i would be overjoyed


I know I’m supposed to be finished with TUE, but this has always bugged me so much. I finally thought of something that made me feel better about it, so I had to backtrack for just a bit.

My sister has a headcanon (one I think she saw on tumblr somewhere) that Mr. Lancer’s statue used to say “Gone with the Wind.” It just sank into the earth, so “gone” is all that’s seen. I love that idea, because Mr. Lancer would be overjoyed to have a book title on his memorial.

The only thing that bugged me was that I couldn’t think of a reason for Lancer to get his own statue. Why wasn’t he just included with everyone else?

Then it hit me that the Fentons, Sam, and Tucker were all actually pretty close. In particular, they were all close to Danny. It’d make sense for their memorial to be paid for by Vlad for Danny’s sake, or (in my opinion more realistically) by the Mansons for Sam’s sake.

Despite not always getting along, Sam’s family did love her. I can absolutely see them wanting to build a statue to honor her and the other victims.

Lancer, however, was left off at the request of the students of Casper High. They hadn’t always respected him, but he did a lot for his students. They decided they owed it to him to make a special statue just for him, as a thank you for everything he did.

So, the students of Casper High put together a fundraiser and paid for Lancer’s separate statue themselves, with “Gone with the Wind” written on it. Mr. Lancer would’ve loved it.

I honestly love that 99% of the Star Trek fandom is so… nontoxic.

Yeah of course there’s the shadowlands and the elephant graveyard where the light doesn’t touch and anon hate roams wild, but compared to a lot of other fandoms it’s not only “chill” but widely accepting and outwardly kind!

Whenever I have a conversation about characters or ships or headcannons even if others disagree with me there’s an initial attitude of “oh huh I haven’t looked at it like that!” and then a discussion/debate which might not end in agreement but usually ends with a “cool thought process!” and that is SO underrated.

I feel so non-stressed when engaging with most other Trekkies because even if I ship Spirk and someone ships Spuhura I can still admit that Uhura’s a badass who cares about Spock a LOT and the other person can admit that Kirk flashes Spock bedroom eyes whenever the Vulcan makes a snarky comment.

And people share fanart and fanfics and have such nice things to say and they generally just enjoy the content without tearing others down! And if someone says “your fave is problematic” there’s a general willingness to listen and accept certain things and then continue to enjoy the content without needing to shame anyone for that enjoyment!

I know this is a bit sappy but I just love that a show about a future where everyone is treated with kindness and respect brings that out in so many people *today* because we’ll never get where we want to go if we don’t work towards it now, but I think we are working towards it, and I know Gene would be overjoyed to see that his work has led to so many good people doing good things.



desc: Newt is unable to grasp why you would ever find fascination in observing him, which is followed by a heartfelt moment, and admittance of love. 

Kisses and lots of FLUFF! <3 (gif not mine, creds to owner)

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Newt Scamander was an absolute work of art, and simply studying his features helped you relax, so you did. He sat at the polished oak table, his right leg shaking as he focused, his honey colored locks sprawled across his forehead. When he focused, these little crinkles appeared from the furrow of his eyebrows, and he would chew his lower lip whilst deep in thought. A golden beam of sunlight twinkled across his button nose, rosy cheeks, and brilliant blue-green eyes. He reached for his steaming mug of tea, letting the curls of steam crawl over his face before taking a careful sip. Then his lips twitched ever so noticeably, and you could make out the little dimples of his curious smile.

“Why are you staring at me?” he asked, his head still bent into his leather notebook, his white feather quill tight in his hand.

You sat across the table from him, head in palm as you examined him, “because you’re very nice to stare at, Newt.”

This split his lips into a wide grin, and he gently set his quill down before giving his full attention to you. “I can’t focus when you’re devouring me with those eyes.”

You shrugged, giving a small grin, “you’re always staring at me, too.”

Newt’s glimmering eyes crinkled, “well, that’s different.”

“Oh yeah?” you teased, “how so?”

“Well, you see, with you - okay, but - you’re very, well-” New continuously tripped over his words as he fumbled to piece together his thoughts. 

“Go on,” you encouraged, stretching your hand across the table.

Newt brought his eyes down, his hand coming up gently to rest in yours, his fingers intertwining with the most cautious ease. He strung his fingers between yours, his eyes looking over your hands for a good while.

“Newt, you’re doing it again,” you giggled, when he’d gotten distracted and removed his hand to draw patterns all over your palms.

“What? Oh, oh, yes, right,” he sighed, putting his hand back in yours. He looked back up, his cheeks flushing a soft pink. “Erm, well, you are the most fascinatingly charming girl I h-have ever had the pleasure of coming upon,” he began, his cheeks reddening at once. “So y-you see, when I study my creatures, I am always discovering more of their hidden wonders, as I am with you. Sometimes the sunlight will cross different crevices of your face, sometimes your eyes are darker than usual, sometimes a strand of hair falls loose, a-and sometimes you’re smile is so wonderfully mesmerizing that I must always…watch. I can’t miss a moment, you see, I have to study you until I know all you’re little quirks like the back of my hand.” Newts eyes had drifted onto a patch of table around halfway through, unable to hold your gaze.

You squeezed his hand really lightly to get his focus, “Newt.” 

He released your hand and brought his own back down into his lap, shifting in his chair and looking very flustered when he looked back up at you.

“Newt, you’re too good to me,” you whispered, feeling ridiculous for wanting to cry. 

“I’m just so lucky to have you, please know this,” he mumbled hurriedly.

You shook your head with a faint laugh, “what makes you think I have no reason to admire you?”

His jaw clenched a little, and you saw his face droop, “my love, there is nothing special to see.”

That physically pained you to hear.

“Newt!” you gasped, “Please, never say that again.”

He grew instantly worried, “Oh-I’m so sorry, please forgive me, I-”

“Shh,” you cut him off and stood up, heading around the table and taking a seat right beside him, turning your chair toward Newt. He half-heartedly turned to face you as well.

“Newt,” you smiled sadly, raising your palm up to graze his cheek. He twitched nervously under your touch, but you reassured him and rested your hand against his freckle dotted skin.

“Newt, you are the kindest and most amazing person ever, and I hate to see you doubting yourself like this. You are so special Newt, and I wish you could see yourself the way I do; as a sweet, loving, and most definitely heart stoppingly beautiful human being. Yes there are kind folks out there, yes there are gorgeous folks out there, but never have I found someone who is both as gorgeous and compassionate to the extent that you are, which is why I am so deeply in lo-”

You stopped short, realizing you had spoken too much and instantly freezing over. You had never exchanged the three magic words with Newt before, and suddenly it seemed nothing but terrifying.

Newts mouth opened, his skin warming beneath your fingertips, “What?”

“N-nothing,” you mumbled, dropping your hand nervously.

Newt grabbed your hand gently before it could fall, and took it in his own, bringing it right up to his chest. You could feel his steady heartbeat rapidly quickening beneath the fabric of his soft clothes.

“Do you feel that?” he gulped.

You nodded shyly, “Yeah?”

“That, (Y/N), is what one who is madly in love feels,” he smiled nervously. “This here, i-is physical proof of how I feel when I’m with you, and how it feels to be head over heels for y-you, my darling.”

You felt your own heartbeat falter before quickening, and Newt asked, “Do you love me too?”

He had said it so quietly that you almost missed it. His lips quivered, his slender fingers trembling as his face sunk into a state of absolute sadness and worry. You couldn’t even speak at the sight, so instead you brought his hand up to your own chest, and lay it against your heart. Newt stretched his fingers slowly across your front, his palm taking in the rapid and intense thrum of your heartbeat.

“You tell me,” you breathed quietly.

He brought his eyes from your heart to your painfully nervous gaze. Once again, his lips twitched and broke into that familiar smile. The sun sent flares across his warm features and illuminated his overjoyed expression.

“I would very much like to kiss you right now, if you would allow me,” he proposed shyly.

You couldn’t help but laugh, your smile stretching wide as you gave him a nod.

