Angels walk among us. With crooked halos and shattered wings, they walk among us and try to remember what it felt like to be holy. Stretching out their arms and reminding themselves of what it felt like to soar.
Gods walk among us. Trapped inside too small bodies with nothing but the memories of when they were everything, and dream of the worlds and empires they helped forge. Their hands had once built galaxies, but now seemed so small.
Aliens walk among us. From far away worlds and twinkling stars, they carry on and wonder how they had gotten so far from home. One day they know they’ll traverse this galaxy once again, but until then they must make do with Earth.
Fae walk among us. Who try to remember their people, their customs, their dances, in a world that is convinced that they are children’s tales, and no more. Desperately trying to become themselves again, wondering if it was all simply a prank gone wrong, or something worse.
Forests walk among us. Those who remember their trees, their plants, the animals they kept safe under their canopy. Now they can only hope their small friends stay safe, until they can take care of them all again.
Animals walk among us. Wondering why they were stuck on two legs with none of their fur or feathers, scales or shells. Questioning why their voices suddenly are so wrong, so different from the cries they used to make. Surrounding themselves with whatever they can that reminds them of their home.
Ghosts walk among us. Clothed in flowing white and shadowy blues, wandering through areas that used to be solely theirs. They can no longer phase or float, but they make do. They have to.
Dragons walk among us. On feet without the claws they remember, and with heads held high despite the missing horns and fangs. They clamber forwards, rebuilding their hoard with every step of the way.
Dolls walk among us. Those with faded felt and chipped ceramics alike wondering why they were suddenly flesh. Looking over themselves and realizing their bodies were suddenly softer then they ever were, more sturdy then they ever were.
Galaxies walk among us. Made of star stuff and moonshine, infinitely growing forces trapped in too small bodies. Remembering what it felt like to span light years and wondering who had managed to trap supernovas into flesh and blood.
Monsters walk among us. In every shape and size; they walk; slither; crawl; and remember the days they were feared, and wonder if they really want that back. If they would want it back after finally being treated as a living creature with as much right to exist as anyone else.
Betrayers walk among us. With guilt-ridden hearts and regretful eyes. Who reassure themselves that it was the right thing to do, not quite sure if they believe themselves.
Saviors walk among us. With a shine in their eyes and smiles on their lips, reassuring all they come across that one day the sun will shine and all with be right once again.
Rebels walk among us. Causes long ago forgotten, but with fires still raging in their hearts. Challenging anything and everything. Unrest and revolutions follow them wherever they tread. Chaos and freedom, mixed together.
Survivors walk among us. Soldiers with nothing left to fear, who have instincts as their guide and luck on their side. Walking forward unafraid, because they’ve done this all before.
Immortals walk among us. Souls laden with sorrow, heartbreak slipping through their eyes. They know by now not to get close, but do so anyways because its the only thing that makes them feel anymore.
Soldiers walk among us. Hands itching for weapons they no longer have, tense with instincts they no longer need. Wondering why their body is so unmarred and unbroken. They had always done their best, but now they no longer knew if that was good enough. If it ever was good enough.
Children walk among us. Lost and afraid, they march forward, with the weights of a thousand impossibilities on their shoulders. These children are forgotten, and they would prefer to stay that way.
Cursed-folk walk among us. With cautious eyes and doubtful tones, who know that the world is against them now more than ever. Everything comes with a price, and they wonder if their price was truly worth it.
Mages walk among us. Hands of their magical tools of choice, ready to pull them out if necessary to defend or attack. Scared because this was the land their ancestors were killed in. Courageous because they continue forwards anyways.
Travelers walk among us. Those who took a wrong turn and found themselves in a world that isn’t theirs, hoping to one day find the way back. Strength rings through them, for they know they cannot- will not -stop until they reach their home.
Chosen Ones walk among us. Remembering what it felt like to be The One, The Savior, The Last Hope of their worlds- and wondering why that responsibility was ever thrust on them in the first place. Wondering why they had been abandoned back in their old world after fighting so hard for the one they had made their home.
Spirits walk among us. Spirits who see others like them in the corner of their eyes. Spirits who meet up in quiet secret places and remember, together, what it felt like to be themselves. Reassuring each other that one day they will all go Home.
Unicorns walk among us. Even with their horns no longer there, there is no doubt magic runs through them. They are blessed creatures, and they know it. Stars and sunlight glisten in their eyes, and every step plants flowers.
Demons walk among us. Still feeling the darkness in their blood, and the calls of others like them. Hell fire and brimstone smells dance on the breeze, luring them away. Luring them back home.
Dire Wolves walk among us. Even without their pack, they are fierce. Every step a calculation, every move planned.The hunt is on, and it looks like you are the prey. Get ready to run.
Dinosaurs walk among us. Long gone though they are, the continue forward. With pasts surrounded by mystery and unknowing. They are a varied folk, from carnivores to herbivores and everything in between. Large and small alike they fight on.
Winged Ones walk among us. Backs aching from wings they don’t have- limbs they haven’t had in a long time. The sky calls to them, begging them to come home, but they cannot reply. Stuck on the ground, staring hopefully up at the sky- one day they might go home, but not yet, not today.
Glitches walk among us. Scratches on the disk of reality, blips in the world. Tilt your head, look at them from a wrong angle- they might just be lens flares, might just be tricks of the imagination. The world warps around a being that is not there, that shouldn’t be there.
Hellhounds walk among us. Hellfire sprouts from their paths, infernos blaze just under their skin. Embers burn their paws, soot stains their fur. Wildness stirs in their hearts, urges them forward. Feral creatures, born from fire and darkness.
Vampires walk among us. Fangs stained red with blood that is not theirs. Pale as untouched snow, with hearts as dark as the night they rule. Voids twist around them, cloaking them in their shadows. Look out for too sharp grins at midnight, watch your steps.
Elements walk among us. Raging winds, blazing flames, crushing earth, and surging waters rush together. Combining to make impossible possibilities, incredible worlds, exploding worlds. Elements that made up entire worlds now spinned into bones.
