Sirius Black had always traveled to King’s Cross with incredible joy in his heart knowing that he wouldn’t have to return to Grimmauld Place, 12 for several months and that he wouldn’t see his family for a very long time. This was the first time Sirius had trouble getting out of his bed on 1st of September. He didn’t know how to explain it but it felt like a hippogriff was sitting on his chest making it hard to breathe.
“Padfoot,” sighed James. “If you make me miss the train, I will steal all of Remus’ chocolate and blame it on you and he will believe me.”
“Idunwanowunintmmawf,” said Sirius into his pillow.
“I’m sorry, what?”
“I don’t want to run into my mother,” he replied sitting up realising he didn’t have the strength to deal with James Potter at the moment.
“We will move quickly and we won’t see even a string of her hair,” smiled James. “That’s a promise, Pads.”
“But she will see us Prongs,” mumbled Sirius looking like a lost puppy. “That bitch has her ways, she always finds me and Regulus in the crowd.”
“Don’t be fucking ridiculous and get out of the bed” ordered James in return as he attempted carrying his trunk down the stairs for a second. “MUUUUUM can I locomotor my trunk dooooownn?”
“NO,” said Euphemia sternly from downstairs. “You’ll carry it down James and so will Sirius.”
“James, dear, you are sixteen years old,” explained his mum like she was talking to a small child to make sure he doesn’t set the house on fire. “Stop acting like you are four or that girl you like so much won’t even look your way let alone like you. Independent women like grown men, not needy children.”
Euphemia Potter had a way with her son, she knew where all of his buttons were and how to push them just right because James Potter and his trunk were downstairs the Muggle way in a minute after the pep talk she had given.
The breakfast was calmer than usual with Fleamont being at work and Sirius acting like he is half dead. When they were completely ready to floo themselves to the train station, Euphemia put her hand softly on Sirius’ shoulder, a kind of touch he wasn’t still used to after almost two months.
“Sirius,” began Euphemia. “What’s wrong? You know you can talk to me.”
“I just really don’t want to run into my mother,” confessed Sirius. “I’m scared of what she might do to you.”
James shook his head in disbelief, he found it hard to understand the irrational fear Sirius had. He knew Walburga was one disturbed woman but he also knew his mother shouldn’t be underestimated.
“Walburga should be scared of running into me,” said Euphemia half jokingly but James knew what would happen if they were to run into that woman. “I can handle him dear.”
Sirius nodded as convincingly as he could before he grabbed floo powder from the porcelain bowl standing next to the marble fireplace.
“King’s Cross,” he said clearly and he was gone with the green flames in seconds.
It didn’t take long for James and his mum to come with the flames. They hurried towards the Platform 9 ¾ with their trolleys and James ran face first into the wall just to disappear into thin air and then Euphemia and Sirius ran to the other side of the wall as well.
Hogwarts Express was standing with all it’s crimson glory waiting for the students to get in to take them to Hogwarts. The three of them walked hastily to where the Marauders’ compartment was. They stood in front of the door to say their goodbyes.
“Be good,” said Euphemia. “I don’t want any letters from Minerva this year James.”
“Mum, you know I can’t promise anything.”
“Where did I go wrong while raising you?” she asked curiously. “Don’t answer that.”
“Sirius, write to me whenever you feel like it,” she reminded. “I’ll be expecting you home for Christmas, alright?”
“Yes, mum,” said Sirius and choked on his words almost instantly as a warm smile formed on Euphemia’s lips and James’ eyes lit up like they were fairy lights.
“Tsk tsk, Sirius,” came Walburga’s cold voice behind them. “We shouldn’t call blood traitors who didn’t give birth to us ‘mum’.”
It seemed like Sirius had shrunk in size as Euphemia stepped in front of him protectively.
“Tsk tsk Walburga,” she repeated. “We shouldn’t eavesdrop on conversations that aren’t ours and give opinions that no one asked for. He can call me ‘mum’ whenever he wants to, seeing that his actual mother is not available at the moment.”
Walburga made an attempt to grab Sirius by the wrist but Euphemia was agile for her age and she was holding onto Sirius’ wrist like he would die if she let go.
“You won’t touch my son and I’m not talking about James.”
“I suggest you stay out of this Euphemia, this is none of your business.”
“Oh, you made it my business when this boy showed up in my living room, barely breathing,” shot back Euphemia with all the rage that had been building up in her. Sirius was hiding behind her, careful not to catch Walburga’s piercing eyes.
“You are exaggerating,” she replied. “Nothing wrong with a little tough love.”
“I know an Unforgivable Curse when I see one Walburga,” she hissed just loud enough for people around them to hear, Walburga was turning purple with anger. “If I could, I would take Regulus from you, too, before he ends up dead from your tough love.”
“How dare you speak to me like that?”
“The same way you dare torture your children Walburga,” she said without blinking. “Now let go of my wrist and stay away from my sons.”
Sirius was trembling behind Euphemia who was standing like she was the queen of the universe, she didn’t move until Walburga Black turned around and left.
