i was rooting for her as a kid

anonymous asked:

Can you finish your thoughts on Shaw/Root/TM from the tags on that gifset? Please???? :)

y’all should know better than to encourage me to ramble about things. i have zero concept of being brief or concise. so here you go.

This is an expansion of some meta i wrote in some tags about Root’s character development as pertaining to her relationship with the Machine and Shaw. So I don’t have to repeat it every other sentence, a lot of this is headcanon…as in my opinions…you’re completely allowed to disagree and have your own headcanon, that’s the beauty of fandom:


As a kid, Root was already a smug little computer whiz before Hanna got killed, if not already a hacker than definitely heading down that path. Root’s always been arrogant and I imagine she thought she was too good for the horrible little town she was stuck in. On top of that there was whatever situation was going on with her mother…that’s open to interpretation of course, but it was said that she hung out in the library to avoid going home. Hanna and computers were the best things Root had going on in her life. Computers are easier to understand and deal with than humans and let her enact a measure of control over something in a world where she felt trapped and not in control. Especially after Hanna died.

I think root already liked bending and breaking the rules, feeling superior to people who didn’t, but when all the rules of the ‘civilized’ world failed her the night Hanna was taken she realized that rules only applied to you if you let them. Rules weren’t real. They were part of humans’ bad code and a thing to be exploited. Computers, of course, do have rules and logic that they can’t disobey. If a computer isn’t doing what it’s supposed to do than somewhere along the line a human messed up…either wrote bad code or made bad hardware, etc. The universe and humans and emotions are a giant chaotic mess without rhyme or reason, but computers are perfect, logical.

The thing about Root though is she very much is human and has so many of the traits she sees as flaws…I think that’s part of the reason for her wildly shifting self value. She has an enormous emotional capacity that she’s struggled to keep in check and funneled only into anger for most of her life, so when her emotions do come out it’s like opening a floodgate. But before the Machine and Shaw she compartmentalizes all of that, locks it away, doesn’t allow herself to feel anything she considers weak. She cared about Hanna and then she lost her and that hurt horribly. Therefore, in Root logic, if she doesn’t care about people she can’t get hurt. One of the reasons her emotions and mannerisms often come off as over the top and child-like is because she never allowed herself to learn to regulate them.

Then the Machine enters the picture. One of the many things Root’s been locking away is loneliness. I think from later seasons it’s fairly apparent that she’s a deeply lonely person even if she spent most of her life writing that off as a weakness. But if humans are bad code and weak than she can never really allow herself to care about them or let them in. But the Machine isn’t human. She sees the Machine not only as an inherently more worthy form of life, but as someone she can finally allow herself to care for.

Root’s face lights up whenever the Machine talks to her and that’s definitely partly her deification of her, but it’s also because she loves her, as a god and the friend she always wanted. When she doesn’t find TM at the end of God Mode it completely breaks her and she shuts down and goes away inside her head because she’s lost something again and it hurts horribly and she doesn’t know how to deal with that. And when the Machine chooses to talk to her it’s everything she’d always hoped for.

But the Machine isn’t exactly what she’d imagined. TM won’t let her kill and sets her up to help save humanity. Root starts out being somewhat amused but indulgent of the no kill rule (’even this guy?’), and probably doesn’t mind the saving humanity bit since she sees it as the Machine helping to make humanity better and also gives her a feeling of importance…because TM values her enough to ask her to do this.

Around this time, Shaw becomes another factor in Root’s life. I don’t see Root as having had any real meaningful relationships in her life, and I don’t think she immediately falls head over heels for Shaw…instant chemistry, yes..instant love, no. I do think TM sees potential there though either before or during Mors Praematura. At that point Root cares about what the Machine thinks/wants and won’t kill people because she cares about TM’s wishes, but she still doesn’t care about people. Perhaps TM saw Shaw as a person Root could care about. Also, even though this is a meta post about Root I’d like to say that TM probably also thought Root would be good for Shaw…it was never just about one or the other of them; it was always about both of them together.

Fast forward to Aletheia. Shaw goes back to look for Root. I’ve probably mentioned this in a ton of other posts but I strongly believe that was the first time someone had done something like that for her (the end of mors praematura doesn’t exactly count). It was an indication that a human cared for her and for once she doesn’t see that as a negative or a thing to be exploited.

That brings us to the episode I wrote the original meta tags about…Root Path. The whole episode is TM smacking her in the head to try and explain that her actions have cascading consequences and end up hurting multiple people. This isn’t something Root has generally thought about or given a shit about before, but TM is telling her and she loves TM and doesn’t want to disappoint her. Her whole ‘how badly did you have to break it’ speech is about her not understanding how a being that was supposed to be above human weaknesses is telling her that humans are important. And while TM can drill this into her head over and over it doesn’t click until she realizes she’s fallen for Shaw. I think that the end of root path is when she starts accepting that.

Root needed both of TM and Shaw to get where she ended up. I don’t think she ever genuinely likes people, and she continues to treat most people in a condescending fashion, but she can’t make the sweeping generalization that humans == bad code now because Shaw isn’t bad code so that statement is no longer always true. And that opens up a lot of possibilities. TM got Root to a point where she could admit to care for another human and Shaw was the human she could care for and who cared for her. All three of them are very much tied up on each other’s character arcs which is one of the reasons I thought it was such a shame we never got to see Shaw and TM interact over the course of the story.

One last comment…I’ve seen discussions of whether Shaw or TM is more important to Root and I personally don’t find this a useful question to ask. Both of them are so damn integral to her life that she’s devastated at the idea of losing either. They are both immeasurably important to her and being forced to put a value on one over the other would be deeply upsetting for her and ultimately pointless. It is possible to have more than one thing that you care for without it lessening the importance of either.

Hope that was what you were after, anon!

Welp. We went to see Wonder Woman. I cried during the sad parts and some of the other parts. They were the same kind of tears I had on and off through Ghostbusters. Movies with strong women who are fully realized people who are allowed to be sexual but are not sexualized and can also kick ass just make me cry randomly. Though TBH I also cry in LotR when anyone picks up their sword and runs into battle screaming the name of their home. I didn’t even realize how ravenous I was for a female version of that.

Black Girl, NYC

Greetings people. I identify as a Black female who was born and raised in NYC. I am slowly progressing through my study of education and history in college. Other then that, I spend (probably) an unhealthy amount of time reading and writing sci fi and fantasy. But by high school, I got sick and tired of the same story featuring blonds and brunettes saving the day with their straight, lean male heroes so I turned to my librarian seeking something new. She pointed to Octavia Butler and the rest was history. I’ve been seeking diversity in media ever since.

Family life and Culture

I grew as the middle child of six siblings with my single mother and grandparents. Yes, my working-class household fits the stereotype. We even have an absent father *sighs* But, hey shit happens. And with the biological father turns out not to be the best father figure, shit had to go right out the door. Yup. But make no mistake that this is a norm. Most households on my block do have both parents involved in their children’s lives. Our circumstances called for us to have one. That’s all.