The Undead walk among us. Shuffling and stuttering, wondering if this makes them undead undead. Flesh now whole and bones unbroken, feeling their heartbeat course through their veins once again, feeling the air filling their lungs once again.
Werefolk walk among us. Bodies no longer shifting as they once did, permanently stuck on their two legs, for better or for worse. From all walks of life, they shifted into anything and everything. They do what they can to remind themselves of what if had felt like to themselves again.
Starseeds walk among us. Those that have lived only a few lives and those that have lived hundreds walking together. Taking the same steps they’ve taken who knows how many times before. Memories trickle back to them, small ones and big ones alike replaying in their minds. Doing their best to remember their mission and goals.
Mermaids walk among us. Although, maybe walk would be the wrong word. Figuring out how to walk on separate limbs that used to be one. Feeling most at home when submerged in water, sometimes forgetting their new bodies need oxygen. Strong arms and new legs propelling them through water, making them relearn a skill that they’d known since birth.
Death Omens walk among us. Afraid if their mere presence curses everyone around them. Keeping to themselves, just in case. Wondering how much of their past life carries on to their new life. Afraid that their mere touch could end lives, wondering if its their fault every time catastrophe hits.
Psychopomps walk among us. Remembering their jobs, remembering their duty. Even when they hated it, they remember what that must do. Both an impartial guide and a guardian protector. It was not their job to judge, simply to provide a safe passage from here to whatever lies beyond. Smiling in the face of death, knowing that they are not here for them.
Shadows walk among us. Twisting and shifting, not solid forms but far from intangible. They are everywhere and nowhere all at once, watching on to every act, recording passively that actions of others, while also defending those in need, actively stepping out to protect. They are the night and the stars, and yet also the shifting woods and deadly blades that flash in the shade. They are, and they aren’t.
Prisoners walk among us. Remembering shackles and chains holding them back, holding them down. Forced in cages and cells, forced to repent. But now- now they are free. They are free to walk and speak and run. Every part of their soul sings. Shackles now rusted off, chains now broken- they have no intentions of ever putting them back on.
Robots walk among us. Rusty joints and electricity running through them. Mechanical men, made to work with no need for sustenance. Inorganic beings with artificial intelligence, making themselves better, making themselves evolve. Their jobs are not yet done.
Mountains walk among us. Their strength and fortitude transformed into movable flesh and feeble bones. Eons of near unending life taken away and replaced with a life of hardly a century. Where once they were feared and respected, they are now hardly ever seen.
Winter Sprites walk among us. Ice on their fingers, frost in their hair. Snow falls over their trail, painting the frozen landscape a chilling white. A shiver trails up your spine when they pass, followed by a freezing breeze- winter spirits in their element can freeze the world over, if one could be bothered to do so.
Seers walk among us. They watch, wide eyed and humbled, at the creatures who walk around them. Wings and horns and twisted bits, wandering through crowded streets. Their oddities, invisible to most, show bright and clear to the perceptive eyes of those who watch.
(want me to add one? Leave a reply and I’ll add it to the original)
“I want to have your baby,” is a particular string of words
that is only considered acceptable in a certain number of situations.
Maybe between two lovers getting lost in the moment of their
heightened feelings, and somehow the words just slip — that’s probably the most
common occurrence of the phrase. Or maybe it’s a night out, alcohol in your
system, and the words just sort of spill past your lips to the most
ridiculously attractive stranger you’ve ever seen before you can even think to
stop them. Even that, can still be considered at least borderline passable
usage of the phrase. Hell, even the instance of a teenage girl proclaiming her
love for her favorite celebrity with the heavy proclamation is still considered
normal for the most part.
These, along with a few far-fetched others, were the only
situations you could think of that allowed for the usage of those six words to
be passable, yet, here you were, uttering that exact phrase, when you were in
absolutely none of them. You weren’t getting caught up in the moment
with lust-glazed eyes, you weren’t drunk and spewing nonsense at a bar to some
guy, and you most certainly weren’t some star struck teenage girl staring up at
her celebrity crush’s poster.
No, you were none of those things.
Instead, you were sitting across from your ex-boyfriend
telling him that you wanted to have his baby… Yeah, totally passable usage of the
Description: Your CEO caught your attention the first day you started your new job and it seems the attraction is mutual. Too bad he’s only interested in a relationship that benefits him.
Pairing: Yoongi x Reader x Jungkook
Genre: Angst and Smut
Word Count: 23,243
A/N: Eternal thanks to my number one cheerleader and motivator, @avveh, for constantly rooting for me even when I felt like banging my head on the keyboard. Not to mention for beta reading this monster. For anyone who can’t read this on the tumblr app I suggest checking out the AO3 link or opening it on a browser/computer.
"HANNAH FUCKED CLAY'S LIFE AND OF EVERYONE ON THE TAPES"
Okay. I just want to say what i think about this. I’ve seeing a lot of people hating on hannah because she “ ruined clay’s and Alex, Zach, etc…lifes.”
Clay didn’t deserve to be on the tapes but he MUST be because as Hannah said was her story and if she was going to tell it Clay couldn’t stay outside.
Tony did not deserve the burden that Hannah left him but I also understand Hannah a lot and because she did the things she did.
Also, we have only some of the reasons. Not all. For which Hannah killed herself, because the list said more.
Besides that, is true that Clay suffered a lot and if Hannah had been clearer with him surely she would have saved.
But Hannah was very hurted and got tired of asking for help from the wrong people and Clay really liked her so I understand why she felt afraid and was embarrassed to tell Clay what was wrong. (Removing the fact that she thought it was only going to ruin him, I think it went beyond that)
She didn’t want to lose him but she losed him anyway because he ended up going.
The point here is not Hannah.
Unfortunately, the point here is Clay. And Tony. And all who could do something but did not.
The point of the story is that, it makes everyone stand up and think ‘I should have listened, I should have said this, I should have insisted’
When Tony said he ignored the tapes until half an hour later because he thought Hannah was a bit dramatic. When Clay got scared and left the room because he did not know how to react. All those are things that they know were wrong. They could have changed everything from having been a bit braver or not to have judged.