“I told you I could handle her,” she said with a reassuring smile and caressed Sirius’ cheek softly. Sirius noticed the marks on Euphemia’s wrist then, burn marks like the long boney fingers of his mother. “As long as you got me, she can never come close to you and know that there’s nothing wrong with you calling me mum. Anyone would be proud to have you as a son and I am, too.”
“I- I can heal that if y-you want m-mum,” said Sirius, his voice shaking with the weight he was feeling on his shoulders. “I’ve- I’ve gotten pretty g-good with h-healing charms.”
“No Sirius, I can fix it. You forget you are not allowed to practice magic outside of Hogwarts,” she reminded and laughed a little. “It’s funny that a woman of her age is unable to control her magic like a toddler.”
Sirius’ eyes were still fixed on Euphemia’s thin wrist, his eyes filling up with the anger and sadness he was feeling. He lifted his eyes just a little to give a guilty look to James and saw his best friend smiling warmly down at him, he didn’t hide his pity but he didn’t have to. James always found it rather unlucky that Sirius ended up in such a messy family and never lied about how he felt about that situation, his pity was because he cared.
“Mum’s a big girl mate,” he said like he knew Sirius was about to spiral down and he needed someone to say something, anything. “She can take care of herself.”
“He is right, love,” nodded Euphemia. “Now, off you go, we don’t want you to miss the train because of something as unimportant and miserable as Walburga.”
“Just call her a bitch, mum.”
“James Fleamont Potter,” began Euphemia as she jokingly flicked her son’s arm. “You kiss me with that mouth and you will stop saying that word, even though some people deserve it, or so help me Merlin I’ll ground you until the end of time.”
“Okay, okay,” surrendered James. “I’ll just call her a goblin.”
“That’s my boy,” she replied and the spark came back to Sirius’ grey eyes. Euphemia hugged both of them and gave them loud kisses before she pushed them towards the train. “Don’t forget to write to me when you get there.”
“Sure, mum,” said Sirius with a grin before he was dragged away by an over eager James.
[Burr and Hamilton are staring each other down.] Hamilton: … Do you remember that night? When Eliza told everyone she was pregnant? Burr: … And we all threw her a baby shower. Lafayette got drunk and sang songs in French to Eliza’s belly. Hamilton: That was a good memory. Burr: From another lifetime. Hamilton: I miss the people we were then. Burr: Me too. [They open fire on each other.]
Cas is twenty-six and has never been kissed. It’s never been a problem, but now his advisor is saying that his dissertation, a romance novel, is lacking a personal touch and won’t be liked by the board. With one day until it is due Cas is at wits end, but maybe his roommate, Dean, can give him a few pointers. 2.9k [AO3 Link]
“You love me?” Jo asked with wide, open eyes.
Anna nodded back timidly and tried to walk away, but Jo caught her arm before she could make her escape.
“How long? How long, Anna?” she demanded. “How long have you loved me?”
Anna may have been an angel, bright and powerful and able to smite Jo in an instant, but in that moment, the angel looked completely and utterly human. Her eyes were downcast and her lip was perched between her teeth. She looked terrified, which was beyond Jo. How could an angel of the Lord be terrified of a simple human like her?
“Ever since I pulled you from Hell,” she whispered. “When I touched your soul, it was the purest thing I’ve ever felt in my life. From that first caress of your being, I knew that I’d Fall for you, Jo. I just knew.”
“Anna…” Jo trailed off, because what the hell. How could an angel love her, a hunter? It didn’t make any sense, because angels hated hunters. The only reason Jo was topside was because she was a pawn in their games, and even though she thought Anna wasn’t like the others, she still had doubts at times. She thought that Anna was just putting up with her, that Jo’s love for the angel was unrequited.
“I should go,” Anna said as she turned on her heel. Her large, obsidian wings flew out, ready for flight.
Jo felt herself panic as Anna crouched down. She couldn’t let her angel leave, not after a confession like that one.
“No you don’t,” Jo said, reaching forward and turning Anna around. With a fire within her, Jo leaned in and
“Their lips…no. They touch one another with their mouths…no. They…uh…mack on one another for a long time…the end.” Cas pushed his laptop away and ran fingers through his hair, groaning. “This is impossible,” he muttered to himself, and brought his elbows up onto the table.
He’d rewritten the ending scene with Anna and Jo’s kiss a thousand times, but it never worked out. Professor Mills cited a lack of personal touch, and told him to base the kiss on his own experiences. “Add a little raunchiness, will ya?” she said to him with an upturned grin. He nodded and laughed along at the time, but now he was truly panicking. He was never going to finish his dissertation before tomorrow’s board presentation, and it would all be because he’s the only twenty-six year old on the planet who has never been kissed.
It wasn’t like he hadn’t tried before. Back in college, Cas was almost kissed a few times, the closest being when he was playing a drunken game of spin the bottle with his floormates. It landed on a girl named Meg, a feisty business major who was known for her escapades in the bedroom, but when she leaned in and tried to kiss him, he couldn’t do it. When Cas imagined his first kiss, it always was with someone he really cared about, not some girl from Edlund Hall that he barely knew.