Newt pulled a stray hair of yours affectionately behind your ear before tracing down to your jawline and resting his hand beneath your chin. He gave you one last look before tilting his head in with a flutter of his eyelids. Your eyes closed at the moment where your lips made contact. It was only for the briefest of moments, but was plenty enough for you to feel intoxicated by the taste you were given. He was soft and gentle with you, as if you were a fragile piece, and his lips were full, warm, and tasted of delightful sugar sweet joy. You could feel his hand quivering beneath your chin, but you pushed your lips in a little deeper to show you were at ease with him. You felt a rolling crystal droplet trickle down from his eyes and down onto your lips, but the taste of salt in the kiss was one that you knew was from tears of joy. Newt’s timid lips twitched upwards against yours, and he pulled back a second later, forgetting to breathe for a moment. He gulped down the lump in his throat and took a deep breath in whilst opening his bluish green eyes again.

“T-that was-” he stuttered.

“Wonderful,” you smiled and bent forward, dropping a light peck against Newt’s nose. You brought your own head down to Newt’s chest, and burrowed into the crevice of his neck, where you breathed in the scent of flowers and, possibly, niffler. He brought his hand up to hold your head, his free arm coming around your waist and giving you a squeeze. You smiled against his skin and let your eyes come to a close.

Newt sat quietly, formulating sentences but only coming up with one, “I’m just… so lucky to have you,” he whispered again.

Meet Me In The Hallway; H.S.

She’d always meet me in the hallway. Whether it was four AM, three in the afternoon or so early she had almost had to leave for work, she was waiting for me to come home. For a kiss placed upon her lips, her arms snaking around my waist one of the things I always looked forward to. Gradually, she didn’t wait for me anymore. I don’t know what caused her to be so heartbroken that she’d just laid on the sofa, eyes trained on the television as I passed her.

I know where it started. Rumours. I’m not one to go around and lie that I didn’t do anything wrong, because I’m not perfect – but whatever magazines were slandering about, I knew that wasn’t true. I’d never do anything that would do Y/n any wrong. But I think, and somehow, I hope I’m wrong, that it had gotten through her head. Everything she heard – from so many people – pictures that were ripped out of their context – I just couldn’t blame her. We never spoke a word about it. Per her request.

I hope she still loves me. I hope, that when it gets better, when I get better, she’ll give me another chance and it’ll work out. When I got home today, her last drop seemed to have fallen.

“Y/N, I’m home…” My voice hasn’t been chirpy since she stopped waiting for me – I know I can’t just expect her to do so, but it seemed she enjoyed it as well. I hear a mumble coming from somewhere out of my field of sight, so I take a few steps into my home.

“Harry.” Y/n appears in front of me, apparently completely dressed, her jacket slung over her shoulder. I stare at her, at every aspect of her, and I feel my throat already constricting. “Where are you going love?” Her lip starts quivering and without a second thought I leap towards her and cup her face in my cold hands.

“H., I – I need some time off. I think.” She averts her gaze and I swallow to keep any fluids at bay. Within a split second, I wanted to scream out and vomit all over my floor. She can’t leave me. Not now. “Y/n, sweetheart, where would you go? Please, don’t leave me.”

She just shakes her head. I don’t want her to disappear through that door and not know where she is. I don’t think my heart could handle that. It was more than logical in my mind that the next words flowed past my lips. “Stay. I’ll leave.”

“Harry, no. This is your home; I was just a guest.” She pushes me away from her and starts shrugging her jacket on; but I won’t have it. “The moment you stepped foot insides this house it was also yours. Everything that I own is yours.” My words were heavy and I hope she grasped the nuances behind it. For now, I might as well leave.

“I’ll come collect my things when you’re at work tomorrow.” I mumble, my voice so strained I think she knows exactly how I feel. I take another step towards her, pressing my lips against hers, for maybe, my last time. I didn’t look back, because she would see how much this was paining me.

I had roamed the streets for the rest of the day. I didn’t want Y/n doing this, but right now I didn’t know where to go either. Of course, I could just give Lou or Niall a call and I’m sure they’d help me out almost immediately, but, we were going our own way and I don’t think they liked their former bandmate crashing on their sofa for an unspecified amount of time.

I walk and walk, think and try to force myself to think harder, for it to get better, for me to get better, for some way to work this out. I knew my girl and I know the most important thing she needed now was time. But I wasn’t going down without a fight.

My chest still feels vice-grip-tight, my throat closed off. I’m in some sort of daze where I somewhat realize I’m walking the streets of London, but I have absolutely no idea where I am. At some point, I’m sure I passed Piccadilly Circus, but it seemed so empty. I had never seen it empty.

This is hard, both for her and I alike. I wouldn’t want to think about reading so much slander about my girlfriend and pretending everything is alright. I would’ve cracked months ago. The hours pass and the sun trades his place with the moon.

When I stop in front of his door, I don’t know how much time has passes. I just hope he’s still up. I need a friend, horribly. I hear his heavy footsteps stomp towards his front door and shrug my coat closer to my shivering frame as I hear the familiar click.

“H.? What are you doing here? It’s almost six in the morning, man.” Niall opens the door, rubbing his eyes tiredly as he stares behind me to see if I brought anyone with me – Y/N.

“Y/n and I – uh – we are on a break.” I cast my gaze down, biting my lips while stuffing my hands in my coat pockets. I hear Niall sigh and the door creak. “Come in, H. You want some tea?”

I talk to Niall about it. Every single little thing that has eventually built up to my relationship crumbling at my feet. I feel helpless and I never thought I’d experience something like this again. “I don’t know what to do now, Niall. If I lose her, I’ll practically lose everything. But the horrific part of it all is that I get her and I wouldn’t blame her if she decided to let it be.”

Niall just sits there and lets me ramble. We talk until ten in the morning when he offers his guest room to me. I assure him it’s just for a few days – at most.

Those few days pass and when I’m not doing promo for the new album or recording, I try to stay out of Niall’s way as much as possible. I don’t know what I need to do, but I need to come up with something, fast. I’ve been so occupied in my mind that it’s physically paining me.

I walk the streets, and by now I find that I almost have them all completely memorised. I’ve met some new people, found some new bars. But all I could think about is how much Y/n would like this overjoyed fan, or how much she’s like the paintings on the wall on this art-themed café.

I’ve stopped at my front door many times, about to knock, but deciding not to. This day wasn’t any different, although I’ve been standing here for almost an hour now. I lack the courage of knocking, or just entering, and talking to her. I’m afraid – terrified even – she’ll say the things I don’t want to hear.

Just when I had decided to come back another day, hopefully with more courage, or maybe a box of Y/n’s favourite chocolates, I feel my phone vibrating in my coat pocket. A text message from her flashes brightly onto my phone screen.

Meet me in the hallway.

anonymous asked:

Hello love, could you rec me your favourite 8th year fics on ao3?

Hello yourself! YES, I can absolutely do this and honestly I feel like I’ve been waiting for this moment my entire life. I am OBSESSED with 8th year fics and I hope I can recommend at least a few you haven’t read already! :)

*warning*: This is an Extremely Long List. It is in literally no order because I love all of these fics so much it is as if they are my own children and I couldn’t possibly rank them

Unexpected Consequences by Lauren3210 (39K)- Harry was going back to school. He was going to play Quidditch, sleep in lessons, hang out with his friends, and generally just enjoy being a kid for a change. And he was also going to do it while being bonded with Malfoy, because apparently life was just going to continue throwing curveballs at him. Harry didn’t know why he expected anything different.
This is one of the first fics I ever read and I still remember it clearly; it was THAT good! As an alternative to Azkaban, Draco is allowed to attend Hogwarts provided he agrees to a bond with Harry that makes him to do whatever Harry says. Naturally, once the feelings start this causes a lot of worrying and angst and klsfhd it’s just really really good! Also did I mention they share a private room? I know I can’t be the only one who lives for that.

Right Hand Red by lumosed_quill (73K)- Harry felt Malfoy’s breath on his lips as they came together over the bottle, hands firmly planted on the floor as though they each needed their familiar soil, refusing to cross into enemy territory. Except that Malfoy no longer felt like his enemy. Malfoy felt inevitable.
Another of the first ever fics I read (and reread!) and MAN IS IT FUCKING AMAZING. The lust starts right from the beginning and there are *lots* of party games and a secret relationship and sweet moments and teaching of patronus charms and *sigh* I just want to go read it again right now!