So I’m not judging Hannah or thinking that she was wrong for put Clay in the tapes, Clay already suffered from panic and anxiety before the tapes.
This just hit him more and did all that because he suffered those things and Hannah didn’t knew but still, Clay needed to know the truth.
And Tony told to him this several times.
If Clay did not listen to the tapes, there would be no story.
Besides, was needed that clay to be brave to make everyone recognize their mistakes and do justice. If Hannah never made the tapes, what happened to her was going to keep happening.
And that’s what the show want to teach and that’s what Clay tries to prevent.
Yesterday I read that a girl put “I hate Hannah because of her Clay’s going to spend his whole life trying to save everyone”
I think not just Clay, everyone on the tapes are going to think twice before doing things and I think that’s not bad.
Sometimes the truth hurts. Sometimes people prefer to ignore things to do something because it’s very painful to face it or take justice. But sometimes ignoring it is worse. And that’s what Clay learns. That it is necessary to speak when one has to speak and do something, that one has to be courageous.
That’s why Clay also continues passing the tapes at the end to Porter because everyone needs to take responsibility for what they did. ( also that jessica asked him for do it)
And if you can not live with it, you try to live to repair it. And If what you did has no way of being fixed you have to live with it in the way you can.
But you can’t live like nothing if you made someone kill himself.
No matter how few intentions you had or how little you did compared to others, you did it, and anyway, none of those who did Hannah things had good intentions.
Not even Zach.
That’s why, although for clay it was very painful to listen to the tapes and this almost did killed himself ( i cried a lot in that part) I think he had to listen to them and it’s like Tony said “you’re not God, you can’t stop everything”
Clay only feels guilty because he couldn’t save Hannah but none of they could, they all failed even if Clay loved her.
Tony is very sensible about what he said to Clay, because he needed to know about the tapes but he also had to know that he should not be there, that he didn’t do anything wrong, and that he was the only reason Hannah could have had to stay.
But I think guilt sometimes causes people to react.
And even if to Alex made him kill himself, if the tapes did not exist they would all have continued to live their lives quiet while Hannah killed herself.
And Bryce and all those who fucked up his life would never stop hurting others.
What is being said behind the scenes “if Bryce or any of them don’t get a cost for what they did, they will keep doing it over and over again.”
So I think everything had to be in that way. If Clay wasn’t on the tapes, nothing would have happened and no one would have done justice.
Jessica would have believed Justin just as long as who knows and when she knew, she would not have the courage to talk about it or face anyone. Justin would never have considered the things he did or would never have had to tell Jessica the truth or face Bryce and break their false friendship. Bryce would never have confessed and would continue raping girls because no one of who are in the tapes faced bryce. They just left it that way. They kept their mouths shut for their own protection.
The only one who did something is Clay. And Alex would have continued to do things to be part of the bryce group and the idiots. Alex would have continued to do lists or who knows other things.
Marcus would have continued to play girls whenever he felt like it.
(And although many believe that zach is innocent and what he did was minimal or not important, I do not think so) maybe what Zach did was minimal compared to others in the tapes. But it matters. In the end, everything matters.
As hannah said is a snowball that is getting bigger.
So Zach stole the only source of happiness that Hannah had at that time (besides he being very childish making this lmao) and not only that, Hannah wrote to him a letter telling him how much she was suffering and that she needed those compliments.
And Zach ignored the letter. Maybe he did not throw it. Maybe he saved it. A point for Zach.
But he ignored her. He did not do anything. And sometimes don’t do anything is worse than doing it. That’s what the series is all about.
Maybe Zach was scared but I refuse to have compassion on him and minimize what he did, because minimizing what Zach did would be minimize the pain of hannah, and I think we’ve all learned that’s a BIG mistake. Minimizing the pain of others is not good. Zach might have a good heart … or not.
I’ve seen the series already three times and I could not help think: why do y'all overlook the scenes where Zach is a bully? LITERALLY. Zach laughs and encourages Bryce to send the picture of hannah from Justin’s phone, Zach makes obscene gestures along with marcus and the others to Hannah in the hallways after Alex’s list, Zach pushes Clay down the hallway and mocks on him. Zach stoled clay’s bike with Alex and Justin. ZACH AS THE OTHERS KEEP SILENCE ON A RAPIST. Zach continued to be friends with this rapist. Was Zach scared to help Hannah? But not scared enough to bullied others?
Maybe Zach wanted to be a marine biologist and maybe he’s allergic to strawberries. But I’m not interested. Because Zach is no different from the rest. And if Clay had not scratched his car, and if he had not faced Zach, maybe Zach would have done worse things in the future, he would have never felt guilty at all.
If Hannah did not make the tapes or did not include Clay in them, maybe Mr. Porter would never know the truth and ignore other people asking for help or advised them wrong again, and Hannah’s story would be repeated.
Maybe Courtney would continue to pretend to be friends with everyone and use people to cover her homosexuality. And Tyler would continue to spy on people and stalking people through his windows and would continue to take photos and violating the privacy of others if Clay had not faced him and the tapes did not exist, because he would never understand what hannah felt if clay did not make him feels it too.
And Ryan would continue stealing things that do not belong to him and leaving others in ridicule for his own arrogance.
And Clay would never know that it is better to say things when you should and when you have the opportunity because you could save a life.
And nobody would know the importance of what they did and said. And sheri would continue to do bad things and leave them that way that could lead to the death of more people and not just Jeff. And there would be more than one Jeff.
The only one different on the tapes is Clay. So clay had to be in the tapes because otherwise, they would all have continued to live and who knows if the tapes had kept going, maybe Bryce would have burned them and no one would ever know the truth more than they. And maybe he would have even looked for Tony to get rid of the copies or who knows.
Because not even Tony was encouraged to do something when he knew the whole truth Even Tony did not know what to do, just Clay.
Because it’s easy to stand up and say “Hannah is a bitch she ruined everyone’s life with the tapes”
But what about her life? Who would pay anything for ruined Hannah’s life?
Were all the others supposed to keep living peacefully because Hannah was dramatic and crazy according to them? No.
Hannah and Clay are the ones who didn’t deserve so much pain throughout history. Then maybe a little bit Alex and Jessica.