The house was full, loud and rambunctious. We made up a good portion of the children on the block (unsurprising) and basically ran it. There’s a whole novel that could be fleshed out of my childhood if I wanted to. Our neighborhood is very tight knit. Next door neighbors were treated like Aunts and Uncles. When summer came around, we were sometimes divided into groups as the parents who were off from work overlooked us while braiding our heads. Blackouts became an all night bbq and sleepover on each other’s porches. Crooklyn by Spike Lee was a good representation of what it was like in fact. Somewhat. Minus the brownstones, plus a couple more fights (lol).

My grandma was a nurse who’s pretty big on us knowing our family history. She made sure to talk a lot about our Gullah Geechee roots. We also had some Dominican culture influence since her closest friend and our Madrina was, well, Dominican. But she is fairly strict on gender norms and how my sisters and I should act especially with brothers. She antagonized me the most growing up because I continued to ignore this. We don’t get along but i can’t say i don’t get why she’s the way she is. She has a pretty dark past. My mother, a latchkey kid of the finest stock, is more laid back and gives all of us free range to make our own mistakes. Most times. Other times, she’d rather lecture us. Depends on our crime.

I don’t know what my grandpa used to do. He retired waaaaay before my grandmother. I also don’t know much about his culture. He’s 1st gen Jamaican who fully assimilated into American culture. Well, beside his food choices. Now, he gambles and goes to church. When I was younger, he used to teach us how to gamble too. And how to cheat and not get caught. We got a lot of free fast food while he taught us. He has gotten more frugal the older he got. And more isolated.

Dating and Relationships.

I don’t date. I have no interest. Well, no, that’s not exactly true. I’ve considered it but I rather have not seek out anything outside of platonic right now. I have a tight knit circle of friends and several other groups of friends I associate with depending on the activity. I’m realizing it seems like I’m using the term “friends” loosely but I swear I’m not. I’m a virgin and I feel nothing about being one until someone goes “*gasp* You’re a virgin really?” and then I end up on high defense saying “So?” Believe or not, that messed with me a lot.

My love life and lack of interest in having one has always been a struggle. In middle school, the group of friends I hung with were becoming more infatuated with love and sex. Yes, middle school, fifth through eighth grade, ages nine to thirteen. But, when they would talked about who’s hot or not, they would look at me funny when I didn’t join in the discussion. Instead of explaining myself, I simply copied other’s reactions and gushed along with them. This instinct followed me through High school til stopped out of annoyance. I became a listener and adviser in their relationships because I really do love stories in many shapes and forms. And I would never turn down hearing a story.

Language

My primary language is English and AAVE. I’ve been living in a neighborhood filled with Blacks and Latinx. Most of my friends are Black and Lantinx. I didn’t meet a white person my age until college. Okay that’s a partial lie. I’ve been in a summer camp that was made up of predominantly white children. But as the only black kid in my age range, I was sorta uncomfortable. I never made lasting friends there. After High School, I spent a year abroad in Tena, Ecuador where I learned Spanish and Kichwa. I still suck at both languages.

Clothing

Lots of my clothes when I was younger were borrowed or hand-me-downs. Half of them still are. It’s like thrift shopping without the hiked prices thanks to its popularity by rich white people (Thanks rich white people!) All my siblings’ taste varies. In my case, I’m fond of combining loose and tight clothing (tight jeans and a loose sweater/ baggy jeans and a tight top). No makeup. Silver accessories.

I used to have a short bob cut permed. I hated it. But I rather a perm then getting my hair straightened with a hot comb because the back of my neck and big ears would always get burned. It wasn’t until I made a friend with a natural afro that I realized my natural hair was even an option.

Academics

Lol I was a nerd with bad grades.

Religion

My family practices Santeria, which has historical roots in both Catholicism and Yoruba thanks to slavery (Yay slavery!). However, because the religion is not fully accepted or well-known, I tend to say I’m simply Catholic if asked. Apparently, a Black Catholic is hard to believe. It is assumed all Black folks are Baptists or some branch of Christianity. I have no idea where that stereotype came from. But I can give some guess. (*cough cough* Tyler Perry….).  

As I stated before, I love scifi and fantasy. I especially love urban fantasy involving witches. I blame this love on Practical Magic and Eve’s Bayou, my childhood faves. It’s because of this love that I wish to see more stories with witches of color. And no, I don’t mean that one evil/mysterious southern/Caribbean Voodoo/Hoodoo witch hollywood loves to portray so much. That always plays into the “Black is evil” trope. Give me some damn variety!

I would squeal so hard if the mythology involved in a story isn’t even Eurocentric. I’m not joking. This is serious. When my religion was simply hinted at in the Raven Boys series (It was also a great way of making even more obvious that the character was definitely not white.) and Kenya Wright’s Habitat series, I squealed. All the authors did was write the names of some of the Orishas and I couldn’t help but put my phone down for a moment and inwardly scream with glee. That being said, if a writer does decide to use afrocentric or any religion involving “witchcraft” as a basis, I would personally ask that they make sure is is not a closed religion.

Santeria is, in fact, a closed religion. And while I don’t mind mentions of it in fantasy and even a main character stating they practice it, do not go any further than that. Don’t even research the practices within the religion other than what is public knowledge (And if you don’t have any public knowledge, just ask) Respect that there’s a limit. Anything further spelunking  is consider rude, disgusting, disrespectful and dangerous. There’s things that I don’t even know because I haven’t been properly initiated. And the internet has a lot of these practices exposed when it shouldn’t be so please don’t look into it. Please.

Food

Most of the cooking in the house has been done by my grandmother. Because of her various relationships, our food has always been a mixture of Black American, Gullah, Lantinx and Caribbean influences. It is so good. So, so good!

The only thing I don’t eat of hers is her seafood gumbo because I don’t like shellfish. One of my sisters said I should have my “black card” taken for my distaste. I said she could take it if she can name more black movies than me. She still can’t take it. My other sister wishes we could switch places because she loves crab but is allergic. The crazy girl actually sends her husband to buy some benadryl so she can eat some if we ever have some on the table. Smh. Siblings.  

Holidays

My family on both sides are quite fond of reunions. On my grandpa’s side, the family uses Fourth of July and Christmas to get together. On my grandma’s side, they tend to host annual summer reunion and send out RSVP invitations complete with schedules of the whole two to three day event. I didn’t mention this under my family life, but both sides of my family are boujee to different degrees. Lots of black sorors and frats members on both sides. I can’t believe that slipped my mind typing.

I’m a little iffy with Christmas. It’s more of a holiday for the older generation and our niece and nephews. The younger generation, however, don’t particularly care for the holiday. For some of us, it’s because it’s not really Jesus’s Birthday and Santa was whitewashed. For others, it’s because we don’t care to feed into the corporate holiday. For most of us, it’s a combination of the two. But we do love getting together when we can. My older sister and I have conspired to celebrate kwanzaa instead for the past two years. So far, it hasn’t grasped the interest of anyone else in the family.