Lumos by birdsofshore (41.5K)- Harry never expected to spend eighth year listening to Draco Malfoy wanking.
FABULOUS fic in which they are roommates and then Draco wanks and then Harry wanks and then Draco and Harry wank at the same time, and then there are feelings!! A thousand times yes.

Strange Bathfellows by Bixgirl1 (27.5K)- It started with a bath. Or a potions accident. Or maybe it started before that, but who can tell anymore.Featuring: Uncomfortable wanking, more comfortable wanking, mutual wanking, bath sharing, inappropriate betting, secret shagging, those secrets at Hogwarts that everyone knows, and oblivious Harry who knows one thing: he’s falling in love.
Harry and Draco being forced to share a bath is everything I never knew I needed until I was blessed enough to find this fic. @bixgirl1 has MANY truly ✨FABULOUS✨ eighth year fics (for example Instruction for a Misplaced Slytherin (8.5K) in which Draco teaches Harry about sex and In Evidence of Magical Theory (43.5K), which features forced bonding) and you should definitely read them all, but Strange Bathfellows remains my favorite! :)

Keep reading

A Hundred Lesser Faces: (Five)

Notes from Mod Bonnie

  • This story stems from the premise: what if Voyager!Claire had gone first to Lallybroch instead of directly to the print shop in Edinburgh?

My own Jamie,

Almost six months ago, I learned that you survived Culloden. You made history, my darling! Q.E.D.

As many nights as I’ve lain awake in those months cursing myself for not having looked soonerI know I shall thank God every day of my life for the series of events that led me at last to the right pages, to you. When I fully realized what it meant— that you had been spared the death you faced so bravely that April morning, the death that has haunted my thoughts and my nightmares for so long— It was like a wound, the oldest and deepest scar ripped back open, inch by inch. I was completely laid bare from it, from the storm of emotions warring within me: such joy, such anguish for the lost time (how many more years could we have had, Jamie, had I looked?), such fear—and then joy again, because the years of grief could now be ended, and *against all reason!* I could see you again.  

Likewise will I thank God every day for the small voice in my head that nudged me at the very last moment to go first to Lallybroch, rather than to your shop in Edinburgh. Please thank Jenny for me. She explained everything. 

It is for the best, that it happened this way; easier, I think, for all concerned. Perversely, despite the shock, I find myself smiling in this moment: for we promised there would be no lies between us, remember? It is a promise I make to you again, today. You can know, then, with absolute certainty, that it can be no lie when I tell you that I am glad glad and on-my-knees grateful to Heaven that you have found true happiness. 

After all the pain and the loss, the war and the hunger and the suffering you’ve endured, to know that you have a wife with whom you’ve found something new and wonderful; that you have had the joy of holding your own children in your arms, to have seen them be born and grow? It is a balm, Jamie, a comfort to know that despite all the cruelty fate has dealt you—dealt us— you have been blessed with such great and abundant joy. Never would I wish anything less for you, just as I know you would not for me. 

It is my deepest prayer that as you read these words, you will know the truth of them, will be able to feel my heart through the page, and KNOW that from its very depths, I wish you every happiness with your wife and your daughters. 

And yet I couldn’t leave, couldn’t go back from whence I came, without telling you about another little girl, who was born the 23rd of November the year of Culloden. 

I hope the contents of the brown packet, here enclosed, tell you more than any words could about your daughter—our daughter—Brianna Ellen.

Jamie was shaking—no, he was — crumbling

Every breath wrenched through him, agonizing, and the tears were falling, blurring his vision. He had to sit back on his haunches to keep them from dropping onto the page and blurring her precious words. 

Her words


His hands were quaking with



Jesus, GOD in 


He COULD NOT think

Thoughts, words, they were—

They failed him, simply abandoned him as he shook on the study rug. Only his body seemed to know the way, for he was snatching for the parcel, tearing at the string binding the paper. There was an oily, unidentifiable wrapping within, then a layer of soft flannel, and then —   

The sound that escaped him—He didn’t even know there existed such a sound within him. It was terrible and beautiful at once, and though it was in no language, what he felt, his lips over and over formed a word, the only word he could muster: “No….NO….” 

For as though a great knife had cut through those terrible, looming stones on the accursed hill, Jamie held his infant daughter, newly-born, sleeping there in the palms of his hands. The portrait—picture?—painting?—was all in shades of grey, and yet somehow lifelike as a true bairn in miniature before him, like peering through a spyglass straight into that distant life.

He had not a single thought to spare for how, or by what means…

He could only trace the bitty wee fists curled on the blanket, the sweet wisps of hair on the tiny skull.

“Oh, mo chridhe…” 

He couldn’t look away, could not even blink, though tears were coursing downward. 

God, the child —this very child — 

—delivered safely into the world and into the arms of her mother—her mother.

The babe had lived—LIVED.

The pad of his thumb caught slightly as he caressed her cheek, and the portrait slid upward just enough to reveal — “Ohh…Jesus…”

She was grown to a toddling child, eating a cake that was smeared all about her face. And damn him if he didn’t LAUGH amidst the weeping to see just how pleased with herself she looked for it, a cuddly toy raised in triumph like a sword, four wee teeth visible as she giggled out a victory cry.

There she was again, older, standing in a great snowfall, naught but wee cheeks and grinning eyes visible under the great padded suit she wore against the cold. 

Older, still. Three? Four? Sitting proper-like in a pretty frock with her hair combed smooth. 

Such a sweet face—

Older, still, standing with a wee box in her hand beside a giant something with wheels, proud and eager, eyes bright.

And then he was gasping as the spyglass world ignited into blazing, brilliant colors. He saw his daughter’s hair, red and victorious and shining against the black coat of the huge dog she hugged tight; saw the pink flush of her cheeks, spread down her neck as it always did his, when he was happy and exuberant.

On and on flashed the paintings, these captured moments of his daughter’s life.

Going fishing and doing a damn fine job of it. 

Playing uproariously in the sea-surf, splashing and laughing with complete abandon.

Absolutely lovely as as she grew out of girlhood, and God, how vividly he could see Claire in her, as she did—in the lines of her, the way she held her mouth, tilted her head—that broad, clear brow that begged to be kissed, reverently—

Laughing, carefree, safe

Braw and strong as she chopped wood. Good lass!

Gazing softly out a window, seeming not even to notice her image being captured. 


and on

and on 

until he was gasping and looking at the last portrait, of an achingly beautiful young woman sitting on a rock before a fire, making camp for the night, perhaps. Her face was cast in the same golds and red as her hair; the dreams of her heart seeming to dance across her eyes—as they always did her mother’s. His daughter…grown.  

The paintings were strewn all around him on the carpet, a tableau of her; her life. On his knees he bowed over them, overwhelmed and shuddering with great sobs as he looked, and looked, and looked.

She was—

She would be

…..she was well.  

The child HAD been safe.

It hadn’t been for naught. 

He fell, then, and sheltered her like a cloak, keeping his child, his daughter, safe and shielded from the world for just one moment; safe…his….


It was only sudden, ripping, screaming panic that yanked him out of the quiet calm, searching wildly, fumbling with desperate hands—

But relief tore from his throat just as suddenly as he found a second page: 

Not everything can be captured in a photograph, of course (that’s what they’re called. Did I ever tell you about them?), and there’s so much I long to tell you about this wonderful person.

Will you believe she’s been taller than me since the age of thirteen? She carries it like a queen, though, like I imagine your mother did. She doesn’t slouch or try to hide. Not Bree. 

Oh, yes: most people call her Bree, for short. 

She bites her nails, when she’s thinking hard. I don’t even think she notices when she’s doing it.

She’s absolutely brilliant, Jamie, studying at one of the top universities in the world to be a historian. You would be so very proud of her. 

She’s not perfect, of course. Perhaps her biggest flaw as half-Scottish is that she HATES whisky, haha. I’ll do my best to win her over, though, don’t you worry. 

She’s a spectacular artist, another way in which she takes after her grandmother. She captures you, completely. 

That statement, actually, is true in more ways than one. Our Brianna is captivating, in every way. 

She’s an absolute wonder with maths and figures —as natural to her as breathing, it seems, just like they are for you. 

She smiles in her sleep, just like her father. 

She’s so like you, Jamie, it breaks my heart. 

After Frank died—But Lord, I haven’t said anything of him. 