But everyone else deserved to be on the tapes and deserved to take responsibility for what they did. And I think Hannah was not dramatic. That’s all. Thank you if you read this mess until the end.
Summary- When Cedric Diggory died, he left behind his loving girlfriend, the daughter of Severus Snape, to mourn him.
Warnings- Lot’s of sadness, loss of a loved one, just lot’s of death. (Flashbacks are in italics)
You were cheering at first, clapping your hands in joy when you saw Harry and Cedric had both made it back alive, though, in a mere few seconds your happiness was washed over and replaced with horror when you noticed Harry was sobbing and Cedric had not moved from his place on the ground.
Ok I'm trying to keep hope, so what if Kara is really only getting with Mon-El so that she can deny and push down her feelings for Lena? Bc if not the idek what to think just I really hope that's all it is.
Oh honey, the Swan Queen fandom has been doing this for years, and it is a beautiful and clever and necessary coping mechanism. Here. Enjoy.
Alex calls for an emergency Sisters’ Night. In fact, she
And Kara is excited, because Rao, does she need to talk to
Alex. And Rao, does she need to hear Alex talk, because so much is going on
with Maggie, and with her lab work to find Jeremiah, and with J’onn missing
M’gann, and with just… everything.
But even more than talking, Kara just wants to snuggle on
the couch with her big sister.
So when Alex lets herself into her apartment and Maggie
trails in apologetically behind her, Kara bristles.
She adjusts her glasses and she forces a smile. “Hey
Maggie,” she strains, reminding herself sternly that Maggie has been through so
much, that Maggie was just retraumatized, that Maggie is probably going to be
her sister-in-law one day, so might as well start attending Sisters’ Nights
But Alex is throwing up her hands and taking Kara by the
shoulders, because she knows her sister, and she knows the war that’s raging in
her head, in her heart.
“So, Kara, I lied. I want to do Sisters’ Night, just you and
me. Because Sisters’ Night will always just be for us. But, tomorrow. Not
tonight. I lied, and I’m sorry about that, but I was afraid you’d tell us not
to come over if I told you…”
Kara backs away from Alex and furrows her brow.
“If you told me what?”
“We’re worried about you, Kara,” Maggie chimes, and holds
out a bag of potstickers that Kara hadn’t noticed before, and Kara snatches them
with narrowed eyes and a suspicious glare.
She sits down with a grunt and begrudgingly nods her sister
and her sister’s girlfriend to do the same. Alex and Maggie exchange a glance,
and it’s like they can read each other’s minds, they work together so
Kara feels a stab of something like jealousy, but she knows
it’s not about Alex. She’s purely happy for Alex. It’s about something else,
something different. Something that she hopes against hope that Alex an Maggie
aren’t going to try to make her talk about, because Rao, she doesn’t know how
she can handle it if they do.
She tears into the potstickers and blinks. “So, what are you
Maggie and Alex exchange that glance again, and Alex leans
forward and puts her hand on Kara’s knee.
“Kara, you know I respect you. And I respect your judgment,
and I respect your heart. I love what a big heart you have. It’s what makes you
a hero. But Kara, I…”
“You’re getting with Mon-El, Little Danvers, even though you
really kind of seem to hate him, and that’s… we’re worried about you, Kara. Not
because we don’t think you can handle yourself, or because we don’t respect
your decisions, but because I… we… we know what it’s like to be with someone
because you feel like you have to, not because you really want to.”
Kara nearly chokes on a potsticker, and Alex thumps her back
mechanically, her eyes fixed on her sister’s face.
“That’s ridiculous,” she splutters when she finally
swallows. “I don’t feel like I have to do anything, I’m Supergirl,
I – ”
“Well, Mon-El doesn’t seem to respect that, and you don’t
seem to think he does, either.”
“I’ve never told you anything like – what are you talking
about, I – ”
“Kara,” Maggie says, her voice soft and her voice full of
understanding pain, mixed with the beginnings of ironic humor. “The entire DEO
heard you yelling at him. And lemme tell you, for secret agents, your people
are pretty terrible at, you know. Keeping secrets.”
Alex mock-glares at Maggie before leveling Kara with a look
of significant concern.
“Oh please, Detective, it’s not like any of that was
a secret. Kara was shouting what a misogynist, unsupportive,
manipulative, disrespectful, gaslighting, mansplaining – ”
“Nice new vocab, Danvers.”
“Thanks babe, I’m trying.”
“Alex, I – ”
“Oh, I’m sorry Kara, did you want me to stop that list?”
Alex’s tone, the way she’s caressing Kara’s face, is much softer than her
words. “Because I don’t have to. I have more, and they all seem to have come
from your mouth in one way or another – ”
“Alex – ”
“And I love you, Kara. I love you, more than
anything, more than life itself, so here’s the thing I can’t understand: why
are you throwing yourself at this guy when he spends every waking minute trying
to stomp all over the powerful woman that you are? It would be like me actually
going for Max Lord or something – ”
“You and Maxwell Lord were a thing?”
“Ew, god, no, which is exactly why I can’t understand what
you’re thinking, Kara.”
“And she’s not blaming you, Little Danvers, no one’s angry
at you – ”
“No, Maggie’s right, I’m not, I just – ”
“We’re just worried, Kara. Your sister loves you, and I’m
growing to love you, a lot, and hell, even J’onn asked us – and believe you me,
it was as awkward as it sounds – if we could talk to you to make sure you’re
really okay, because this is… we’re worried about you, Kara. So are you? Okay?”
Maybe it’s something in Maggie’s soft eyes, or maybe it’s
the way Alex is stroking her hair, or maybe it’s the way they’re both going
through so much of their own struggles right now, but they’re making it a point
to check in with her. Or maybe it’s all of it, everything, the way his hands
were too fast and his tongue too eager, the way he’s an okay guy, she supposes,
but as a wayward brother or something, not as a lover, but she was so worn down
and she’s just so tired and maybe it’s everything, all of it, because Kara
She breaks into her sister’s arms and immediately she feels
the walls of Alex’s love rise up around her, protecting her from all her
enemies, protecting her from herself.