Struggles

  • Being nerds from a young age, my siblings and I have been called “Oreos” or“Not really black” by kids in school on more than one occasion. We shut them down by fighting. Probably not the best strategy but it was best one I could think of in middle school and below. Made it easier to go back to reading my manga.

  • I got compared to my sisters a lot. It was the absolutely most annoying thing ever. And a major source of my insecurities growing older.

  • Need I address colorism? My highschool was filled with it. #TeamLight v #TeamDark. I was on neither team, because in the region I live, skin color was a pretty long spectrum. I fell in the between. Who came up with this?

  • I’ll admit it. I hate my own tears. They make me feel weak. Which isn’t true…I know. But, it is a mentality I always had. I have depression and PTSD. This isn’t really a secret. I tell people if I’m asked. But have you ever had someone look at you and say, “Really? You don’t seem like the type.” ……

  • I am a black female. I’ve been labelled “Strong” and “Independent” the older I got. By my mother. By my siblings. By my peers. And I get those labels. Even from friends. I loved those labels. I call myself by those labels. I mean, who doesn’t want to be seen as strong and independent? Those are positive affirmations, right? I think they would be. If that wasn’t all the positive labels we could get. Somehow, society has decided we are beings that are incapable of being multifaceted. I was indirectly taught to hate my own tears because black girls don’t cry. You can’t cry and be strong. What a terrible mantra fed to black girl at a young age. So, instead you tell everyone “It’s fine.”

I told my therapist it was fine. Until she told me straight up it was not fine. And it was okay to cry. I don’t like to cry. But I still (involuntarily) did it.

Things I’d like to see less of/Things I’d like to see more of:

  • I’m sick and tired of seeing black and latinx folks being portrayed as only fantasy gangs members. We are not only gang members. That’s a terrible popular myth the media put out there and I hate it even more so when it’s portrayed in SFF genre..

  • I’m tired of having one black person in a novel being described as having skin the color of “midnight.” And he’s (it’s always a he) not even that important to the story

  • I hate how every time someone decides to add a person of color, they have to be ambiguous brown. I’m not saying ambiguously brown don’t exist and don’t need representation but is it really that had for a dark brown skin person to play a major role in a story that’s not about slavery? Speaking of which….

  • Why we always gotta be slaves? Or better yet….

  • Why don’t we exist at all in High fantasy stories? Urban fantasy? Brooklyn wasn’t always the gentrified white town it is now. Still isn’t. How are you erasing people of color from NYC??? We make up way too much of the population to be completely erased

  • Stop racial coding other creatures to surround your white human characters. Especially as the bad guys. That’s just shitty writing. Step up your game!

  • I love Black love

  • I love Gay love. I wish more would follow moonlight’s example and show poc are gay too and gay doesn’t always equal to stereotypical femininity.

  • I love interracial love HOWEVER, can we pair people of color with other people of color as well? I’m starting to hate seeing it always a white person paired with a Poc. Variety damnit!

  • Friendships between boys and girls that don’t transform into love.

  • Friendships between girls that didn’t start out as a rivalry.

  • Different body types besides the skinny and tall. Make a main character that’s fat for once. It’s not a problem.

  • Magical characters of color that aren’t “Noble Savages” or “Wise Monks” that used their magic for personal gain for once instead of waiting for the white hero to come.

  • Nerdy black characters who aren’t 100% competent and cries. One that isn’t in a five token band that always gonna be compare to the white main character. Make the nerd the main character!

That’s all I can think of at the top of my head. But my list really does go on. 

Read more POC Profiles here or submit your own.

I had the honor and horror of explaining/proving today to my local comic book store owner, who is a born-and-raised Jewish dude, that the Black Widow is Jewish. I ended up making a drive home and grabbing my copy of the 83-87 run of her origin story and then going back in person to prove the point today (a week after the original argument)/sit there and watch him repeat, dumbfounded, again and again, “I thought she was Russian Orthodox or something.”

So then I had to explain that Marvel eventually retconned her into having had the Red Room rip out all her memories of life before her parents’ death and thus left her unaware of her heritage. He had a copy of the new version of her origin story. We went over it together in-store, curious, and left mutually disappointed. There’s not one hint of her original origin left other than her very Jewish patronymic still remaining part of her name.

As a Russian-descended person I find that kind of a fitting metaphor for how the Russian government has treated Russian Jews - Natasha can succeed, can be the best in her field, can be beautiful and praised for her moral fortitude, but only if she has all Jewishness forcibly removed from her. It’s sort of befitting the era in which her character would have grown up, especially if Marvel pushes forward with the idea they’ve hinted at that the Red Room’s treatments have stalled her aging and she might be nearly as old as Steve and Bucky.

Out of universe, though, please never forget that Marvel took out all the women from the Avengers except one for their cinematic adaptation initially, and the one they left, they made either atheist or secular enough to casually refer to Loki and Thor as gods. They had a chance to put the first Jewish superhero to the big screen and didn’t even consider it for a second.

Then they made the Scarlet Witch not only not Jewish but Christian in the sequel. Just to twist the knife a little deeper, they made her non-Rromani and went with a fake nationality to top it all off.

And thus I stood before a man whose job was (in part) to live and breathe Marvel and he had no idea Natasha Romanov was Jewish. This new and improved origin story that has no trace of her Jewish roots (in freaking Novosibirsk where there’s a large Jewish quarter of the city, are you kidding me with this Marvel) comes during the same year Marvel published a storyline headed by writer Nick Spencer where Captain America was a Nazi/HYDRA agent all along, a storyline that only got canceled because the fan protests and outcry was so great that between the petitions, boycotts and actual Marvel actors like Clark Gregg (who is Jewish and who Nick Spencer sent the issue personally) publicly stating disgust with it that Marvel realized they weren’t going to be able to sell overt antisemitism. Covert antisemitism, though, we’re still buying - the Iron Man anti-villain/anti-heroine The Mad Thinker/Rhona Clytemnestra Cohen had her surname changed to have always been Burchill and her backstory retconned into her family being the victims of ‘a criminal car bombing’. Not ‘an antisemitic car bombing motivated by the fact my mother was a brilliant Jewish scientist whose coworkers had it out for her’. Just ‘a criminal car bombing’. I have seen all of three people complain about that even though it takes her motivations as a Jewish woman who hates that superheroes don’t save or stand for people like her and turns her into another generic supervillain.

I see what you’re doing, Marvel. There’s a reason I go out of my way to buy my comics from a place that will let me leaf through comics before purchasing them. If you want to keep going down this path, please just be aware that one day, kids will be shown that Captain America panel of him saying ‘Hail HYDRA’ in history class as they learn about the 2016 antisemitic upswing. You are made of the same stuff videos labeled ‘crazy propaganda cartoons’ on YouTube are.