It was two years ago. He had a good, full life, and he loved Bree more than anything in the world. He could have been cruel, could have taken out his anger upon the child, the very breathing manifestation of the ways in which I’d betrayed him—but he didn’t. From the moment he first held her, Frank loved her as his own, and while things between he and I were tenuous, to say the least, I will always love him for the father he was to her, for the sacrifices he made for her. I hope that is a comfort to you, and not a blow. 

After he was gone, after giving her time to grieve, it felt important that Bree should know about you, about the stones. It took—well, it frankly took a bloody lot of luck and a jolly good miracle to get her to believe, *but she does.* She loved Frank with all her heart, but she knows now that Jamie Fraser was her father. IS her father. 

You should know that she was instrumental in finding you. She persisted when I would have faltered under the doubts and the fears. As ecstatic and overjoyed as I was at the news that you were alive, I was so afraid Jamie, for you, for me, for Bree. 

Even though I know she, too, was plagued with fears, she remained strong; and she kept ME strong. Even at the very stones, when I was so wracked with guilt over leaving her forever that I would have stayed, for her sake, she was there to strengthen me, to tell me not to look back. She said that she was giving me back to you, and that if I didn’t go, *she* would. ‘Someone has to find him and tell him I was born,’ she said, and she meant it. 

THAT is the kind of person your daughter is growing to be, Jamie: determined, and brilliant, and selfless for the sake of those she loves; *and that includes you.* She asked me to give you a kiss, just from her. I’ve left it here, on the page, for you to keep, always. 

Brianna has been the greatest joy of my life since we parted, a joy that would have been richer only if I had been granted the grace to raise her with you at my side. Thank you for her. THANK YOU for making me go on, for her sake. Despite everything, it has been a good life. Even in those long years of grief, I had the joy of seeing you every day, of seeing your spirit, there in the child of our love. And I’m so very grateful. 

I’ll keep telling her about you. There wasn’t enough time, before I left. She’ll be able hear everything, now. I promise. 

Jamie shook his head hard, fast, feeling for a third page that wasn’t there. “No…” 

Be happy, Jamie Fraser, and LIVE. 

“No,” he moaned. his eyes clinging to the fleeting words, even as he begged them not to stop. “Claire…”

Love, always

“Mo nighean donn, don’t —  


Those next seconds were everlasting, each terrible, catastrophic truth echoing in his soul like the toll of a great bell, over and over. 

She had been here

Claire had been here

She left

Claire left

Because Jenny—

She was sitting at the bottom of the staircase, crying hard into Ian’s shoulder. When the study door crashed open, her head shot up and she jumped to her feet, her face pure terror. “Jamie, mo ch—”

“When?” He snarled it, and Jenny convulsed with a deep sob like a swallowed scream, and covered her face with her hands. 

Jamie was thundering toward her, a veil of red over his vision as he demanded, “WHEN?” 

Ian—in a shockingly deft and smooth movement given the leg—shot to his feet, shielding Jenny from Jamie’s rage with his body. 

In all truth, the rational parts of Jamie’s mind were glad for Ian’s presence, for that was the only thing keeping the blood rage from taking control, from taking revenge. “WHEN was she here, woman?” he bellowed over Ian’s shoulder,  “How fucking long did ye see fit to keep—”

Ian shoved him, eyes blazing. “You’ll NOT talk that way to—” 

Mor—ning—”Jenny sobbed, her voice a strangled whisper, “—gone before—Jamie! Oh, JamieI ken I’ll—never for—give mys—for—” 

HOW MANY MONTHS?”  he roared, overtaken by despair, overtaken by rage, becoming a nameless beast under it. “HOW MANY YEARS, JENNY?” 

“This morning—” she wailed, “To—TO—DAY—” 



And then a great wave, tall as a mountain, rose up within Jamie, blasting out everything within him in a single cataclysmic moment of clarity. 



Then she was—

She could be no more than—

He vaulted up the stairs four at a time, paying no heed to Janet and Wee Ian and the others who were gathered at the top of the staircase, wide-eyed and pale and gaping.

Less than a minute later, he thundered back down past them all, breeks only half-laced under his boots, traveling bag on his back. 

“No,” Jenny moaned, grasping at his sleeve as he passed and trying to hold him back. “Jamie, ye canna—Ye CANNA catch her, she's—GONE—she’s—”

He shook her off, hard enough to knock her off-balance, and ran to the kitchen, shoving what food he could lay his hands on into his sack and moving straight to the door, so crazed with determination he could barely see what it was he took. Food didn’t matter. Fatigue, already tugging at him, didn’t matter. Claire was— 

“Jamie, she’s nearly a day ahead—” Jenny caught the handle just as he did, eyes absolutely wild. “Ye dinna even ken where she’s bound or—” 

He spared his sister one look, and let all the hate and contempt, the rage and the betrayal show there as he growled, “I ken precisely where she’s bound.” 

A Case of Hives

My ex-wife, Janie, died. I was happy to see her go.

I regained custody of our beautiful son, Barry. He’s four years old. For the last two years, I’d been out of his life. Janie kept him away from me. God only knows what poison she filled his head with; all her hatred of me spilling out of her lying mouth to make Barry despise his old man. But all that’s over now. He’s mine again. And he’ll love me soon enough.

It was clear she’d said some terrible things to influence his perception of me. “Daddy’s bad,” Barry informed me one night. Tears filled my eyes and I clutched my son to my chest and whispered, “your Daddy is a good man, Barry. Your Daddy will take care of you.”

I meant it, although I hated him when he squirmed to get away. He was afraid of me. His mother’s poison still coursed through his veins.

In early April, Barry seemed under the weather. I checked him out. He’d developed hives. I was overjoyed. This would be my opportunity to redeem myself with him. Once he saw how well I could take care of him, he’d love me again. I thought back to his tiny hand clutching my finger moments after he was born. He’d loved me from the start. Then Janie ripped it out of him. I seethed.

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the boy who was like an older brother to me,
got mad at the world and left home.
now he lives with his girlfriend,
and it’s just the two of them. alone.

a singer i used to know, 
who sang out songs built with pride,
just passed away.
he committed suicide.

the church I grew up in,
is growing smaller and smaller.
we sit in neat little rows,
as we watch the stacks of bills grow taller.

my friend told me her parents fight,
shouts echo off her walls every night.
there’s no way they are the same people,
that would be overjoyed when I would spend the night.

i’m beginning to see,
that growing up isn’t all about,
bills and houses and money.
a lot of it is revealed to be,
watching people change, leave, and go,
and wondering what happened to everything around me. 

growing up, i’ve grown to know,
is about feeling like a stranger,
in the places you used to call home.
it’s seeing people for who they really are,
broken and bruised,
always following the dark side of their heart.

the people who always told me
to never behave this way,
have abandoned those truths and did it anyway.
things they warned me to avoid,
have overcome their minds,
shaking their beliefs like too much noise.
convinced hope is something they cannot find.

Christmas Eve

Pairing: Philip Hamilton x reader
Word Count: 1,561ish
T/W: Legit fluff
A/N: For @justfangirlingaround’s request: “college Philip ~can you one where they’re both starting college and they accidentally bump into each other and they fall for each other at first sight and then he asks the reader to a date where he’s acting all cute stutters, awkward & sweet?~~Or they’re in Christmas break and they’re stay at the college(idk if that’s possible irl😂)and they sleep in the same dorm celebrating Christmas together with movies, cuddles and a ring?” 
Mmmm, Yes! I did the second one, I know Christmas in July ♡
Tags: @justfangirlingaround​ ✨

“Have fun, be safe, call me when you get there!” you told your friend Theo in a motherly tone. 

“I will be fine,” she tilted her head, “will you? The weather is supposed to get pretty crazy. Thank God the apartment is on campus so you won’t have to go anywhere for food or anything.”

“Y-yeah, I’ll be okay,” you rubbed the side of your arm, “if i get too anxious, I’m sure I can find someone to room with me-”

You stopped mid sentence, looking over to a group of guys saying bye for the holiday. You bit your lip, specifically seeing Philip. Even though he was and had been your boyfriend for sometime now, you still got butterflies when you saw him, it reminded you of when you were in high school, the way he would glance at you from across the room. Theo looked between the two of you for a moment. 

“Why don’t you ask him?” Theo suggested. 

