Barry, etc.), but he was always secretly relieved that Dick had this refuge from the Manor and Gotham.

b. They would eat pizza and occasionally try to prank Conner (remembering that if you said Clark’s Kryptonian name, his super hearing would immediately zero in on your words). They tested the theory a few times, whispering “Kon El” and then asking stupid, rhetorical questions about the meaning of life, or which laundry detergent was best, as if speaking to a Ouija board. One night, they had giggled so much at their own stupid questions, having long ago given up on the hope that Conner’s super hearing was quite as strong as Clark’s as they had done this a million times and he had never responded, when Wally’s bedroom window was thrown open, startling the two young heroes and causing them to yelp in what would later register as an extremely embarrassing pitch for superheroes. Conner didn’t even bother to enter the room. He just glared through the open window at his teammates and said, “STOP” before taking off. After about three minutes of slack-jawed staring at the place where Conner had just been, Wally whispered, “Kon El, my bad.”

c. Dick always brought a sleeping bag with him, but it was more out of habit than anything else. He hadn’t actually slept in it in years. Although neither teen acknowledged the routine that they had established, it went without saying that while playing video games, they sat on Wally’s bed, Dick beside the wall, Wally on the outside. As the night went on, shoes were removed and layers were shed in an effort to get more comfortable or because ‘the stiff fabric was restricting my arm, that’s why I’m losing!’ At some point, well after midnight, the lights were turned off so that the screen was more visible, and pillows were stacked behind to prop up the competitive gamers. Eventually, after hours of blowing stuff up, shooting bad guys, stealing cars, and pretty much getting to do everything that they never actually get to do despite (or because of) their secret super lives, one of them would throw in the towel (because they were losing and were tired of hearing the other gloat), and the game would be turned off. With the room dark, the boys would just sink backwards into the mattress and look at the ceiling, talking. Sometimes it would be about silly stuff, just jokes about the Leaguers to make them laugh. Other times it would be cathartic– someone needing to get something off their chest or to clear their mind. And sometimes, it was almost philosophical. No matter what they talked about, they would eventually drift off during this part of the night, responses becoming monosyllabic or more of a hum than a word. One might curl towards the other, and in the night, if one woke to find an arm slung over them, they would just cuddle into the embrace further, rather than turn away.

Harry Potter and the Cursed Child Fic: I Am My Brother’s Keeper (Part 2 of 4)

By: @rarity-kasket

2.9k words, rated G

Being the son of Harry Potter isn’t easy and being the brother of James Sirius “Golden Boy” Potter doesn’t make it any better. However, as obnoxious as his brother can be, Albus wouldn’t trade him for the world. When Albus accidentally stumbles upon a secret, it threatens to break apart his already complicated and messy relationship with James.

Again, special thanks to @abradystrix and @autumn-of-ilvermorny being amazing human beings! 

Please click for Part 1, Part 3, Part 4


Winter of 2019

“Al!”

Albus groans inwardly. James calling after him is the last thing that Albus wants to hear right now. He doesn’t look back, but instead, he quickens his pace down the corridor.  

“Hey, wait up!”

The sound of James’s footsteps picks up in rhythm with his own. When Albus decides to break into a sprint, a hand reaches out to grab him by the sleeve of his robe.

“Why the rush–woah, what happened to your eye, Al?” James exclaims as he studies Albus’s darkened left eye.

“It’s Albus, and it’s nothing.” Albus shrugs it off dismissively. “Now, if you would excuse me, I am very busy.”

“Yes, I’m very sure,” James says skeptically before his eyes study the bruise. He frowns, and his gaze makes Albus uncomfortable. “That looks like it hurts. You should get that checked out. Come on, let me walk you down to Madam Pomfrey.”  James reaches out to touch the soft bruise under Albus’s left eye before his brother flinches away, narrowing his emerald eyes into a distrustful glare.

“Don’t.” Albus snarls. James stares back at him, hurt.

“Albus, come on. At least, tell me who did this to you. Maybe I could–”

“I don’t need you defending my honor.”

“Merlin’s beard don’t be so bloody stubborn! I’m trying to help.” James says exasperatedly.

“What? You suddenly care what happens to me now?” Albus laughs bitterly. “Golden Boy Potter doing his one good deed of the day–”

“Albus–”

“-by gracing the black sheep of the Potter Legacy with his presence. What did I ever do to deserve this?” Albus rails sarcastically.

“I’m just trying–”

Albus doesn’t let James get another word in.

“What do you want a gold medal? A pat on the back? A gold star? “ He replies nastily as he measures James with a dark and disdainful glare. “Please, the only thing you care about is yourself.”