(And yes I know one person’s rants are another person’s no big deal but I am not merely out of fucks to give, I am deeply, deeply in the red right now.)

nicky forces neil to get a new phone and eventually neil makes an instagram and as he starts getting more followers he gets more comfortable with having social media and does 60 second Q&A’s with the team at the fans request

  • the first one he does is with kevin because of popular demand
  • neil does it on the court after night practice with kevin and he reads a few questions that exy fans have commented on his previous posts
  • ‘kevin, what are you a queen of besides exy? no I’ll answer this, the answer is nothing, kevin sucks”
  • “fuck off neil” kevin gets serious and the rest of the video is kevin extensively and aggressively talking about exy until the timer cuts off
  • he does dan next and it’s the cutest 60 second video out there okay dan is sitting next to matt on the couch while neil is filming
  • he asks her how it feels to be “the best female exy captain in the NCAA” dan gets the biggest smile on her face and scrunches up her nose before she answers
  • ‘oh that’s sweet, who wants to know? I like this person. It feels great! but it’s stressful at times, there is a lot of sexism in the world but I usually ignore it in favor of focusing on how lucky I am to have such a great team.”
  • matt’s looking at her while she’s talking and u can literally see the love and admiration in his eyes, fans are crying in the comments about how cute they are, so am I
  • when he does renee, most of the comments are asking about her hair so she explains how she dilutes the bright colors by mixing them with conditioner to make them more pastel
  • “but that’s the easy part, root upkeep is the worst tho, I hate touch ups.”
  • neil vaguely knows what she’s talking about cause he’ll sit in the room when andrew helps her with her hair
  • nicky manages to tell half his life story in 60 seconds
  • neil uploads a second video of nicky giving advice to queer kids afraid to come out because of strict and religious parents or unsafe home lives
  • aaron walks away when neil tries to do his so instead neil uploads a five second video that’s just him zooming in on aaron sitting in a beanbag chair playing video games “aaron’s a dick.”
  • matt gets asked about his boxing background and he beams at the chance to talk about his mom
  • “she’s so badass, she taught me everything I know, she could kick anyone’s ass” he points at the camera “she’ll kick your ass. better watch out”
  • allison gives fashion tips, she also roasts neil for how he dressed when he first joined the team “god u guys should have seen him, fucking awful. nicky and I fixed him up tho, but it took a lot of work cause neil likes to make things difficult” 
  • when neil gets to andrew nobody expects him to actually upload anything but when he does the results are hilarious
  • neil sits next to andrew with the camera frontfaced so half of neil’s face is in the frame, andrew is curled up on the couch with a pint of ice cream and his glasses on “it’s time for your interview andrew”
  • andrew just stares at him
  • “why didn’t you sign with the rav- wait that’s a stupid fucking question, we’re not doing that one. alright. how many times have you and aaron been mistaken for one another?” 
  • andrew stares at the camera in silence
  • “tragic. next question. how are you so good at blocking goals?
  • silence
  • “incredible. what is your honest opinion about kevin day?”
  • andrew stares for a couple seconds before rolling his eyes and getting up to walk away, neil laughs and nods “I agree” 
  • BONUS: andrew has neil’s phone while they’re on the roof, neil is holding his cigarette and andrew starts filming, pointing the camera so you can only see neil
  • “hey junkie, it’s your turn to be interviewed” “alright” 
  • “how does it feel to finally have a real home?” 
  • neil smiles softly, but he’s looking at andrew not the camera “like I’m finally living, like I’ve got everything I could ever want”
  • there’s a short pause before you can faintly hear “285%” and the video cuts off
A History of Violence

Alpha!Werewolf!Sam x Omega!Werewolf!Reader - A/B/O

(part one of two)

Summary: You and Sam are a bonded pair with four children. You’re both interrogated by the police who are convinced that Sam and Dean are running a criminal enterprise.

This falls into the same AU as The Brown Bottle, Moonlight and The Derby

Warnings: Language, violence, murder, dom/sub overtones. mentions of: knotting, breeding, claiming, giving birth

Words: 3800+

Beta: The always wonderful @saxxxology

Your name: submit What is this?



The Raid

It’s just after one in the afternoon and you’re cutting the crust from a peanut butter sandwich. “Liam, you want jelly on yours?”

You son looks up from up his sea of building blocks with a grimace on his face. “No!”

“Alright, no jelly,” you confirm. His cheeks are pink, hair stuck to his forehead. The air conditioning broke two days ago and Sam promised to have one of his guys come by to look at it by tonight. “You look hot buddy, why don’t you come in here.”

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everyone thought they were Dumbo

“I found myself remembering the day in kindergarten when the teachers showed us Dumbo, and I realized for the first time that all the kids in the class, even the bullies, rooted for Dumbo, against Dumbo’s tormentors. Invariably they laughed and cheered, both when Dumbo succeeded and when bad things happened to his enemies. But they’re you, I thought to myself. How did they not know? They didn’t know. It was astounding, an astounding truth. Everyone thought they were Dumbo.

Again and again I saw the phenomenon repeated. The meanest girls, the ones who started secret clubs to ostracize the poorly dressed, delighted to see Cinderella triumph over her stepsisters. They rejoiced when the prince kissed her. Evidently, they not only saw themselves as noble and good, but also wanted to love and be loved. Maybe not by anyone and everyone, the way I wanted to be loved. But, for the right person, they were prepared to form a relation based on mutual kindness. This meant that the Disney portrayal of bullies wasn’t accurate, because the Disney bullies realized they were evil, prided themselves on it, and loved nobody.”

~ Elif Batuman, The Idiot

3

For @fangirl0170…reader works for NCIS as requested. Enjoy!

Y/N strolled into the lab, slightly late. She snagged her lab coat and threw it on. She looked up to be greeted by her co-worker as well as her father.

“Sorry I’m late,” she apologized.
“What?” Gibbs asked, “Sleep through the alarm?”
She smirked. “More like I beat the alarm and lost track of time.”

Gibbs smirked before he turned back to Abby. She cocked a brow before turning back to her monitor. She clicked her screen a few times.

“Like I was saying, the blood residue on the windshield doesn’t match the blood on the seat,” Abby explained.
“So, we have a missing body,” Gibbs deduced, “Thanks Abbs.”

He pressed a kiss to her temple. She grinned before he handed her a caf-pow. Smirking, he gave Y/N’s temple a kiss as well.

“Glad to see you make it, kid.”

Gibbs left the lab. Y/N turned to Abby who was holding a folder out to her. Y/N immediately opened it and started scanning. Her eyebrows raised.

“We’re working with the FBI’s BAU?” she questioned, “Why would he allow that?”
“He trusts us,” Abby quipped, “Well, the evidence, but us too. They’ve got some lookers, too.”
Y/N chuckled before moving to the monitor. “What do we got?”
“Yeah, you aren’t related,” Abby teased.