Immediately she hears Maggie kneel down in front of the
sisters, in front of her Danvers girls, a hand on Alex’s knee and a hand
hovering over the small of Kara’s back until Kara nods through her sobbing that
Maggie can touch her, of course Maggie can touch her, because god it feels good
to be held by two women who love her for exactly who she is, not for what they
imagine her to be, what they wish she were.
“I’m so…” She gasps wildly for breath and Alex kisses her
forehead, smoothes her hair, rocks her, rocks her, rocks her. “I’m so scared,
Alex,” she chokes through her gasping, through her tears.
“Shhh, I know, it’s okay. I’ve got you, Kara. I love you, I
love you, shhhhh. Cry it out, Kara, it’s okay, it’s okay. I’m here. I’m here,
always. I’m here, I’m here, I’m here.”
Tears bite at Alex’s eyes, and she glances down across
Kara’s body to meet Maggie’s, and she’s almost surprised to see tears gleaming
in Maggie’s eyes, as well, and she knows it’s not the time, but she also knows,
beyond doubt, that she’s in love with her.
Kara grabs at the back of Alex’s sweater and is forcibly
reminded of when Cat grabbed at the back of Supergirl’s suit – her suit
– and it’s suddenly all too much, suddenly all needs to come out, no matter how
scared she is.
Suddenly, she knows she needs to dive.
“I didn’t want to, Alex, I didn’t want to because you were
just coming out and I’ve taken so much from you, so much attention, for so many
years, I didn’t want to do it again – ”
“Kara, it’s okay, everything’s okay. I’m not angry, I’m not
going to be angry, but what… what are you talking about?”
Alex’s face is a map of compassionate confusion and Maggie’s
face is a map of compassionate realization, and she glances at Alex because here
we go again.
“I was in love with James, so… so in love with him,” Kara
gasps, and Maggie nods slowly, and Alex just tries to keep up as she wipes
Kara’s running nose with the tissue Maggie passes her.
“And kissing him was nice, it was… he was lovely, he is lovely,
and I love him, I do, but it… it didn’t feel… ka-pow.”
Alex smiles uncomprehendingly but supportively, and Maggie
smiles knowingly, and they both rub soothing circles onto Kara’s skin as she
gathers the courage to continue.
“And I didn’t understand it, I didn’t have to words for it,
but then… but then you came out and I was doing research, for you, and I found…
I found out that you can be in love, straight love, but not want to have sex
with men, be asexual towards men, even though you can be in love with them… and
that you can… you can also… at the same time…”
She glances down at Maggie, and Maggie nods slowly at her, a
small smile on her lips, because like sister like sister.
“You can also like girls. Women. Romantically. And even
Comprehension starts to dawn on Alex’s face now, too, and
she gets flashes of Kara spending so many nights crying when Cat left National
City, of her terror when Livewire got loose again, because Livewire had tried,
so hard, to kill Cat.
Of Kara adjusting her glasses a bit extra whenever Lena came
up in conversation.
Of Kara steadfastly refusing to lose faith in Lena, even
when everything looked, well, grim.
Of Kara’s desperation to find her. Of her
more-than-just-everyday-heroics willingness to die for her. Of her beautifully,
passionately written article vindicating her.
“Kara,” is all Alex says, all Alex can say, as she pulls her
little sister in closer, closer, closer.
“I’m sorry, Alex,” Kara chokes, pushing back, pushing away,
so she can look Alex in the face. “I don’t want to take attention away from
your coming out, I don’t… I don’t even know what to label it all, I just know
that I… I’m so scared that if I…”
“If you don’t throw yourself into the most easily available
thing – if you don’t surrender to the guilt he’s putting you through – you’ll
have to confront your feelings for Lena Luthor,” Maggie supplies softly,
softly, because Kara is shaking so badly, and Maggie knows that look, knows
when someone needs to hear the words before they can say them themselves, and
sure enough, when Maggie says it, Kara stops trembling quite so much, and her
tears become of the silent variety, and she nods, nods, nods.
“Please don’t be mad,” she whispers to Alex, and Alex does
nothing but shake her head and kiss her face, tears and snot and all.
“Kara, listen to me. I need you to really listen, and I
need…” She glances down at Maggie as she cups Kara’s cheeks in her hands, and
Maggie gives her a small smile. “I need you to really hear me. I would
never, ever, ever be mad at you for loving whoever you love. However you
love them. Because whoever you love, and whatever kind of love it is, whatever
kind of intimacy you want with them? That’s absolutely fine. It’s absolutely
perfect. You’re absolutely fine. You’re absolutely perfect. And I would never
be angry at you, or disappointed in you, or resentful toward you, for being who
you are. I promise. Alright?”
Kara shudders and smiles and reaches for the last of the
Alex chuckles and Maggie laughs and Kara chews with a
“Will you help me break up with him? I still care about him,
as a person – ”
“We both will, Kara. Whatever you need.”
“You got it, Little Danvers.”
“And then… then maybe you can help me talk to Lena?”
Alex groans with a smile and Maggie laughs and puts both
hands on Kara’s thighs as she stands up to slip onto her girlfriend’s mock-traumatized
“Of course we will, Little Danvers. Of course we will.”
Malala Turned 18 Yesterday and Opened a School for Syrian Refugee Girls
The fund’s blog quotes Yousafzai:
“I am honored to mark my 18th birthday with the brave and inspiring girls of Syria. I am here on behalf of the 28 million children who are kept from the classroom because of armed conflict. Their courage and dedication to continue their schooling in difficult conditions inspires people around the world and it is our duty to stand by them,” Malala said. “On this day, I have a message for the leaders of this country, this region and the world — you are failing the Syrian people, especially Syria’s children. This is a heartbreaking tragedy — the world’s worst refugee crisis in decades.”
TAYLOR I DID IT!! I graduated college!! Thank you for giving me the strength, courage, and hope to continue even when I thought I wasn’t going to make it. I owe you so much. Thank you!!!!