“Wh-what?” you looked back to her, “Ask him what?”

“If he’ll stay with you at the apartment,” she said, rolling her eyes. 

“You- you’d be okay with that?” a smile appeared on your face. 

“Of course!…Just don’t have sex on my bed-”

“Theo!” you squeaked, beginning to blush.

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Why I feel raising awareness is important and why I appreciate the existence of a community

I am from an earlier generation than the majority of tumblr, so I wanted to share some of my experiences as an asexual and the reason why I’m so grateful that blogs like yours exist today.

Like many people in my environment I was brought up to believe that being perceived as desirable and/or marriage material is a strong criterion for defining my worth as a person. Even now, much later, this is hard to shake off.

Being of a curious nature and assured that romantic love is the thing to aspire to, I developed a fascination and curiosity about it. Later I would realise that my perception of the subject was not shared by my peers. The connection, the fascination between two (or more) people that I perceived as “romantic” was nowhere near what my friends were interested in. On one side, this was very pleasing to my very conservative family, on the other side, my lack of interest for the “hunt” was considered weird by my schoolmates.  

I had no label for it. There was no name and no community because the internet and all its possibilities and social networks were yet to come. I thought I was a “late bloomer”. The problem with this was - I felt it put me somewhere behind my peers. Like they were all in a club I was not allowed to join and it was the only existing club. Like they were developing into “proper people” faster than me.  I couldn’t have that. So I pretended to be interested in people in the same way as they were. Because, surely, it was only a matter of time until my slow self would also become “right”. As an avid reader and researcher I had no trouble finding the proper language to appear on the same level or even further “in the game” than my peers. My sexual persona was sufficiently convincing and as the years went by, the lie became so comfortable I almost forgot I was lying. An “I’m currently not looking for a relationship” here, a “yes, there was someone, but it was nothing serious” there, or implying I’m in unrequited love did the trick. Some of you might know the insistent nature of questions about marriage and relationships you start getting at a certain point.

I accumulated some experience with flirting, kissing, role play and various kinks that, in theory, seemed interesting, to give my constructs more credibility and substance. I read more erotic literature than anyone in my social circle and tried to recreate the feelings the various authors were describing. I tried to be heterosexual, homosexual, pansexual…anything. I overanalysed my gender identity and even tried tantric meditation courses to “awaken my sexual energy”. There was always the hope, that this time I would feel the spark everyone was talking about, this time I wouldn’t be “wrong”.

You would have been tested to find anyone more involved in or better informed about anything concerning sex than myself back in those days. I was an asexual obsessed with sex! What a waste of energy this must look like to everyone! It wasn’t entirely bad, though. Some areas focused heavily on psychological interaction and deep trust, rather than physical stimulation. Those were nice to discover.

As my time at university progressed, the latent anxiety about my “wrongness”  grew. It got worse every time I, for lack of a better term, fell in love with someone. For me it meant intensely craving regular interpersonal exchange, making them understand they were special, beautiful, luminous and incredibly precious to me, maybe kissing and certainly hugging, nuzzling and snuggling the living daylights out of them! And yet…I could never truly approach them, because what could I offer?? The eventual goal for anyone would be a “rich and healthy sex life” and despite all my theoretical knowledge, me deriving no pleasure whatsoever in the actual deed would have put a damper on the whole thing. Even the idea of actually doing the things I knew I was expected to do filled me with dread. So I was left heartbroken and convinced that, really, I had no right to feel heartbroken.

I was never afraid of ending up alone. Being alone was fine, even pleasant! My fear only centred on what I thought of as my “disability” being found out. And that was never going to happen, was it?

It was. You can imagine how it went - I met a person, we became close friends and were compatible on a level that I’d never experienced before. And the perk - they were in a romantic/sexual relationship. So no danger for me, right? Wrong. I found out that being asexual does not stop you from wanting emotional commitment. And here my true agony began. I desired something while not being able to give anything worthwhile in return.  This is how I perceived it. Any story I knew that featured a person unable to give their partner sexual pleasure claimed they “had it coming” when they were cheated on, dumped or ended up living in a broken relationship (or, of course, finally finding Mr./Ms. Right to cure them). I didn’t want that for the person I cared for or for myself.

I won’t bore you with the details. I started distancing myself. My beloved wouldn’t have that. Their relationship was terminated and I got a declaration of love I was overjoyed to hear. Would I try to make the one I adored happy? Of course I would. Alas, at some point the “wrongness” had to be addressed. Although I trusted this person very much, I was prepared to being laughed at or told I was repressed, damaged or insufficient. Instead I got understanding and the promise that whatever physical contact I was comfortable with would be enough. I was too shocked to process it at the moment. I was always worried that it was just pity speaking, or the expectation that eventually I would “come around”. This worry haunted me. I couldn’t believe anyone could possibly tolerate an “incomplete” relationship. My instincts pushed me towards withdrawal and keeping silent, letting us drift apart as friends. Again, I found an unexpected patience combined with a fierce insistence on making it work. Sentences like “With you I found a greater intimacy then physical contact could ever give me” and “I want to be a part of your life, and I want this relationship more than anything” along with many “I love you"s  made me come out of my shell again. There was even some joking about it - "In the near future I’ll be too old for that kind of thing anyway, so don’t worry”. I can’t describe the amount of understanding and love I got in this relationship.

Still, it was constantly on my mind that I was unable to fulfil an important task. My partner seemed reasonably happy, though. So happy, in fact, that the “issue” was no issue at all and in a conversation with a close friend who was devastated about not being able to get “a normal relationship” my partner’s tongue slipped - “What’s a ‘normal’ relationship even supposed to be?? There are no rules for happiness! Look at us! We’re not having sex and we’re still very happy!” When I found out about it, the shame crushed me. I was unable to do something so basic! I was “wrong”! Not one of the “proper people”! And now an outsider knew about it! The thing I spent a big part of my life covering up! All my effort now seemed pointless. I felt incredibly betrayed and devastated. I asked for distance and said I needed a break until I gathered myself.

This may seem ridiculous and you might say - “There’s nothing wrong with being who you are! Own up to it! Just be yourself!"  And, of course, you are right. And this mentality is more recent than you might think. I spent many years of my life in an environment where "be yourself” was little more than a pretty phrase from movies about teenagers who went through a makeover to become more attractive for their love interest. “Being yourself” just meant adapting to the environment, or at least covering up your “insufficiencies”. And this is hard to shake off. Even today I struggle with it.

The story has a happy continuation, though. My partner was devastated about the mistake and tearfully apologised countless times and again - understood why I was upset. There was no judging, no “get over it already” or anything like that. And that’s what made me realise (after I had some time to gather myself) that what we have is more important to me than hanging on to my carefully crafted mask.

We are still together and as happy as any couple could ever be. We have loads of fun and grow together as people. In case it matters to anyone - I’m a woman, my partner is a man.

I am so grateful that blogs like yours exist and that you are raising awareness and giving a community to people who are going through the same things I was going through, showing them they are “proper people” and “right”. With the onslaught of sexual expectation thrown at people every day it’s easy to lose oneself if what you are is deemed “inexistent”. The community gave me a new term to describe “the wrongness” and for that I’m truly grateful.

anonymous asked:

If you could re-write the ending of A:TLA, how would you approach canon Zutara? How would you resolve Aang's infatuation with Katara and the subsequent romance between Katara and Zuko?

Zuko and Katara’s relationship honestly does not need that much help to be canon. The build-up is all right there in the show, and it’s very well paced. And actually, when you think about it, the build-up for a Kαtααng break-up is also right there in the show. It would take such minor tweaking to make this whole thing work.

There is a prime opportunity for Kαtααng to start breaking up at the end of Season 2. When Aang realizes he is too attached to Katara and has to let her go, that can be the beginning of him realizing his attraction to her is too self-centered. For example, in “The Awakening,” he could apologize for abandoning Katara when she and Hakoda were having issues of their own. Then in “The Headband,” after Katara kisses him on the cheek, we get Aang’s happy reaction shot as always…but then a moment of doubt as she starts putting away the bundle of clothes that allowed her to pass herself off as his mother. In “The Avatar and the Firelord,” instead of Roku saying things like “I was persistent” and “being the Avatar doesn’t hurt your chances with the ladies,” he could emphasize how Ta Min and he didn’t get along at first, but became a perfect match due to the way they balanced each other. (Hey, here’s a thought: instead of Roku’s male earthbending teacher Sud, whose model is based on the original boy!Toph, why couldn’t we have his eartbending teacher be a lady, perhaps foreshadowing Taang? By combining Sud and Ta Min, it would also show the difference between a divided world with four separate nations and the more unified world of the past.)