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His ||Jungkook|| 0.2

Member: Jungkook x Reader

Type: Angst, Fluff, Smut.

Teaser | 0.1 | 0.2

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I’ve been thinking a lot about Mac and Charlie pre the Reynolds. Like, all they had was each other. I bet Mac was very protective of Charlie- and Charlie was accepting of it. He didn’t make fun of Mac for his ocular pat downs, in fact, he still doesn’t. Before Dee and Dennis came along, neither of them had anyone to impress. They just cared about each other. Then, all of a sudden these competitive, destructive rich kids were hanging out with them and they felt the pressure.

Take Charlie’s scene in The Gang Misses the Boat when he tells Dee he only bullies her because he feels pressure from the guys. I think it’s the same dynamic with Mac and Charlie. Mac obviously wants to impress Dennis/get his attention, so he makes fun of Charlie. Charlie wants the same from Mac, so he gives it back and goes after Dee. (You could argue that Dennis is root of all of it.)

But in CharMac team up episodes (Mac and Charlie Die, Dennis and Dee Go On Welfare, Chardee Macdennis ect.) Charlie and Mac aren’t at each others throats. There’s a much more genuine, tender care for one another. 

So I think about them as kids, or in high school before they met the Reynolds. They spent their days throwing rocks at trains, avoiding their shitting parents, wrestling, and just taking care of each other. And I love the gang’s dynamic as a whole. I love CharDee MacDennis, possibly more than is healthy. But I can’t help but wonder where Mac and Charlie would be if they’d never met Dee and Dennis. Probably just living in a shitty apartment, maybe owning the bar, maybe not, and still taking care of each other. 

usatoday.com
Model Hanne Gaby Odiele comes out as intersex
Odiele is speaking out to raise awareness of harmful and unneeded surgeries intersex kids often endure without their consent.

Internationally-recognized fashion model Hanne Gaby Odiele has just become one of the most famous intersex public figures. 

Odiele, 29, came out as intersex in an interview with USA Today. She will be partnering with the advocacy group interACT Advocates for Intersex Youth to raise awareness about the humans rights violations, such as nonconsensual genital surgeries, that intersex babies and children often undergo. 

Odiele was one of those children. She was born with an intersex trait known as Androgen Insensitivity Syndrome (AIS) in which a woman has XY chromosomes more typically found in men. She also had internal, undescended testes, and her parents were told that if she did not have her testicles removed, “I might develop cancer and I would not develop as a normal, female girl,” she says.

At 10, she had surgery to remove her testes, an experience she could barely process at the time. “I knew at one point after the surgery I could not have kids, I was not having my period. I knew something was wrong with me.”

At 18, Odiele — whose modeling career took root when she was discovered a year earlier at a music festival in Belgium — underwent an equally distressing procedure in the form of vaginal reconstructive surgery.

“It’s not that big of a deal being intersex,” she says. But the anguish of the two surgeries is an issue for her that is still troubling today. “If they were just honest from the beginning… It became a trauma because of what they did.”

Wow. This is a gripping story – one that so many people share – and she has an incredible platform to tell it. Congratulations on sharing this with the world, Hanne, and thank you for paying it forward. 

Volunteer

Harry sits on the ground, fanning himself as he drank his water, his eyes on the girl sitting across from him. Y/N held the child in her arms, he was no more than five months old. He could see the tears in her eyes as she held on to him, shielding him from the sun. She was singing to him, it was soft, and her voice was a disaster, but it seemed to work, and Harry liked it.

Another kid sat next to Y/N, his forehead rested on her lap as he listened to her sing. Harry had noticed how the little boy had taken a liking to her, following her around, eating with her, hanging around near her, and he thought it was cute. He wished he could be attached at the hip to Y/N without freaking her out.

“How long have you been working here?” Harry asked once the infant fell asleep.

Y/N looks away from him, “not long, when I was in high school every year I would fly out here and volunteer and when I finished medical school I knew what I wanted. I didn’t want to work in a hospital, at least not now, I wanted to come back here and help take care of them, build more homes,” she smiled at him, “did you actually want to come here or did your managers make you?”

His managers had made him, but Harry didn’t put up the fight because he didn’t want to work, it’s just the work upset him. Seeing the sick kids, the heat in Africa was insane, and the suffering he had to witness made him upset. The worst part was the kids would get attached and he knew he would have to leave soon, leave them, leave her.

“I’ve been here before,” Harry says, sipping his water, “it just upsets me.”

“I love them,” Y/N whispered, placing a kiss on the infant’s forehead and gently rubbing the back of the other child, her eyes watering, “my plan was to be here for two years, but I don’t think I can go, I don’t think I can do that to them.”

The weeks Harry had spent here he had spent them alongside Y/N, and they had gotten close. Kisses where shared, cuddles, they shared their bed at night. Harry liked Y/N, in the three years she had been here she had forgotten about One Direction, about Harry, and he was so happy to meet someone who didn’t judge him, who didn’t know him. Y/N loved spending her time with Harry, so when he asked her, no when he begged her, to come back with him she said yes, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t up root her life for a boy.

“But don’t you miss everything?” Harry asked.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, shaking her head, “they need me here Harry, I can’t leave unless I know they’re in good hands, there are hardly any doctors who will come here and live in this condition, accept the pay I get, and love these kids.”

Harry looks at his lap, “I get it,” he says, “I do.”

“I love you too,” she promised, “I do.”

Harry stands, wiping the sweat off his forehead, “I should go pack,” he whispered, ignoring her confession, “my plane leaves in the mornin’.”

And he left, leaving a heartbroken Y/N on the ground.


Harry had never been the same since that day, and people saw it. His family saw it, but he didn’t want to talk about Y/N. He didn’t want people to know about her, because that meant he had to share her, and he wasn’t ready for that.

It had been three years, Harry had now turned 26 and he was tired. He was tired of not being able to find the same thing he felt with Y/N with someone else. He was tired of not being able to think about her, he was mad. He was mad he had left without saying how he really felt, he was mad he never returned, he was mad he had lost her.

“How much did you donate again?” Nick asked as he sipped his drink, looking around the dinner.

“About eight million,” Harry says, scratching the back of his neck, “I put it under her name though.”

“You’re still hung up on that girl?” Nick asked, raising an eyebrow.

Harry rolled his eyes, grabbing a glass of wine. He wasn’t really in the mood to attend tonight’s benefit, but he had donated so much and they insisted on having him. Harry sighed, looking around the room, and then his heart stopped. He wasn’t sure if it was the wine or real life, but he could’ve sworn he saw her, Y/N.

She stands, smiling, as she talks to someone. Her hair isn’t in the usual bun or braids, but instead it’s long, longer than Harry remembered, and in curls. Her hair seemed to flow, stopping just below her chest, her smile bright, her hand gripping a glass with water in it.