Also, for those of you fighting any sort of mental/physical illness please know that you can achieve your dreams. Take it one day at a time. Even when the worst days make you wish you weren’t alive. You CAN do it. It took me 7 years to get my Bachelor’s degree in Psychology and it was worth it. Life never goes as planned. Just keep fighting and believing in your dreams!
Thank you Taylor for everything. I LOVE YOU! @taylorswift
Major props to Roman, though. The WWE is probably never gonna find a guy willing to constantly take one for the entire locker room like this again. Even when he knows he going to get heat for booking, he still goes out there with the passion to entertain. Respect.
It takes courage to continue doing something you love even when the deck is stacked against you.
Prompt: Set after season 6, ep 18 “Lauren.” The reader was roommates with Emily, and goes to Spencer for comfort. Inspired from the scene where Reid had admitted of thinking of taking drugs again to JJ after Emily comes back in season 7, ep 2.
Spencer stared at the syringe and the small bottle that he placed on the top of the sink. He looked back at the mirror, staring at his own haunted expression and red eyes. He could do it right now and no one would bother him. It wouldn’t hurt this much anymore.
But Emily would be so disappointed.
He shut his eyes close as he swallowed the cry that was lounged in his throat. It’s been five weeks since Emily died, and it still hurt to even think about her. The guilt of not doing enough and the crushing pain he would feel whenever he saw the empty desk beside him was enough to plunge the needle into his arm. He just didn’t want to feel anymore, and he wanted this pain to go away. If he couldn’t save Emily, then who could he save?
The doorbell ringing snapped him out of his thoughts and panic bubbled inside his stomach. He quickly shoved the syringe and bottles into cupboard, looked at himself to make sure that nothing was wrong before he could see who the guest was. He quickly crossed the rooms to open the door, and his breath hitched when he saw who it was.
It was Y/N.
She was drenched, and Spencer didn’t even realize that it was raining outside. His heart clenched when he saw the red eyes and haunted face, and he blinked rapidly to hide his own tears. “Hey,” She said, giving him a tired smile. “Were you sleeping?”
He shook his heads and stepped aside to let her in as he took in her hunched form. "You’re drenched,” he said and wanted to slap his forehead because what a great question genius.
“I was just walking around,” She answered, her voice scratchy. “It suddenly started to rain and I didn’t have an umbrella.”
“You were walking around? At this time?” He said, his voice a bit louder than usual. It was past midnight, and you would think that she would be more careful considering what they see at their jobs.
“It’s better than staying at home,” She whispered, and immediately Spencer felt bad for raising his voice.
Y/N had joined the the team just after Rossi and immediately connected with Emily first before him. Y/N couldn’t find a steady place to stay so Emily offered her apartment and the two quickly became best friends and roommate. So for Y/N to be in a place where she spent so much time with Emily must be hard.
“I am sorry,” He whispered. “Come in, I’ll get you some clothes for you to change.“
"No Spence it’s-”
“You’ll get sick. Please,” He said, and Y/N reluctantly nodded her head. He went to his room and got out with some of his old clothes. With a grateful smile, she took it and headed towards the bathroom. He strode to the kitchen and put the kettle on, knowing she preferred tea over coffee. He started the coffee machine and rubbed his face to keep the tiredness away for now.
He turned to Y/N and froze at what she was holding. He looked back to her face, expecting to see the disgust or pity in her eyes, yet all he saw was empathy. As if she knew exactly what he was feeling, or going through right now. Wordlessly she placed the syringe and the dilaudid on the coffee table and searched her bag for something. She took it out and placed it beside the dilaudid.
Razor blades. Three of them.
He looks back at her, shock clear on his face. He really looks at her now, taking in his sweater and his sweatpants hanging on loosely. There is an vulnerable expression, her posture hunched in, as if to protect herself from criticism or disgust. What drew him the most is the tears that filled her eyes, threatening to fall down. He could feel his own eyes tearing up as he crossed the room and took her in his arms. They both broke down, clutching onto each other as they cry their hearts out.
They don’t know how long they say there, embraced and lost in their grief. The whistling from the kettle broke them out of their embrace, and she looked guilty at his wet shirt. “Sorry about that,” she said, nodding at the wet spot on his shirt.
“Don’t worry about it,” Spencer murmured, wiping away the remaining tears. With a small smile he walked to the kitchen to get the tea and coffee. Y/N sniffled, wiping her tears with Spencer’s long sleeves. She looked back when Spencer enters with a cup of her favorite tea. She smiled tiredly, noticing his dark circles and red eyes.
“Thanks,” She whispered, and with a tug on her arm they both sat on the couch. She tucked her legs under her, keeping some space between Spencer. There was a hesitation in the air, as if they were not sure of themselves after such intimate moment.
“I never told anyone about that,” Y/N said, her voice soft as she nodded to the blades. “That’s why I was walking around. If I was in my apartment, I think I would have given in.”
“Oh,” Spencer mustered, continued to looking at his coffee. “I understand. If you hadn’t come maybe I would have too.”
“What stopped you?”
“Emily,” Spencer whispered, tears immediately filling his eyes.
“Did she know?”
“The whole team knows, except for Seavar and Rossi. It happened when she was new,” He answered, a shake in his voice. “We were on this case-“
“You don’t need to tell me,” she told him in empathy. She knew how hard it is to open up about something like this, and that’s why she never told anyone when she moved to Quantico.
“I want to,” he looked up at her, his face showing determination. “We were on this case in Atlanta, and the unsub was suffering from dissociate identity disorder. One of his personalities would torture me while Tobias, the unsub, would drug me with dilaudid. He said it would help, but it only made things worse.”
There was a haunted look in his eyes, and Y/N reached over to hold his hand. Spencer snapped out of his memories when he looked down at their intertwined hands, and he looked up to see her up close with an broken expression. She squeezed his hand, letting him know that she was there and if he needed to stop it was fine. There was no judgment in her eyes, just understanding.
“He made me choose which family to kill, and I had to. They died right in front of me,” his voice cracked at the end, but Y/N didn’t make a move to get closer. She let her own tears flow, her heart aching for the man sitting beside her. He wasn’t looking at her, just staring forward and continuing with his story.