James reels back in disbelief as if Albus has struck him across the face.

In that moment, it couldn’t be more obvious how far the two brothers have drifted apart.

“You can be really cruel sometimes,” James confesses.

“ Just because you’re miserable doesn’t mean that you have to make everyone else around you miserable.“ James spits out before taking a few steps back. He turns away from Albus, and something seething and hot flares inside Albus.

“I’ve been getting by for three years without you. Don’t pretend that you care now.” Albus sneers, and he feels some sick and twisted satisfaction when he sees James flinch at the words before leaving Albus alone in the empty corridor.

The Present, Spring of 2025

As soon as the door swings open, Albus instantly regrets this decision to beg James for help. Is he really this desperate?

Upon seeing his brother, James grins, leaning coolly against the doorframe with his arms folded over his chest.

“I can only assume that you’re here to finally admit your undying love for Scorpius Malfoy.”

Albus’s cheeks burn as he quickly breezes past James.

“Ha, funny. ” Albus replies drily before standing in James’s living room, scratching the back of his head awkwardly.

“I guess you were right. Uh–that I need your help. Not the undying love part.” Albus adds quickly, and James cocks his head in mild amusement.

“I never thought I would see the day that Albus Severus Potter would actually come crawling to me for help.”

“I know it’s hard not to be an obnoxious prick every five minutes, but could at least you try?”

“I’m sorry. This moment is too beautiful.”

Albus sighs at  James’s infuriating grin.

“You know what, this is pointless.” Why did he even think coming to James would be a good idea? Albus crosses over to the door, but James easily catches him by the collar of his shirt.

“Relax, it was a joke. Let me help. I want to help. ” James claps his hands together and bats those dark lashes at Albus pleadingly. It’s the picture of innocence.

Honestly, this only makes Albus even more distrustful.

“You really want to help me?” Albus raises a skeptical eyebrow.

“Seriously. Sit, make yourself comfortable.” James gestures to the sofa. “Did you come from class?”

“Yeah, uh, an introduction to psychology course. I have another class later.”  Albus says as he drops his backpack and notebook down on the sofa.  James wrinkles his nose at this.

“What do you plan to do after you graduate?” James asks curiously.

Albus shrugs. He hasn’t decided yet, despite the fact that he was quickly approaching the end of the year. However, there is this one particular class…

Introduction to Acting.

It was originally a course to fill an elective. He never actually expected to enjoy it so much. However, there is something cathartic about slipping away from reality for even a few moments, stepping into someone else’s world and seeing life in a completely new light. With a script in his hands, Albus slips away, and he is transformed into whatever he needs to be.

Currently, his lecturer is attempting to persuade Albus into auditioning for their fall production of Hamlet. He’s not entirely sure yet…

“Do you plan on working in the Muggle Investigation Department at the Ministry? I mean your experience would be useful there.”

Albus frowns as James pitches the idea of working for the Ministry. He would rather die than work at the Ministry of Magic with his father and his brother.

Albus doesn’t expect James or his family to fully understand his choice to attend a Muggle university after Hogwarts. Scorpius gets it, and he thinks his mother gets it too. In his classes, he’s not Harry Potter’s son. He doesn’t shrink in the shadow of the Potter Legacy. There, no one cares about where he comes from, and that is such a relief. To just be Albus.

“It’s not like I’m giving up magic completely.”

“I never said that,” James argues.

“You didn’t have to. I see it in your face.” Albus sighs. “Maybe coming over was a mistake.”

“No, you came to me for help. I want to do this for you.”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m being naive. Scorpius doesn’t–he couldn’t…”

“He couldn’t what?”

Albus feels his face grow hot before dragging his hand over his face. Was James really going to make him say it out loud?

“He couldn’t possibly feel the same way.” The words make Albus’s chest constrict as if it’s almost painful to say it.

“You know this for sure?” James asks. His expression grows suddenly serious.

“I just know.”

“So you haven’t talked to him? You’re just assuming.”

“I’m not assuming.”

James sighs.

“I didn’t realize how thick you would be. Al, talk to him. Be honest with Scorpius about your feelings. You’ll never know unless you talk to him. I know it’s terrifying to put yourself out there in the deep end. I know you. You’re crazy stupid about Scorpius, so stop wasting your time and tell him, because being in love feels –” He falters. “–really great.”

There is a long pause of silence as Albus watches a pink-hued flush color James’s cheeks. His dark brown eyes glimmer with something quite melancholy. It’s not a reaction that he expects from James, whose lips are perpetually carved into a smile. His eyes always shine with mischief.