“Excuse me,” Harry whispered, making his way over, “Y/N?” Harry asked, hope building inside him.

Y/N turns, her eyes widening, “Harry!” she giggled, hugging him.

Harry wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. She doesn’t smell the same, she smells like coconut and vanilla, but it suites her. Harry holds her as tight as possible, remembering the feeling of her, remembering her gentle touch.

“Hi,” she smiled, pulling away, her cheeks pink, “how have you been?”

“Good, what about you? what are you doing here? Are you back for good? Where are you staying? Why-when-what?” Harry rambles, holding on her arms.

Y/N laughs, the same flutter in his stomach appears, “I’m good, I’m good,” Y/N smiled, “I moved out to LA about five months ago? I got a job at the hospital, I’m back for good yeah, I actually-“

“Mommy!” A smaller voice says, running over, the boy stands in a little suit, and Harry recognized him instantly, he was the same infant that would settle in Y/N’s arm every day.

Y/N bends down, picking him up, “what’s up love bug?” she asked, kissing his cheek.

“Ayo t-took my toy,” he frowns.

Soon enough Harry sees the same boy that would follow Y/N around appear, a truck in his hand, “Ayo,” Y/N says, her voice gentle, “please, can you just share with your brother, I promise that we will be out in one hour,” she pleads.

“Can we get ice cream? Please?” Ayo asked, his brown eyes wide and full of hope.

“If you behave,” Y/N compromises.

“Deal,” Ayo smiled.

“Okay Daniel, go sit with your brother at the table, I’ll be there soon,” Y/N smiled, kissing both of their cheeks and watching them run off.

She turns back to Harry, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, “sorry about that, but what where we talking about?” she asked.

“You, I mean-and now you have-you’re a mum-and-you’re here,” Harry breathed out.

“I couldn’t leave them. The organization got a great donation and more doctors came, but I couldn’t leave my boys behind, it was a process to adopt and get them here, but it was worth it,” Y/N smiled, looking at the kids in adoration, “but what about you? I had a chance to listen to your music and it’s great Harry, the boys love it to, Sweet Creature is their favorite, knocks them right out at night.”

Harry chuckled, imagining her terrible voice singing to the two boys at night. Harry wasn’t sure if he stopped smiling, but he knew he couldn’t look away from her, “I’m good-I just-wow, I can’t believe you’re here,” Harry whispered, reaching up to cup her cheek, she blushed, but a smile remained on her lips.

“I missed you,” she says.

“Oh baby,” Harry sighed, “I missed you so much, you have no idea. Oh, Y/N, I can’t-I still can’t believe that you’re here.”

“I am,” she giggled, reaching up to grab his hand, “I’m here.”


“Woah,” Y/N says, stepping back as the kids run past her in the living room, she grips the plate tighter, trying to make sure it doesn’t fall.

“Kids be careful,” a voice yelled from the top of the stairs, it wasn’t harsh, but it was loud enough so the two kids could hear.

“Sorry daddy,” Daniel says, jumping on to the couch as he waited for Harry to come down the stairs.

Harry chuckled, grabbing the tray from Y/N and kissing her cheek. She smiled, placing a hand on her hip, “the snacks are done, the chicken is in the oven, and dessert in the fridge,” she says, as Harry sets the tray on the table.

Daniel lean over, grabbing some crackers, “save some room for when Nana comes over,” Harry says, leaning over and picking up Daniel.

“Where’s your brother?” Y/N asked, fixing Daniel’s shirt, Harry sets the four year old down on the ground.

Daniel shrugs, “playing video games,” he answered.

“I’ll get him-“

“No I will! Ayoooooo,” Daniel yelled, running up the stairs.

Harry chuckled, turning to Y/N. She leaned against the stair ways, a smile on her face as she looked back at him. It came as a shock to her, that Harry didn’t mind her having the kids, it came as a bigger shock when they started calling him daddy and Harry didn’t care. But Y/N was more than happy to have him around, and Harry was excited to have her back in his life.

“They have too much energy,” Harry chuckled, leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss to her lips.

“I love them so much, a little too much maybe, I cried this morning when I had to drop them off at school,” Y/N stated, her hands fixing the buttons on Harry’s shirt.

Harry laughed, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ears, “it’s true,” she giggled.

“What about having one of our own?” Harry asked, his eyes hopeful, “a little me and you.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, “a third child?”

“I love them so much Y/N, but I want a little girl, one that we’ve made, and I’ll love her just as much as Daniel and Ayo.”

“We will discuss it later,” Y/N promised, kissing his cheek, “but right now your mother is waiting to be buzzed in.”

Harry watched her walk to the security pad, buzzing Anne in. He wasn’t sure how he got so lucky, but he knew he couldn’t let her go.

How Much Difference Practice can make

Eight years ago I began to draw seriously. I have always loved drawing, but now I wanted to get better. It was around this time I entered my first fandom- Sonic the Hedgehog. And like many others, I tried to draw my own oc. To be honest, she was a trainwreck. I had no idea what I was doing, and Krystal the Arctic Fox was the outlet for that cluelessness. The art was bad, even compared to other beginners. The design was odd and so was her story. But she always held art special place in my heart as the first character I made.

Now I am glad I never stopped trying. While other kids saw something bad, I saw an opportunity. I kept on drawing, and learning. As I spread my artistic wings and got more practice, I slowly began to improve. Even when my artistic exploits took me far away from the Sonic fandom, I always remembered where I began. And now, after coming back to my roots as one might say, I am glad this fandom is where I got my start. Now I am in no way a famous or overly outstanding artist, but I still credit this fandom with much of my development.

When I uncovered my old picture and design of Krystal a few days ago, I decided to remake her in honor of that begining. She is completely unrecognizable compared to her old self. A new name, design… everything. But I could not have been happier with how she turned out. 

So, fellow artists, never give up. Keep on practicing- what a difference it can make! And artistrtistslways remember where you got your start; it can have a much bigger impact on your artistic career than you might think.

Hold This Heart Steady

*click thru to read on ao3

written by: Emily | @prosciuttoe

prompt: ‘Post season three, Clarke decides she needs a haircut and asks Bellamy to help her.’ for anonymous

word count: 1533

In which a haircut helps Clarke realize that there are a lot of things that she needs to tell Bellamy.


There aren’t many things that Clarke misses about the Ark. She doesn’t miss the stale, recycled air that leaves her with a sour taste on her tongue; The relentless, enduring hum of the machines lasting through the night; the too-white walls that make her vision blur and her eyes sting after long shifts at the med bay.

The only thing she misses are the bathrooms.

Or, to be more specific, the private bathrooms attached to the apartments.

She yelps when the door slams open, the sound of wood striking metal jarring against the quiet of the room. Instinctively, she fumbles for the towel wrapped around her, hefting it higher.