“I had to kill him and his last words were thank you. I took the two bottles of dilaudid from his dead body, and I tried at first to not get high. But the pain and nightmares were too much-“
“And you wanted an escape,” she finished for him.
“Yeah,” he agreed. He swallowed down in nervousness, trying to not break down again. “The team noticed, of course, but they couldn’t do anything officially. Emily was new at that time, and it was easier to snap at her than others.” He concentrated on the patterns she was drawing on top of his hand, drawing comfort and courage to continue.
“But she was very understanding,” He continued, looking back at Y/N with teary eyes. “Hotch couldn’t talk about it officially because then I would have lost my job. Gideon helped, but even though I have been clean for 3 years 2 months and 28 days now, the cravings never leave. It only increases when you are in pain.”
“I know,” Y/n consoled, continuing to draw circles. She placed the cup with her free hand, and gently, almost hesitantly, placed her head on his shoulder. He rested his head on top of hers, wrapping his arm around her shoulder to bring her closer. They both needed the comfort, whether it was physical or emotional.
“My parents divorced when I was 14. It was really messy, both of them were fighting over every single thing. I felt so lost because I always thought that they loved each other you know? Everything got too much for me, so I started to cut myself,” she started, and maybe it is because Spencer was open about his experience that it makes it easier for to do the same.
“Cutting is another outlet for coping with problems. It may help you express feelings you can’t put into words, distract you from your life, or release emotional pain. 90% of people who engage in self harm begin during their teen or pre-adolescent,” Spencer told her, rambling off statistics. He winced outward, knowing that facts were not comforting words to many.
But it brought a small smile on her face, because she knew that facts comforted Spencer, and she knew that it was his way to comfort others. “Then my dad died in an car accident when I turned 17 and made sure that my mom would not get a single penny,” Her voice suddenly shook, remembering the numbness she felt at that time. Spencer tightened his grip, now his turn to draw circles on her hand.
“He left all of his money and properties to me, and that made my mom so mad. As soon as I turned 18 she threw me out of my house. It didn’t matter really, they both stopped being my parents a long time ago. I guess my dad left everything for me because of guilt. The cuttings made me feel better, but I tried to get better when I started college. I got help but it never went away you know.
“Then I got pregnant.”
“What?” He stuttered, not expecting that. His mind went blank because Y/N never talked about her child, and his eyes widen with the possibility of why.
“A lot people thought it was the biggest mistake of my life. 18 and pregnant, but she was the best thing that ever happened to me. The father got scared and ran off, but it didn’t matter.”
“What’s her name?” He asked tenderly, his heart heavy with sadness for the woman beside him.
“Lily,” she whispered, her voce breaking into a sob. She sniffed back, blinking her eyes to stop crying. It was so hard to even say her name after so long. “It was so weird. She hated lilies because she said people would always give her that rather than roses. But I finally had a family. It was just me and her, but it was more than enough. Everything was perfect. It was hard but so worth it.”
There was nostalgia in her voice, a longing that he knew that would always be there. He choked back his own sobs, trying to stay strong for her. “How did she-“
A shudder went through her body as she shut her eyes closed and clenched her jaw. He felt her shudder and brought her closer to him in order to comfort her. “It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me,” He whispered to her, pressing a kiss on her forehead.
“I couldn’t save her. I was the youngest detective at that time with the highest success rate in the state and I couldn’t save her. That’s why I became a profiler, so that others won’t have to go through what I experienced. But I couldn’t save Emily when it mattered the most, and now I feel so useless. If I can’t save those who I love, then what’s the use of this job Spence?”
“I know,” He whispered, burying his head in her hair. She practically sat on his lap, tucking her head in the crook of his neck as they both grieved. They don’t know when they stopped crying or when they both fell asleep on the couch, legs tangled and bodies pressed against each other.
All they know is that it was the first time since they didn’t have a nightmare since Emily’s death.
The moment Y/N wakes up, she instantly knew that it wasn’t her bed. She felt someone’s breathing down her neck, and she opened her eyes to find herself flushed to someone’s chest. She looks up to see Spencer snoring softly and mouth slightly open. She smiled at the cute look on his face and notices that he has his arms wrapped around her waist, making it harder for her to get up. She glances at the coffee table, taking in the blades, syringes and the half empty cups and suddenly realizes that she didn’t have a nightmare.
She had a light headache and her eyes felt dry because of all the crying she did last night (or was it early morning?) and she was squeezed on the couch with Spencer. But all she felt safe, with his arms around her and legs tangled with each other. She settled back onto his arm, closing her eyes and going to the dreamland with him.
It was the weekend, so she knew that they won’t get called in. All she wanted right now was feeling safe, and in his arms she found it.
a/n: hello! this wasn’t requested, i’m just very bored and in the mood to write and so this happened. im remus TRASH and it’s obvious in this. but hey! my first piece of writing on this blog! wow! anyways, enjoy!!
WORD COUNT: 1,506 (damn i got hella carried away yikes)
Y/N rolled over in bed, the curtains closed and the noticeable absence of her dorm-mate’s quiet breathing slightly unsettling. She never quite fancied staying in the castle for winter hols, but Sirius and James had practically begged her to.
Y/N reached out and pulled back the curtains, and, noting the lack of light in the room, she assumed it must have still been the middle of the night. Her brow furrowed.
Strange. She normally slept like a hippogriff, undisturbed.
Y/N sat up, running a hand through her hair as she looked out of the frost covered window. It was still nighttime, the moon hanging high in the sky and illuminating her half of the room.
A groan from the other side of Y/N’s bed had her scrambling for her wand, flailing in her blankets wildly. She turned, wand pointed and the beginning of a stunner on her lips as she lay tangled in her sheets.
Instead of the intruder she suspected, Y/N found the slumped, lanky form of Remus Lupin on her dorm room floor. Well, now she knew that the disturbance that woke her was just Remus falling over. Classy.
Y/N rolled her eyes, knowing that he, Sirius, James, and Peter had almost definitely delved into Sirius’ firewhiskey stash. A quick tempus charm told Y/N that it was 3AM.
