not muuuch bUT there is cuute stuff hereee, and there is that mysterious child I was talking about earlierrr, he has no naaame so he is really just called unknown or no nameee but you can call him Unko (that’s how imma tag himm)
HOW DID YOU AND DANIEL @mohawk-yeshua SEND THE EXACT SAME ASK AT THE EXACT SAME TIME?????? Danny, I won’t answer yours since you sent the exact same one. Hannah Leigh, I love you thank you for the ask!
—how was your first kiss?
I haven’t had mine yet, believe it or not?
—what do you love about yourself?
I like that I am really compassionate towards people and things and everything, I think
—when’s the last time you warmed your hands in front of a fire?
oh man, I really can’t remember? agh
—would you rather watch a sunrise or sunset?
a sunset, do you want to know why? because after the colors fade, THE STARS come out. and that is, by far, the best thing
—what’s the best thing about summer?
the vibes, the adventures and adventure-y feeling, the NIGHTS are just better in summer time?, having more time
—what makes you feel warm inside?
not a lot of things, just special things. I can’t list them here agh, I’ll make a warm feeling list one day and tag you lol
—what’s your favorite halloween tradition?
buying a whole bag of candy all for myself (my parents do this for us instead, because we don’t celebrate halloween)
—what’s the last thing you learned?
I learned that every if not most candies are poisonous for doggos
—when’s the last time you felt obsessed?
listening to Juan Luis Guerras’ 2015 album I think
—what’s your favorite article of clothing?
it’s between my everyday jeans or my IDENTITY IN CHRIST tee shirt
This is what 1 year and 4 months post-op looks like for me. The 1 year mark is usually when the scarring/coloring really starts to fade out. Not saying that it wouldn’t fade before you hit 1 year especially if you’re using something to help with is (because mine did). But ever since I’ve hit 1 year I can personally say things are starting to lighten up and I’m very hopeful that they’ll fade pretty well over time as I’m treating them.
the year of the long way home (the light before we land)
continuation to fade together, this will be an eight-part series
Only a week into the school year and Dean was already drowning. For the second time, he found himself going to sleep in an empty dorm. Neville was off who-knows-where. And Seamus had kept suspiciously quiet ever since Wednesday. Dean was starting to wonder if he’d done something wrong, though he knew he hadn’t. Still, the radio silence was killing him. The color was fading out of everything.
Nothing felt right anymore. More and more horror stories of detention with the Carrows started to spread around the building. He’d already got a failing mark in Charms, his best class. He was around his friends everyday, but it wasn’t like how things were in the summer, expectant isolation. He was thrust into loneliness while holding tightly onto Seamus’ hand or clapping Neville on the back, or practicing transfiguration with Luna in the Room of Requirement. He kept trying to capture the magic they’d felt in fifth year, and even sixth year, but with Harry gone, thing were bleaker than ever.
Though he tried to stave off sleep until Seamus came up to bed, he felt his eyes start to drift shut until he slid backwards into another string of dreams.
“Dean!” Seamus dragged him from the blurry world of sleep. “Dean!” Like a switch was flipped everything came sharply into focus. Dean sat up bolt-right in the bed. He could barely make out Seamus’ face, lit only by the moonlight streaming in through the window.
“Is everything okay?”
“You have to go. It’s not safe. Neville’s packed your bags.” As Dean’s eyes adjusted, he made out the faint outline of Neville, Luna and Ginny standing in front of his bed. “Tonks is coming to pick you up.”
“Her dad’s going on the run, too, you’ll be safer with him.” Dean felt Seamus’ arm grabbing him and yanking him out of bed. He thrust clothes into Dean’s hands.
“On the run? Why do I have to go?” Dean asked, stripping off his pajamas, not caring that he was in front of the girls.
“Neville had detention tonight.”
“Oh god, Neville-”
“I’m alright,” Neville mumbled.
“I’m sorry, Dean,” Seamus said holding onto Dean’s shoulder, “we wanted to tell you. Neville overheard what we’d all suspected. They’re planning on rounding up all the muggleborn students and turning them into Voldemort. Why do you think they’ve all been gone this year?”
“Rumor has it they already took Dilly’s dad to Azkaban,” Ginny said, gravely. The only sound that filled the room was their ragged breathing. All of them, ready to help him leave. Dean wanted to cry as Luna flipped on the light.