Why does he look like that? Before Albus opens his mouth to speak, there is a thin pop.

Teddy stands in the middle of James’s living room. He looks pleasantly surprised to see Albus.

“Oh hello there, Albus,” He greets, gracing him with a charming grin before he sits on the sofa beside him.  “James didn’t tell me that you would be stopping by. How is school?”

Albus cannot help the smile that is threatening to surface on his lips. Teddy has this way of waltzing into a room, making everything warm and welcoming and bright. Sometimes, Albus needs that.  

“Ugh, you’re so friendly. It’s gross.” James grumbles, rolling his eyes. He looks so childish as he sulks in the sofa with his arms folded over his chest. Teddy grins before he reaches over Albus to pinch James’s cheek.

“Is baby Jamie jealous? Not getting enough attention.” Albus laughs, and James’s face grows as scarlet as the Gryffindor chest from embarrassment as he tries to glare narrowly at Teddy.

“Teddy–stop!” James whines.

“No, I’m giving baby Jamie attention.” He smiles before crawling over a thoroughly amused Albus and wrestling James down on the sofa. They are a pair of flailing limbs and laughter. When James is pinned in a corner, Teddy ruffles James’s untidy hair and nuzzles their cheeks together. James squirms under Teddy’s weight. When he is freed, James glares half-heartedly at Teddy, the grin threatening to break on his lip betraying him.

“You’re the worst,” James tells Teddy, his brown eyes shimmering with something that Albus cannot quite decipher. He’s seen that shimmer before. He has caught his mother looking at their dad that way when she thinks no one is looking. It’s the same shimmer that Scorpius sometimes wears when he sits by their kitchen window quietly reading a new book to himself.

“I know.” A fond smile tugs on Teddy’s lips.  

Something passes between the two.

Strange.

Albus thinks.

However, he doesn’t ponder on it too long. It’s a ridiculous notion.

He’s imagining things.

Clearing his throat, Albus stands before reaching for his messenger bag.

“I was actually on my way back to class now,” Albus says, and Teddy frowns.

“Aw, I just got here, and you’re already leaving–”

“He probably doesn’t want to be stuck here with you. I know I don’t want to be.” James quips. Teddy doesn’t say anything. Teddy simply smiles at James adoringly. When it is too much, James, red-faced, looks away.

“I should be leaving,”  Albus says. Teddy climbs off the sofa and crosses over to him. He smiles warmly.

“You’ll have to tell me all about school. Maybe without Jamie here trying to hog all the attention.” Albus smiles.

“Hey!” James tries to interject, but both Teddy and Albus ignore him.

“Yeah, okay. Soon.” With a pop, he is gone.

When Albus starts looking for his notebook before his next class, he realizes that he has left it at James’s flat. In his hasty exit, Albus only picked up his backpack.

How could he be so stupid as to leave his notes?

It’s no problem really, just an inconvenience.

Fine, he’ll apparate in quickly, grab his notebook, get out, and run to class.

Finding somewhere empty and hidden at the university, Albus apparates back to James’s flat.

In James’s flat, he finds his notebook wedged in between the sofa cushions. Relief floods his chest at the sight of it, and he quickly snatches up the notebook and stuffs it in his messenger bag. Albus prepares to apparate when he hears voices quietly wafting from the hallway.

“–I was thinking about last Sunday. It went so well. And then Albus being here earlier today…” Albus instantly recognizes Teddy’s voice.

Why is Teddy talking about him? Albus lingers at the edge of the hallway to listen to more. “Maybe–”

“This was your idea in the first place, and things are great this way.” This is undoubtedly James.

“I know, but things will be different after I get back from Romania. I’ll be more settled. I think Albus would understand if we told him. Maybe Harry and Ginny would understand. We could tell them together.”

“Um, no way. We are most definitely not telling my dad, the Savior of the Wizarding World and the Head of Magical Law Enforcement at the Ministry of Magic and your godfather! Do you have a death wish?”

There is a long pause, and Albus feels himself leaning in with great curiosity.

“Aren’t you tired of hiding? Are you even happy with the way things are?” Teddy speaks so faintly that Albus nearly misses it.

“They’re not going to understand.”

“It’s been a year,” Teddy says softly as Albus stands outside James’s open bedroom door.

“Over a year. A year and four months.” James corrects him.

Over a  year?

What does James feel like he needs to hide from him? From all of them?

Albus peers silently into the room.

James, with his arms defiantly crossed over his chest, stands in front of Teddy, who is sitting at the edge of the bed. The frown on James’s lips makes it evident that his brother would rather be anywhere than having this conversation. The two appear completely unaware of Albus’s hidden presence.