There’s a beat where Bellamy, eclipsed by a halo of light and bearing an uncanny resemblance to one of the Greek gods that grace the covers of his tattered novels, just sort of stares, before it apparently dawns on him that she’s not exactly decent.

“Sorry,” he says, flushing. His voice is scratchy, and she has to repress the quick shiver that rushes up her spine. “Didn’t think anyone else would be in here at this time of night.”

“It’s a communal shower,” she deadpans, relaxing and flexing her hands by her sides. “I think it’s safe to assume that there’s always going to be someone in here. Even at three in the morning.”

He shrugs at that, the motion pulling his shirt distractingly tight around his shoulders. “I can come back later, if you want. Let you finish up.”

“It’s fine,” she insists, and it only strikes her then how true the words are. “I really don’t mind.”

The corners of his lips quirk up at that; the smallest of smiles. “Only if you’re sure, Princess. Wouldn’t want to interrupt your beautification routine.”

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Draco x Reader - Friendzoned. (2)

Hello, loves xx Sorry for the delay, but I had a lot of things going on lately. Hope you will like it, and the next part, that I will be working on tomorrow!

PART 1 | PART 3 |

Originally posted by fallen-angel-potterhead

A few weeks have passed and the members of the newly formed slytherin group seemed to have already settled in with their daily routines. 
With Umbridge trying to make the students as oblivious as she could, in regard to the matters concerning the wizarding society, and her approaches to shut Harry Potter down, it seemed that this year had still a lot in stock for everyone.

They knew it was all thanks to the stupidity of the Minister of Magic, who wasn’t yet ready to face the truth. They were fully conscious of the fact, that there was something out there, waiting for them and there was no point in denying that. They tried to pry information from their parents, but were left with no answer. At least not one that would be indeed telling the truth. Knowing that the line was thin, they preferred not to cross it, and decided it would be better, to wait it out.

Although, there was one thing that made them really frustrated. Even without the full knowledge about the current situation, they knew that they could really use some good lessons of Defense Against the Dark Arts.
Unfortunately the text book that they have been provided with was plainly idiotic. And without any practical use of the spells, they knew that something had to be done. But with Umbridge watching their every step, they always felt that they had to postpone their plans.
Unfortunately, as time went on a subtle fall out began to form in the group. Umbridge’s regime started to divide them between the ones that did everything in order to please her, and the ones that stated strongly their dissatisfaction with the others actions. But it wasn’t anything dramatic, and they chose not to pay much attention to it, thinking it would be just a temporary issue.

Even though there were some new rules they had to oblige to, the school year hasn’t changed much. Especially potions with professor Snape, who was not very keen on changing his teaching methods.

“Stop that, you twat!” Y/N whispered in Draco’s ear while shoving him slightly, trying not to make much fuss. As always the two were partners in the potions class. They never switched their places with anyone, even if Draco was dating Pansy and the amount of their mutual friends has grown significantly. It was their place and their time to be together for a bit.

“What? I’m not doing anything wrong, woman” he replied quietly while narrowing his eyes at her “You should work on your problems with aggression somewhere else, I did not sign up to be your punching bag”

“Have you even read the instructions?”

“I don’t have to” he shrugged, a confident smirk crossing his features “And you know that I’m right. There is some kind of mistake in the directions” Y/N huffed annoyed. She knew there was no point in arguing with him. He was really good at potions and made it very clear on every occasion he got. But that didn’t mean that she couldn’t tease him a bit.

“Well then, do your thing, Mr. I’m always right”

“Oh, I really do appreciate the lack of sarcasm in your voice today, darling” he said smugly, still adding some ingredients to the potion.

“No problem. You know I’m always there for you” she said mockingly while playfully patting his arm. He smirked and turned his head in order to face her. 

“Watch over it for a second” he said, as he stood up and headed into the direction of the supply room. Making his way back he couldn’t help but chuckle at the way Y/N put all of her attention on the mixture in front of her. He found it adorable when she did that, trying her best to ace at the subject.

He came up to her from the back being as quiet as he could.
“Have you burned it yet?” Draco grinned, and put his arm around Y/N, making her jump up a bit.

“Can you please stop that? I’m concentrating here”

“Calm down” he bent down his head, his face now only a few inches away from hers “I was just kidding” he whispered into her ear, his hot breath lingering around, sending a shiver down Y/N’s spine “ Here is the last ingredient” 

He threw a little bag with powdered root of Asphodel on the table, and sat comfortably on his stool, a satisfied look on his face. They often flirted with each other innocently, making it just a verbal thing. Y/N liked the excitement that he made her feel. She enjoyed it, but she also knew that it had to end. As much as she didn’t want to, she felt guilty in regard to Pansy, who was his girlfriend. It just wasn’t right.

“We have to stop it Draco” 

“Stop what?” he raised his brow, a look of confusion appearing on his face. The bell rang and the students got up while gathering their things. Snape dismissed them saying that all of their potions will be brewing until the next lesson to reveal the results, which he will then grade. As soon as the class ended Pansy was quickly by Draco’s side, tugging on his sleeve and trying her best to get his full attention focused on her.

“You know what I mean” Y/N said quietly, as she grabbed her bag and walked out the room. After a few minutes, she was joined by Theo, mocking the couple that they have left behind. Lately due to the similarity of their opinions they began to spend more time together. And as they did so, she realized that she cared for him more as a friend, than a possible boyfriend material. 

“You know that you are my best friend?” he asked her suddenly, putting his arm around her in a playful way.

“And?” she chuckled at his actions, as they walked trough the lightly dimmed corridor.

“And ” he made a dramatic pause “Your friend could really use some help with ancient runes” 

“Only if you help me with charms” she replied, and held out her hand “Deal?”

“Deal” he smirked while symbolically shaking her hand “When and where?”

“Library, after dinner” Y/N said over her shoulder, as she walked away, already heading to another classroom “And don’t be late” 

“Have I ever been late?” he shouted after her, not noticing that Draco was now standing right beside him “Late for what, Nott?” 

tagging : @princesse-de-ravenclaw @namelesslosers @abitofmxdness @ashadowhuntersworld @d0wnbutnot0ut @all-theesee-fandoms @missidontknowwhatimdoing @thesuitelifeofriverdale

okaynatsu  asked:

Are you still doing prompts? If so could you do “Please talk to me.” And "I can't trust you" nalu please

Miscommunication

Word Count; 1307

A/N; This is really angsty whoops lol. Also it’s two am rn. Have some fun highschool AU stuff in which Natsu is a dumb teenage boy and Lucy is also a teenager. I was thinking around the 15/16 mark? Full of self rightousd energy and over reactive, bcus what teenager doesn’t think they know everything only to have it blow up in their faces a few times? This time, it’s Natsu realizing he can’t judge without knowing the full story, and Lucy realizing that honesty helps people get why she does things.

“Please talk to me.”

Natsu rolled his eyes, making a show of turning up the volume on his head phones. 