“There’s not much time,” Neville said. “I’m sorry, Dean, but we have to go.”
They rushed through the castle, ducking out of sight of Mrs. Norris and Filch, and even McGonagall who was due to be on watch. They were sure she’d seen them, but it didn’t matter. They knew she’d keep quiet.
And then they stood at the gates of the castle and all that was left to do was leave. Ginny went first, grabbing Dean by the collar and pulling him into a hug so fierce it almost knocked him over. He remembered the days in sixth year where she’d lean into him under the oak tree next to the Great Lake, giving him a kiss every time the wind blew in her hair. It felt like a lifetime ago, and it might as well have been.
Luna pressed a dreamcatcher in his hand. “I’ve enchanted it,” she said. “It’ll keep you safe.”
“Thanks, Luna,” he said, pulling her into a soft hug.
“Don’t tell the others,” she whispered into his ear, “but you’ll be able to speak to me through there. Only once, so choose wisely.” She pulled away. “I have a feeling we’ll see each other sooner than you think.” He nodded, afraid to say anything and spoil the moment.
Then, Neville slapped him on the back, face twisted into a pained expression and Dean knew he was trying not to cry. “Stay safe, mate.” And then he turned away, rubbing at his eyes, and Dean felt the tears start to prick at his eyes, too. He didn’t want to say goodbye to Seamus.
“Dean.” He didn’t turn around. “Dean.” Seamus spun him around and Dean collapsed against him, ragged sobs echoing around in the wind.
“I don’t want to go,” he cried, getting snot all over Seamus’ blazer, but Seamus just held him tighter. “Maybe if I stay, things might be alright. We could, I dunno, figure something out. Buy some time.” Even while saying it, he knew it would never work. He had to go.
And then Seamus kissed him like he never had before. It was the kiss he’d been waiting for his whole life. He felt Seamus’ tears blur with his own. Dean didn’t know how long it went on, seconds or minutes or hours or days, even, until finally, with a shuddering breath, Seamus pulled away.
“We’re going to be happy again, Dean, I promise. You’re going to be free. And as soon as you are, I’ll be here.”
“We’re gonna get that flat, yeah? With the cat?” Dean laughed, voice thick with tears. He felt Seamus nod against his forehead. And when he looked up, there was Tonks, ready to take him away from them.
“It’s time to go,” she said. He looked back at Seamus one more time, drinking in every freckle, every scar, every mannerism. Dean turned his back to the group, facing Tonks.
Since you told me you were leaving the color has been fading out of my life. Each shade vanishing one by one, till I’m left in a world of grayscale. I’m left feeling numb at the thought of you, or am I numbing myself so those thoughts don’t hurt anymore? I can hardly tell anymore. All I know is now nothing was beautiful and everything hurt, now that you’re gone.
He can’t remember her…completely. He remembers bits and pieces, he remembers thoughts and feelings, sometimes sensations and sometimes more, but what he does know is that she can hold his hand and it won’t make him feel ill.
He misses that part.
[3313 words, post-Hell Bent, general G rating with some vague allusions to Things]
That is all that went through a Warp Talon’s feral mind, the strong ‘taste’ of psychic energy in the air. A target. Food. And strong food, something that wild instincts understood as a stable source of sustenance. Claws twitched and there was a whine of hunger. He was starving, armour weak and brittle, colors faded out to pale and sickly looking shades of the gold and blue they’d been.
But he wouldn’t be starving for long, if he and his instincts had anything to do with it… And the prey was close. Nearly close enough to feed off of…
Gonna rebleach my roots today 👍 if I get it all even and light enough, I might try to go gray
I wanna say a big thank you for the lovely people who gave me money to get the last crappy faded color out of my hair, with enough left over to get pink and gray dye 💕💀💕
These aren’t necessarily tied together, but I obviously recommend you read them all. ;) Check out part one, two, and three or read them all on AO3!
“And anything I do or say better be okay when I have a bad hair day”
During their extended time away she’d let her hair color grow and fade out a bit. They were spending most of the time to themselves, and Oliver was intrigued, so she figured why not let him learn that part of her too?
But they were going back now, back to the lives they’d left behind, and before she could fully re-embrace her professional persona she needed to do something about this hair.