“Yeah, wait until you find the perfect person to kiss. That’ll do you a lot of good,” Cas angrily muttered to himself as he pulled his computer back towards him. The cursor blinked back at him mockingly, and Cas carefully began typing.
“With a fire within her, Jo leaned in and grabbed Anna’s face-”
“No, no, no!” Cas cried out as he pounded on the keys. Even if he had no experience, why couldn’t he write this damn scene? Kissing was not rocket science, and he’s read enough romance novels in his life. Why can’t he just write a few lines and get it over with?
He cringed when Dean’s voice hit his ears. The last thing he needed was his roommate seeing him all up in arms over this, especially since he was the one Cas had been trying to get the courage to kiss for years now. He quickly thought that if he wasn’t such a coward, then maybe he’d be able to not fail out of his dissertation.
“In my bedroom!” Cas called out, and began fruitlessly typing nonsense as Dean’s footsteps ricocheted off the hardwood floors, stopping when he reached Cas’s door.
“You okay?” Dean asked, and Cas turned around to see his friend leaning against the doorframe, lips turned up into a smirk as he toed the ground with his boot.
Perhaps it’s heightened by Cas’s troubles, but Dean looked even more handsome than usual. His jeans were rolled up at the bottom, revealing his ankles, and his white t-shirt was dirtied from his work shift at the garage. Combined with his playful gaze and his hands in his pockets, Cas felt himself blanching.
“Earth to Cas? You there, buddy?” Dean said as nodded in his direction.
Cas blinked owlishly a few times before going back to his laptop. “Yes, I’m sorry. I’m just trying to finish my dissertation.”
Dean walked over to his computer and peered over Cas’s shoulder. He could feel Dean’s breath on his neck, and it took everything in him to not turn his head and close the distance between them. It would be the perfect moment to get experience-
“Wow, this sucks,” Dean snorted, and alas, the moment was broken.
Cas glared up at Dean and pushed away from his desk. “You think it’s crappy? I’m presenting this to the board tomorrow,” Cas reminded him with emphasis. “And you decide to tell me now that it’s crappy?”
Dean held up his hands and backed away into the bed. He plopped down and replied, “Crappy isn’t the right word. It’s just…lacking. Jo grabbed Anna’s face and kissed her until they broke apart tells me nothing,” he said, quoting the last thing Cas wrote down. “I want to read about what the kiss felt like for Jo, you know?”
Cas took a deep breath and took a seat next to Dean. He folded his hands in his lap and glanced out the window, then asked the question that had been on his mind all day. “What does it feel like to be kissed, Dean?”
I’ve been doodling a lot of my @spicerpuffs fanchild, but I haven’t actually had the time to sit down and do anything good with her until now. I wanted to draw her in the reaper high uniform, and the costume she uses when she does hero stuff (she takes after her mom). I also drew a younger version of her first learning about her superpowers. Also I don’t think I mentioned her name in the first drawing I did of her? It’s Bianca.
I mentioned my guinea pig Cappy a minute ago, I finally found some pictures of her! This was from when I was in 7th grade, I think she was a couple years old in this picture and she lived all the way through my junior year of high school, so she lived to be about 7 or 8! She was already big here, and she grew more in the couple years after this picture was taken, so she was pretty huge by guinea pig standards ^^;
The pink thing is a leash we had for her when we took her outside just to keep track of her, idk why we bothered though bc she never went far lol
(Disregard 7th Grade Me, I’m gonna roast myself in the tags)
That’s the one thought that keeps running through Natasha’s
mind as she and a certain Captain America rush frantically though the snow.
Though, the word “rush” implies that the two were actually able to maneuver through
the knee deep slush with little difficulty. While Steve moved more or less
unimpeded, Natasha’s smaller stature had her struggling. Perfect.
It was just the piss-poor ending Natasha needed for a
mission she hadn’t even wanted to go on.
Fury had been in Natasha’s apartment (or at least the place
she had officially put in the SHIELD database, which was more of a storage
space than an actual residence of living), waiting as eerily as he did. Natasha
regarded him as professionally as usual, though her shoulders weren’t quite as
rigid as they could’ve been.
“What do you need?” Natasha asked, knowing better than to
assume Fury had been there to visit her. The older man smiled.
“Nice to see you, too, Romanoff.” Natasha didn’t say
anything, only leaned against the nearest wall with her arms crossed over her
shoulders. “Right. You never were good at small talk.” Not unless it was to get
her from point A to point B. “I’ve got a tip on the Winter Soldier,” Fury said,
holding out a manila folder as he approached her, “in Greenland.” Natasha blinked.
“You know where Bucky is?”
“I said I had a tip. You know as well as I do how those can
go.” She did. Natasha’s eyes scanned the documents Fury provided. Narrowed.
“Shouldn’t you be giving this to Rogers?” The name sounded a
little weird on her tongue. She’d gotten a little used to calling him ‘Steve’,
used to him calling her ‘Nat’. And then the hellicarrier fell into the Potomac
and Natasha went underground and Ultron tried dropping a city out of the sky. And,
um, Bruce. Rogers and Romanoff returned.
“I did, earlier today.” No. No. Natasha looked at Fury, knowing she looked like an incensed
teenager but not entirely caring.