“The Runaway” would then come at the perfect time for Aang to get a full dose of Katara being motherly toward him. Next comes “Nightmares and Daydreams” two episodes later. I have previously demonstrated how Katara provided emotional support for Aang in a whopping nine scenes in that one episode, and instead of a purely happy ending where Aang gets to sleep, we could show him sound asleep and Katara purely exhausted from all the work she’s been doing to help him. 

During the “Day of Black Sun,” Katara didn’t get a lot of development compared to Aang and Zuko. So I would take advantage of her “healing Hakoda” subplot a little more. Emphasize that she has drained herself so much taking care of Aang that she is finding it difficult to help out when she is needed the most. Maybe she would have to fight and heal if they ran into some trouble, and she might think she is handling it, but then can’t slice open enough airships at the end to keep the adults out of prison. We would still get the Kαtααng kiss in Part 1 with Katara’s ambivalent reaction, which would lead nicely into…

“The Western Air Temple.” After the invasion fails, Aang reverts to his Season 1 self, and starts flying off again when Katara needs him. This wouldn’t need to be touched upon–it just emphasizes the running theme throughout Season 3. Everything else can pretty much stay the same until “The Southern Raiders.” Now this episode is one that I would have liked to see Elizabeth Ehasz’s original script for, before Bryke felt so threatened by the Zutara relationship that they tried to have her write Zutara as worse than it was originally conceived. (They pretty much failed anyway, but still, she should have just been given free reign on the project.) Maybe Katara could promise to help Zuko find his own mother after the war? That would be a sweet bookend, foreshadowing a furtherance to their relationship.

After “Southern Raiders” comes “Ember Island Players,” and I would have had the episode opening with Katara and Sokka spending some quality time together, maybe Katara taking Sokka shopping instead of Suki to make up for her “you didn’t love her the way I did” remark. She could ask Sokka some pointed questions about his relationship with Suki, which would not only give Sukka more development, but also lead Sokka to wonder if there is someone she is thinking about dating. It also leads to some worry on this part, because the kinds of questions she’s asking are all about what’s good for the person she might be interested in, rather than what works for her. Cue Aang’s tirade and the “unexpected” kiss, and Katara refusing to talk to him after.

Then we have the part in the finale where Aang storms off, again, never to be seen until after Ozai is defeated. I think this makes Aang look pretty bad, actually, added to the fact that he never even thinks that his friends might be worried about him. I would have him send Momo away, not right before the battle, but after he wakes up on the island, in order to deliver a letter to the GAang (he could snatch up the baby Ozai scroll in his rage and then have it with him on the island to further his moral dilemma, then ultimately send it back to the GAang). It wouldn’t reveal Aang’s location, so the GAang would still have to track him down, but it would explain that there is something he has to do before the Firelord is defeated. It would also tell Katara that he is sorry and has to respect her wishes–a parallel of Zuko’s breakup letter to Mai. Aang and Katara both realize that they can’t put each other’s wellbeing over the wellbeing of the world, or their own wellbeing, respectively, and being attached to each other that way is a mistake. 

“Sozin’s Comet” is full of Zutara moments–Zuko putting a hand on Katara’s shoulder to calm her down after Aang runs off, Katara encouraging Zuko to join in the group hugs, Zuko choosing Katara to fight by his side, Katara encouraging him when he is worried about his uncle’s forgiveness, Zuko taking the lightning bolt for Katara, etc. etc. It really needs very little work in that direction. One thing I would change is the final dialogue between Zuko and Iroh, where Iroh instead promises to support Zuko and be at his side as Firelord–provided he gets his own tea shop! (And when Katara says, “Good luck, General Iroh!”, Iroh could reply with “Good luck, everyone,” then with a meaningful look at Katara, “and thank you,” showing that he knows she helped Zuko get up the courage to apologize to his uncle.)

I would have the ending Mαiko scene take a different path, with Zuko overjoyed to see Mai alive and thanking her for the sacrifice she made for him, and her replying, “Yeah. That’s just it, Zuko. I made the sacrifice for you, but not for myself. This whole time, I haven’t thought much about what I really want from life.” She looks around at the walls of the palace. “All I know is that I just escaped from prison, and going right back into the one that trapped me as a child is not going to happen.” Then she pauses. “When you knew Azula was going to take me down, you didn’t go back for me.” She holds up a hand as Zuko starts to apologize. “It’s not your fault–I saw the people with you. You were choosing your new life over your old one.” She looks at the scar on Zuko’s chest. “You still are. And now I have to do the same.” She kisses him good-bye and says she’ll see him again, and when he asks how, she’ll just give a secretive smile–and pull out a throwing star shaped like a White Lotus when no one is looking. 

During Zuko’s coronation, I would have Katara smile at both of them, not just Aang. Instead of that teaser scene with Zuko sounding more like his Season 1 self during his Ozai questioning, I would have cut that scene and left more time for the end GAang reunion. We could see Aang and his new self-confidence being more capable of keeping up with Toph, and then a scene where Zuko awkwardly comes up to Katara, rubbing the back of his neck, and asking whether the offer to help find his mother is still open. She says yes, and just presses her lips to his for a tiny moment–not a sweeping romantic kiss, but a promise of things to come.  Then when they are all together, I would bring the GAang out in order of appearance–Sokka and Katara, then Aang (keeping the Aang and Katara hug), then Zuko, Suki, and Toph. And why a sunset, I wonder? Maybe it could be a sunrise instead–them watching a new dawn together.

dannnyangy  asked:


OMG yes hi dear! Of course I remember you! I’m so glad to hear from you again! I’m so overjoyed for you!!! First of all, I would like to say I’m unbelievably proud of you. You’ve found out how to be true to yourself and accept who you are and to not think but feel and follow your heart. That alone is amazing!! But then you also came out to your friend too, so wow that’s another brave step you took! AND TO FIND OUT SHE HAD A CRUSH ON YOU THIS WHOLE TIME!! Wowowow
I can’t handle this I’m so glad everything worked out ❤️✨❤️✨❤️
Thanks for sharing and making my day! My heart is full of happiness, I wish the best for you cuties!!

Loki’s Wife - Chapter 2

Words- 2788 

Warnings- FLUFF - Some Smut - Loki cuteness but also Loki being a big but.

The second chapter of Loki’s Wife.

The gist of the story is Loki is the King of Asgard, Y/N  is a warrior in the Asgard army gets horribly scared on a mission. 

Loki and Y/N announce their engagement but then Loki becomes a jerk and thus cause their first fight. Kinda ends in a cliff hanger - BUT I have chapter 3 ready to roll!

If you missed the first chapter read it here! https://asgardslittlewriter.tumblr.com/post/164574062750/lokis-wife-chapter-1

Loki kisses me lightly and I stir awake.

“Loki?” I question him the dusk light creating through the window. He smiles down at me with my favorite Loki grin he gives me.

“I’m sorry my beloved I didn’t mean to bother you, I wanted to leave before others wake to find you.” Loki brush a few flyaway hairs from my face I flinch away, for two seconds I had forgotten my new face. I shake my head and turn away. The new days light surely must make it more gruesome than the dark nights light did. Loki drops his hand. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have.” Loki whispers and my eyes water.

 I know it is silly for me to be so broken up about my face but I had always thought myself pretty and now …. Now I feel so ugly.  “Stand before your King.” Loki demands it tone I dare not trifle with. I clumsily stand up and out of bed. I dare not to look up at him. “You are to rise from this room and come back to your life.  No more moping. You must adjust to this… setback. Come out with your head held high, your are to be my queen you need to act like it.” Loki says almost threatening. I sniffle and nod looking at my bear feet. “Look at your King when He speaks.” Loki commands and look up and is smiling.

“Yes Master.” I say and his pupils dilate.

“My name is only Master when I am taking you.  Understand?” Loki says horsley. I bite my bottom lip at the idea.