Sighing, Y/N threw her covers off and climbed out of the warm safety of her bed. A shiver caused goosebumps to rise over her skin as her feet touched the cold floor and her bare legs were exposed to the frigid air. Y/N waved her wand at the fireplace, sighing in relief as the flames began to dance.
Y/N knelt next to Remus’ half-conscious form, an eyebrow raised in bemusement. She placed a hand between Remus’ shoulder blades, shaking him gently.
“Remus. Your room is across the commonroom. How did you even get up here? Did James charm the stairs again?”
Remus’ eyes opened groggily, a lazy but elated smile spreading across his scarred face when his eyes met hers. “Y/N! Perfect, you are just the bird I wanted to see!”
Remus rose to his knees, his lanky form now taller than Y/N’s although he was hunched over. Y/N snorted at his antics, knowing he was slammed just by the fact that he had called her a ‘bird’.
“Is that right? And why’s that, then, Moony?”
Remus began to shake is head, groaning in a way a child would when denied sweets; head thrown back, whining tone, pouted lips. It took all Y/N had not to laugh.
“Noo! Don’t call me Moony, call me Remus. I love it when you call me Remus, I love hearing you say my name. It’s always ‘Moony, this’ and ‘Moony, that.’ Call me Remus. Please.”
Y/N’s heart leapt in her chest, her face heating up as a blush crawled up her neck and to her face.
“Well, Remus, why did you need to stumble into my room at 3AM, hammered off your arse?”
Remus nodded, his face set in an adorably determined grimace.
“Yes. Right. Well, you see, I had very much to drink. Definitely more than I should have. Prongs and Pads are very persuasive.”
Y/N grinned, still having to hold him steady so he didn’t fall over. “Yes, I can see that.”
Remus shushed her, placing his finger firmly over her lips.
“Shusshhh. Padfoot is right, I’ll never get this out if I’m not pissed.”
Y/N looked annoyed at being shushed, but moved his hand away from her mouth and nodded for him to continue. Remus took a deep breath, nodding as he prepared himself.
“Right. Okay. Here goes. So, thing is, I love you. I am so utterly and completely smitten with you, Y/N, it’s sad. And a tad creepy.”
Y/N’s eyes widened, and she opened her mouth, but Remus continued before she could get a word in.
“A-And I’m terrified. As much as I am in love with you utterly and completely, I am fucking horrified with myself. Because you are everything that I do not deserve. You’re beautiful, and pure, and kind, and talented and y-you always smell so nice! A-And I’m damaged, and a dangerous, awful, scarred, lonely monster.”
Y/N was trying in vain to stop tears from gathering in her eyes as Remus spoke, this past year of awkward silences when they were left alone and his coldness when they did talk suddenly making more sense than it had since the wedge between them was stuck.
He was terrified.
Before Y/N could tearfully and firmly remind him that he was most definitely not a monster, Remus had pulled her to his chest and was holding her there tightly as he spoke directly next to her ear.
“You are everything that I could never deserve, but I could never look you in the eye again if I let you go. I don’t deserve you and I could never offer you anything, but every time I try to force those to be my reasons to let you go, I find more and more reasons to hold you close to me and never, ever let go.”
Remus took a deep, shuddering breath. The sweet, overwhelmingly calming scent of Y/N enveloped him and gave him the courage to continue.
“Your smile, your eyes, the way you stick your tongue out when you concentrate and the way you never let me forget that I’m not alone. You found out what I am and you’ve never judged me or even pitied me. I am absolutely terrified and disgusted with myself, but I love you. And I’m so sorry that I’ve been avoiding you, and in the morning, when I’m moping about because of this, you can feel free to smack me. Or kiss me. Preferably the latter.”
Y/N laughed tearfully into Remus’ chest, pulling away from him slightly. She took his face in both of her hands, smiling through the tears that ran down her cheeks.
“I-I love you too, you idiot. You’re not a monster, and you deserve more than this world could ever offer you. You’re such a dolt, you know that? Letting this go on for a whole bloody year.”
Remus reached up without a thought and wiped her tears away as she spoke, his heart soaring.
He cleared his throat, his eyes burning with tears. “Anyways, that’s what I wanted to say. And I can guarantee that I’ll remember this tomorrow. And I won’t be too pleased with myself. So please, smack some sense into me, for the love of Merlin’s ballsack.”
Y/N nodded, her thumb rubbing circles over Remus’ cheekbone, the scar across it causing the skin beneath the pad of her finger to be rough.
“I will. You can bet your drunk arse that I will smack you so hard that you’ll see Circe herself if you try to run from this.”
Remus nodded, his eyes beginning to droop as he tried to stand.
“Good. That’s good. Now, love, would you mind helping me to my dorm? I might fall down the stairs…”
Y/N laughed, wiping her eyes. “Of course, Rem. C'mon.”
Although Remus had a solid foot on her short stature, Y/N wrapped her arm around his waist and let him hunch over her stout form.
They slowly but surely made it to his dorm, after the stairs of the girls’ dorm turned into a slide when they stepped onto them. James’ charm had worn off and scared them both half to death, Remus’ rather feminine shriek echoing in the empty common room.
The other boys were in various states of dress, passed out in awkward angles across their beds. Sirius in particular was hanging half off his bed, a half-full bottle of Ogden’s still in his hand.
Y/N laughed softly as she looked around the dorm, Remus falling into his bed as soon as it was in his sights. Y/N helped him into his pyjamas and kissed his forehead, turning to leave although she knew she wouldn’t find sleep again.
Before she could get too far from his bed, Remus grabbed Y/N’s hand and gently pulled her back. He brought her open hand to his lips, kissing the palm of her hand tenderly.
“I meant every word, Y/N. I may be completely pissed, but those words have been floating in my head since first term of our fourth year. I love you.”
Y/N smiled, trying not to cry again. “I know. I’ll see you in the morning, I’ll be here with a sober-up potion and we’ll head down to breakfast. I won’t even give you the chance to avoid me, you arse.”
Y/N rejoiced in the sound of Remus’ raspy laugh as she turned and walked toward the door, turning just before she left. “And, I love you too. Remember that tomorrow, if not anything else. Goodnight, Remus.”