“Will you at least consider telling them?” Teddy pulls James closer to him; his hands rest lightly on James’s waist. In response, James weaves a hand through Teddy’s bright blue hair, and Teddy closes his eyes and smiles. His hair changes from bright blue to a beautiful dark magenta as James quietly plays in his hair. It looks so natural. They look so natural and so comfortable with each other.

After a while, James speaks quietly.

“I just don’t want them to hate me,” James wears that same melancholy glimmer in his eyes from earlier, and Albus wants nothing more than to reach out for James, but he doesn’t know how. He needs to reassure James that they could never hate him. Albus could never hate him, but he wouldn’t know the words to say. Albus is rooted to the floor by his own cowardice.  

James’s statement makes Teddy open his eyes. He looks at James, so open and so warm.

“James Sirius Potter, look at me.” Ever so slowly, James’s gaze meets Teddy’s, glossy and wet.

“They could never hate you. I don’t think that Harry and Ginny have an unkind bone in their body. I just– I don’t want you to feel like you have to hide a piece of yourself from them.” His voice is just as open and warm and soft as the way he looks at James. His brother’s face grows flushed under Teddy’s gaze, and his hand slips out of Teddy’s hair, gently tracing along the curve of his neck.

James crawls up on the bed, his knees on either side of Teddy’s hips and his hands on Teddy’s shoulders to steady himself. James leans his forehead against Teddy’s and closes his eyes.

They stay like this for a long moment before Teddy walks two fingers up James’s arm, and for some reason, this makes his brother’s lips curve into a soft smile.

James murmurs something too quietly for Albus to hear. Whatever it is, it makes Teddy laugh earnestly before he leans in, pressing their mouths other.

The sheer shock of the kiss is enough to make Albus drop his journal.

At the soft thud of the notebook hitting the floor, Teddy and James quickly spring apart to find Albus gawking in the doorway.

James’s expression is one of astonishment before melting into pure annoyance.

“What are you doing here?” James demands. His sudden hostility takes Albus off guard. He is used to James’s easy-going smiles and mischievous smirks.

“I- uh came back for this…” Albus quickly scrambles to grab the leather notebook. Teddy looks over at James, concerned.

“James–” Teddy starts.

James stands, dragging a hand over his face. “I need to talk to Albus. Alone.”

Teddy stands too. When he reaches out to touch James, the other shrinks away from him. Teddy appears hurt.

“You don’t have to do this alone.”

“I know.”

Teddy looks unconvinced, but he sighs before turning to Albus, who stares at the scene numbly. Teddy opens his mouth to say something to Albus before shutting it and apparating out.

Neither of the Potter brothers say anything but linger in a tense silence.

Albus is lost for words.

Every exchange between Teddy and James is bathed in a new light, like watching the colorful pieces of a kaleidoscope break apart and come together in new shapes. Suddenly, every sentence that was spoken, every glance that was shared, and every casual touch takes on a new meaning.

Albus feels the world shifting from under his feet.

His brother and Teddy, their godbrother.

“Teddy and you?” Albus asks, his mind processing this new revelation.  James ignores the question.

“Albus, listen, that wasn’t what it looked like.”

“Really? What exactly is going on between Teddy and you?” Albus snaps.

James dodges Albus’s inquisitive stare.

“Teddy and I are–” James falters, screwing his eyes shut and taking in a shuddering breath before opening his eyes again. “That was nothing,” he finishes lamely.

“It didn’t look like nothing. Whatever I just witnessed was most definitely not nothing.”

“Al–”

“James, I’m not an idiot. I would appreciate it if you would not treat me like one.”  Albus says, feeling his temper flare as James’s inability to simply be honest with him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” James denies, starting for the door and shoving past Albus, who manages to catch the sleeve of his shirt.

“Please James, I just want the truth.”

“Alright, you want the truth? There is nothing between Teddy and me.”  

“You’re such a hypocrite. You’re preaching to me about being honest, and you don’t even have the decency to tell me the truth.”

“Al, I said it was nothing, and you’re not going to say anything to anyone because you saw nothin–”

“No, I saw you snogging with Teddy. Our godbrother. Teddy and you. What the bloody hell James?”

James tears his arm out of Albus’s grip. “I don’t need your judgement!” he snaps.

Albus is bewildered by James’s comments. “Judgement? I’m trying to–”

“You can leave now.”

“What?”

“You heard me. This conversation is over.”

“James–”

“Get. Out.”

“Just let me–”

“Leave!”

Albus explodes, “Fine!”

With his notebook, Albus apparates out of James’s flat and back to class.