“Yes Master.” I smile up at him and like a hunter its prey and pounces on my lips. His assault while passionate what brief. He pulls away and leans his head on mine. His breath quickens.

“You be careful with you words my pet, They bring out sides of me that have little control.” Loki breaths. He steps away and I frown. He smiles at me. “Now my beloved get dressed and be ready to have breakfast with the family. We shall announce our engagement then.” Loki kisses me tenderly and winks down at me.

“ Yes my king.” I say and Loki walks out of my room with a smirk on his face. My fickle man. I huff and get dressed the idea of everyone see me for the first time is nerve racking but with Loki by my side I may be able to bear it.

I put on my armor , typical for a weekday here in Asgard, even though I was on a medical leave I still put it on. My armor was simple, unlike others, I put on my black leather pants that have green stitching & a light gold white shirt and black an green vest. I always dressed in Loki’s colors as my seceret way of claiming him as mine. I sling my holster and sword into place and attach my whip who I call ‘Emendel’ to my waist. I pin my hair up into a braided updo. I slip my knee high boot on and lace them up tight. I felt normal for the first time since the incident. I look over myself in the mirror, I would have to do. I wasn’t like the other noble women, I wasn’t a bright shiny happy girl. I was ‘dark and twisty’ as one princess had called me at a ball I had once attended with Loki.

Right as I put my hand on the doorknob a swift knock comes. I pull the door open and Loki is standing in front of me. He was in his gear as well. He had on a black shirt that was tight to his body, and he had on his black woven leather vest. The green and gold accents fit his personality. I looked up at his face, He raven black hair was brushed back in his normal fashion. He had his just for Y/N smile on that melted my heart.

“Hello my beloved, how are you this morning.” I smile like a fool to my soon to be husband.

“I am overjoyed.” I smirk and Loki’s mouth quirks up.

“Would last night have anything to do with it?”  Loki asks and I giggle up at him.  

“All of it would have to do with last night. Unless you’d like to take it back.” I say look down completely worried. Loki chuckles and tips my chins up. I don’t dare to meet his eyes.

“You are not getting away from me now, You are mine. Mine.” Loki says dominantly.  

“Yours.” I say and loki grins. He kisses me roughly. I assume the idea of me being with someone else angered him. We hear loud footsteps trot down the hall and Loki pulls away from me. I see a flash of annoyance run through him. I bite my lip in frustration. This man was going to be the death of me.  Thor come towards us. I look up at my King, and he is looking down at me his pupils are almost completely back with lust. We both do our best to hide our emotions from Thor as he comes closer to us.

“If you don’t take me soon Master may implode.” I whisper to him just to be a tease.

“Soon my Pet.” Loki growls in my ear. I giggle like a young girl. Thor comes up to us with a hearty smile.

“Lady Y/N ! You look radiant today!” Thor bellows. Loki tenses.

“Thor! Hello, how are you?” I question and he smiles and touches my arm.

“Better now that I see you up and about! You are very valiant.” Thor says and hugs me tightly. Loki coughs and Thor let me go but he keeps one hand on my shoulder.

“Brother, what are you doing at Lady Y/N ’s quarter so early?” Loki asks angered.

“Oh I just came to check up on her. I feel responsible for that accident and felt it be my need to cheer  her up.” Thor says and looks down at me. He is huge, He towers over me in height and strength. He is in his normal Red and silver gear. His long blonde hair is ruffled and tossed, untamed with last night’s sleep he had.

“Hmm I see.” Is all Loki says, I can tell  he doesn’t like Thor’s arm that is still around me.

“Lady Y/N will you accompany me to breakfast, I have miss you dearly. I cannot wait to join in battle once more with my best friend by my side..” Thor says and I smirk up at my partner in crime.

“I as well Thor, soon once these stitches pop out I will be with you in the front lines once more.” I say and he chuckles deeply.

“Brother.” Loki abrupts. We both turn to look at my dark haired beauty. “I was actually hoping to have a moment alone with Lady Y/N before Breakfast would you mind?” Loki questions his older brother. Thors brows furrow but he nods in agreement.

“Of course Brother. Lady Y/N , I will see you see you at the table.” Thor smiles and trots off back down the hall he had came from. Loki waits until Thor rounds the corner before push me back into my bedroom and locking the door.

“You are mine.” Loki seeths and I look up at him.  “You are not let any man touch you. You understand? You are my woman.”  Loki holds me tight.

“Yes my King.” I sputter. “I’m sorry.” I say and his anger stifles. “Forgive me King.” I say and he breath out.

“You are forgiven my love.” Loki says and kisses me softly.  “Soon he will know you are mine, and mine alone. The crush he has will  have to fade away.” Loki says and looks at me and I chuckle at the ridiculous thought.

“Crush? Oh Loki no. Thor loves the Midgard Jane. He is my best friend and nothing more.” I say and Loki scuffs.

“He has always had a soft spot for you my naive love.” Loki breath deep.

“Only as my friend and partner.” I say and Loki Stiffens

“Hmm,” Loki says deep in thought. I cup his cheeks and lightly kiss him.

“Come my king, he is nothing to me, only you, let us announce our love and rejoice.” I say and Loki nods.

We enter into the dining hall. Loki’s mother Sits in the middle and Thor sits on her side. The table is full of people, all close family and friends. They look up when we enter. Loki struts to the head of the table and I follow him and sit at his right side.

“Good Morning Family.” He coos and everyone welcome Loki warmly but they stare at my face. It is shocking, I knew people would stare but it still hurt me. Loki’s mother walks around the table to me. Frigga looks at me with kind eyes mixed with pity.

“Lady Y/N , you poor thing, I had heard about your wound. I tried to see you but your guards wouldn’t like me on to your chambers. I hope you are well.” Frigg say to me  and cups my hands tenderly. I smile weakly.

“I am sorry Frigga, I needed time to process alone. I am very well indeed. Thank you for asking.”  I say and smiles and hugs me tight.  She turns to her son Loki and hugs him.

“Mother so glad you came to breakfast.” Loki says and smiles at her.

“Brother what is you wished to tell us? We are all at a lost.” Loki’s younger brother Baldr asks.

“Well I would - Or we, I suppose I should say- Y/N  I are engaged as of last night. She has agreed to be my wife.” Loki says with a smile that I doubt most of them have never seen on my solemn man before.

“Loki!” Frigga squeaks. All the people in the room  mutter and happy tones. All come to congratulate us. Loki finally able to hold my hand in public grabs it and smiles proudly at me.

“Lady Y/N , I had no idea you felt this way towards my brother.” Thor say and comes around to us.

“I have loved Loki from the first day I stepped into the castle of Asgard as a young girl.” I blush and Thor chuckles and pat the back of his brother.

“She is a noble women with great skill. You are a lucky man,” Thor thunders.

“That I am Brother.” Loki smiles tightly.

After breakfast Loki, Thor and I were the only ones left laughing away like normal when we were all together. Loki held my hand and Thor eyed us a few times but nothing that made me uncomfortable.

“Lady Y/N  will I see you in the armory today? You battle equipment could use some attention, like mine. We must never let our blade dull.” Thor say to me and I smile.

“Yes Thor, I should like to clean my things I am eager to get back to work as I said before.” I state and Loki tenses.

“Good, I need my partner soon  we have many things to attend to.” Thor says .

“You cannot keep me from battle.” I laugh and Thor chuckles but Loki remains quite.

“Thor would you excuse us I would like to walk with Y/N before I return to my duties.” Loki says and pull me out of my chair.  

“Yes Brother, Congratulations again. Lady Y/N see you later.” Thor wave to us and we walk out of the dining hall. We walk in heavy silence back to my chambers. Loki was deep in thought. We enter my room. I knew he had something brewing in his mind.

“Loki What is on your mind I should like to get to work soon, I am eager to get back.” I say and smile.

“Yes you ought to enjoy it while you can I suppose.” Loki say and my smile drops.

“What do you mean My King.” I say tightly, Loki moves away to the window. Perhaps afraid to be near me.

“You will not longer be in the army once we are married.” Loki says shorty as if it were common knowledge. I raise my eyebrow and huff with anger.

“WHAT! Loki No.” I growl and he turns to me his face set like stone.

“You will be Queen you cannot fight. You would the main target every time.” Loki says and roll my eyes.