“Natsu,” she begged, putting herself in his way. Her eyes were red rimmed, the usual pretty honey brown murky with tears. As if Natsu would fall for that. Again.

“What do you want?” he asked, his gut twinging at how she flinched at his words. He mentally shook himself, why should he care about how some liar felt? He shoved past her, lips thinning when he felt her grab his elbow. 

“Please, just let me explain-”

“What do you want to explain Lucy? That you lied to all of your ‘friends’? To me? That you used us to get back at your dad? Why don’t you go back to your high life up on that hill and leave us ‘vagrants’ alone?” Natsu spat, yanking his arm out of her hands. Lucy stepped back, shock and pain coating her face openly. Natsu had trusted her instantly, opening his home to the strange teenager he met on the street. 

He hadn’t been so wrong about anything before in his life. 

“I never called you that!” Lucy said, voice high and angry and desperate. Natsu scoffed. “I didn’t” she insisted. “Natsu please, I’m sorry I lied to you about my last name but you have to believe me-”

“Trust you?” Natsu asked, crossing his arms over his chest and ignoring how his backpack slipped into the crook of his elbow. “I can’t trust you.”

“Just let me explain!” Lucy screamed, stamping her foot as more tears spilled down her cheeks. Natsu paused, shocked at her sudden anger. Lucy took his silence as letting her speak, scrubbing at her face violently as she hiccuped. Guilt coiled hot and tight in his chest. He’d made her cry. 

“Yes. Yes, I lied about who I was, okay? I c-come from a big house with lots of money and everything someone could ask for. But I- I would give it all up again because I hate it. My dad,” Lucy broke off, lip warbling and her eyes darting away from him. She hugged herself, Natsu reaching out for her but able to stop himself from comforting her. She continued on, not noticing his hand falling to his side. 

“My dad isn’t a good man. I’m sure he was at some point, but after my mom died… He changed. He started drinking. Focused all his time on his job. You know, it’s actually kinda sad, but last month when you guys through me that birthday party was the first time I celebrated my birthday in almost ten years?” Lucy laughed at herself, wiping her face again. She wasn’t lying. Natsu felt it in his bones, that she wasn’t lying and he was making her so scared and sad that she felt like she owed him her life’s story. Natsu made a choking noise, his disgust for himself catching in his throat. Lucy cringed, curling tighter into herself at his noise. 

How could he have been so wrong?

“I ran away becasue I couldn’t stand being alone in that stupid house anymore. All my dad cares about is money and power. I, I overheard him talking to one of his business partners. He was going to pull me out of school, and then when I turned eighteen he promised I’d ma- marry him. Can you believe that? Who trades their daughter for a bigger share in an oil company?” Lucy took in a deep breath, wet and raspy and all Natsu wanted to do was hold her. Drag her back to the shelter Fairy Tail and never let her dad find her again.

“Lucy,” Natsu started, rooted to his spot. God, why couldn’t he be better with emotions and dealing with people?

“So I changed my name, took on my mom’s last name of Ashley because I refused to be anything like my father. And it worked, for a bit. Of course I felt guilty lying to you guys about who I was, and I tried to make myself useful around the shelter to make up for taking up space that other kids needed more.”

Natsu balked. Who could need some place safe to stay more than a girl fearing for her future?

“But then he found me. A-and said all that awful stuff about you guys, but I guess you over heard that, huh?” Lucy gave him a wry smile, eyes flat as she finally looked at him. God, he’d really fucked up this time. “So, I- I just wanted to let you know I’m sorry. It’s my fault my dad tried to shut down the shelter and it’s my fault he said all that stuff about you guys being ‘vangrants’ and ‘hood rats’. As if my dad even cared about who I hung out with outside of how it affected the Heartfilia name. I’m sorry I lied Natsu, and betrayed your trust, and everyone at Fairy Tail. I’ll leave you alone now, I- I just needed to let you know.”

Lucy gave him a small smile, stepping back half a step as she dropped her gaze to the concrete. Natsu felt his backpack slip from his arm completely, ignoring it as it hit the ground. He grabbed Lucy’s wrist, panic blooming through his mind. “What do you mean you’ll leave me alone?” he asked, searching her face. Lucy looked at him, brows scrunched in confusion.

“I’m going home,” Lucy said slowly, standing rigid in her place. Natsu shook his head, stepping closer to her.

“You can’t.”

“I have nowhere else to go,” Lucy said with a small, sad smile. “I’ll be fine, really. I won’t be eighteen for another two years. Maybe their contract will fall through.” She didn’t sound hopeful, even as she put on a facade. For him. The one who had chased her back into the control of that monster.

“No.” Natsu said simply, yanking her towards him and hugging her as tightly as he could. “I was wrong. Yeah you lied, but you were doing what you had to do to survive.”

“I’m not going to die,” Lucy said calmly, still in Natsu’s arms and tense. 

“Your soul will.”

Natsu let that sink in, an exhale finally leaving him when Lucy returned his hug tightly. “I’m sorry I was an ass. Fairy Tail was lucky to have you. All that matters is that you’re Lucy. The sweet, caring, loud, weird girl who makes the entire room smile with you. You’re family, and I never should have said the shit I did. I’m sorry Lucy. I’m so fucking sorry.”

Lucy didn’t say anything, but Natsu felt her start to shake in his arms, nails digging into his back through his shirt where she was holding onto him tightly. They stood in the middle of the sidewalk for another minute, Natsu uncaring of any looks they got. He pulled away, giving her a small smile when she wiped her face again. She was even pretty when she cried, which Natsu thought was almost insulting. Who taught their child to be controlled even when they cried?

Natsu grabbed her hand, picking up his backpack as he started walking in the direction of Fairy Tail. “Natsu?” Lucy called, concern flashing through her eyes, Natsu thankful to notice some of the old spark returning to them. “Where are we going?”

“I’m taking you home,” Natsu said simply. “Gray’s gonna beat my ass for making you cry, but we have to claim your room again, yeah?” HE smiled at her as brightly as he could, hoping to force some confidence and nonchalance into his words. Fear made his heart skip a beat when he saw fresh tears form in her eyes, quickly washed away when Lucy beamed at him, nodding quickly.

“Okay Natsu. Let’s go home.”

Bob Morley Imagine: Secretly

Requested 

Summary: Reader and Bob are secretly dating. However, their characters just got together on the show and on a conference everyone teases them about it. It makes them, especially reader, feel uncomfortable. So reader confronts the cast members about it and Bob unintentionally reveals that they are dating which makes cast freak out.

Word count:1353


Originally posted by love-is-equal66

I couldn’t decide if this con was disaster or the best time of my life. It was the first con when I and Bob were a couple. The problem was that no one knew.

We had decided to keep it a secret. In fact I didn’t know why, but it was Bob’s idea. He thought that it would be better because it would prevent us from getting various kinds of reactions from fans. Because this fandom could be really harsh towards the actors and make our lives a living hell.

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