“Let it be so, I would die happily for my King and people.” I say and Loki turns swiftly and angrily.

“Don’t talk about such things. You will not. I won’t allow it.” Loki says and I square my shoulder in anger.

“Loki I must fight I am the best next to Thor, you would cripple our army.” I say and he  shakes his head.

“I have spoken and you will obey your King and future husband.” Loki says and I growl a sound he has only heard in battle from me.

“You cannot do this to me Loki, As you Severant of Asgard you have to let me do my job.” I say through grit teeth. Loki paces.

“You are going to be a wife, you can no longer work for you country but you must take care of me, your man, your king. That is your job now.” Loki shrugs and I shake with rage.

“It is as if you do not know me. War runs through these veins. I must do what I can to protect my home. You can’t fight as king you are way to important but me, I can I do good. Please Loki, my king do not strip me of my title.” I say and Loki looks at me standing across the room.

“I have spoken. You will obey my commands. Look what happened to you, Next time we may not be so lucky.” Loki says with a hint of softness as he gestures to the gash that rips my face apart.. I huff and turn on my heel to the door.  “Where do you think your going?” Loki says and walks up behind me. I place my hand on the knob.

“Out.” I seeth and Loki snarls.

“You will stay and rest. You are still on medical leave” Loki say to me.

“Is that a command?” I tilt my head and he breathed  out loudly, as we stand at an impasse in our relationship.

“Does it have to be?” Loki questions and I open the door.

“No, I shall leave anyways -  My King.” I curtesy out the door and slam it in his face.

I run to the medical wing and visit our healers. They bow to me as soon queen of asgard  but just shake my head.

“Please remove these stitches, I am returning to work and need them out to see.” I say coldly. A healer woman comes to me and takes me to a seat.

“Yes milady.” SHe says with a gentle voice. She works with soft hands and heals what she can with her powers. I felt better than before but that could be the rush of adrenalin from my anger doing that. The sight in my right eye was slightly regained. “Lady Y/N please be careful, Though you have healed quickly you scar my open again with too much strain.” SHe warns. I nod and thank her.

I run to the the armory where Thor was sitting. “Let us ride out and find trouble!  I am in the need of some battle” I seeth. Thor hesitates.

“Are you aloud to go out? Will Loki be ok with this?” Thor questions and I huff.

“Who cares, I thought you liked dis obeying your brother.” I quirk up my eyebrow teasingly. Thor grins.

“Who? I Thor? I love it.” Thor laughs and hands me my armored vest.

“Let us ride dear friend” I was with a smile. He nods and we run to the stables. I grab my horse and settle into my saddle. Thor jump onto his horse and we look at one another excited to help our friends in war. Loki brust thought the stable door seething. He looks at me. He takes in my full gear and helmet with knowing eyes.

“Y/N.” He says as a warning. “Don’t!” he commands, but I roll my eyes.

“Ride Brother Thor.” I call and Thor Grins and gallops away. “I am sorry love.” I say to Loki as I leave him standing in the doorway, fuming mad as I chase after Thor.

the bright sessions is 1) a good podcast 2) driving home for me how much i like primarily character driven stories

like, there’s sometimes violent conflict in the bright sessions, there are superpowers and morally dubious government organizations, but the plot is really directly driven by how the characters feel about and react to things. and it has an almost fan-fictionish willingness to linger on… you know… scenes of characters discussing (or very determinedly not discussing) how they feel.

(compare wolf 359, which i love, which has character relationships i love, and which is a great story in itself, but in which MOST of the dialogue at any given moment is focused on the problems at hand. and it’s not like that’s BAD, and obviously there is a balance within any given story, but if more TV shows etc. leaned more bright sessions i would be so overjoyed.)

BTS reaction - their GF being a teen mom from a previous relationship

A/N This is based on them finding out their girlfriend had a child as a teen. Past tense…A legal adult now… Okay, that’s all.


He would understand why you waited to tell him. Depending on if you kept the child, he would want to meet them. He wouldn’t see you any differently.

Originally posted by jimintrashpng


It wouldn’t affect the relationship at all. It would be a big thing for him to endure, but he wouldn’t let you worry about it. He would still stand by you and would love you just the same.

Originally posted by mean-suga

Rap Monster

He would see it as you truly opening up to him and he’d want to deepen the relationship with you. He likes seeing you show you true self and he’d love that you feel comfortable enough to tell him.

Originally posted by snowmons


Receiving news like this can be very shocking, but Hobi is very mellow with changes. He is definitely the type to see the bigger picture and he has a very loyal heart. He would want to meet your child whenever you are ready and more than anything, he would prove that he would always be by your side.

Originally posted by hohbi


Sometimes all a person needs is a warm embrace, and that’s exactly how he would react. He’d hold you for as long as you need him too. Revealing a complicated past is always difficult and often scary, but he would want you to feel safe telling him everything, how it all came about, what’s the next step, and most importantly if your child will accept him.

Originally posted by shinenamjoon


“Are you kidding?”


“I love kids! When can I meet them?”

He would be overjoyed. He would practically be your child’s father as soon as they meet. He would take a load of selfies and make sure that you feel at peace with telling him such a difficult topic.

Originally posted by deathlymaze


Because he is also very young, he may need time to think. It’s not a bad thing. He would just have to think of how to appeal to both you and your child and how he would be as a parental figure. Keeping in mind that he loves you, he’d give you full support. He would definitely be haunted by the thought ‘will he/she like me’ for a while, but after he meets your child, he’ll be back on track.

Originally posted by jungkookjinyoung

take my hand;

I was fifteen when I fell in love with Bella.

She reached out to me through email. She’d been reading my Naruto fanfiction, and it had blown her mind. FFN had a perfectly adequate review system, but I was flattered that she’d taken the time to reach out personally, and we started to talk regularly.

We became LJ friends, and she introduced me to the concept of AIM, a hell program that I still use l ten years later, mostly because me and the three friends I talk to on l it can’t be assed finding an alternative. At some point I found out that she was five and a half years older than me, but that wasn’t unusual. Most of the friends I was making online those days were older than me.

The bones of that relationship are scattered across half a dozen websites and old email accounts. Thousands of words in letters, comments, reviews, chats, forming the shape of a girl.

She was a woman, in hindsight, but I didn’t think that at the time. At the time, she was just mine. The first person I’d ever met who seemed to know me, which only made me want to tell her more. All of my anxieties, trouble with school, trouble with mum, trouble with life. She had her own problems, living overseas in America with a girlfriend who sounded insane (they’d meet online too), a best friend who never seemed to take her side, difficulties with school (she had to be in college to keep her visa).

She let me help her with those things. I could be a listening ear, a supporting arm, someone to shore her up when it all seemed too much. My life started to revolve around her. All of my free time was spent talking to her, writing with her, worrying about about her. I thought she was in an abusive relationship. I thought she was struck in a house with horrible people and had no options to move.

I was thinking about my sexuality a lot back then. I’d had one abortive attempt at dating a boy, ruined by my social anxiety and strange urge to bring my best friend along for ‘moral support’. Talking it over with Bella seemed to make everything so much clearer. I love her, I told a friend, another Kiwi teenager we’d met through RP. Promise not to tell her, but I love her.

Keep reading

Reaction: Their crush has a tattoo they didn’t know about.

~Exo reaction!

~I also did a Bts version.

(Gifs not mine.)


(Omfg, this gif is so adorable. He’s too freakin’ precious for this world.)

You were ranting to him about a particularly stressful day at work and had gotten quite animated. And due to your dramatic hand gestures, the neck line of your loose top shifted to the left, revealing a bit of the tattoo under your collarbone. Minseok noticed it almost immediately but all he did was smirk.

He probably wouldn’t say anything about it right there and then but wait a bit and give you a heart attack by randomly bringing it up, getting pretty excited while doing so (insert gif). He wouldn’t mind it at all and probably find it cute.


You were helping him grocery shop for his children members. He’d asked to grab something from a high shelf. You sighed, placing a hand on one of the lower shelves and stretched up to try and reach the shelf. As you did this, your shoe slipped off your foot and thus putting the tattoo on the bottom of your foot on full display. Junmyeon had noticed your struggle and, being the gentleman he is, was on his way over to help you when he spotted the tattoo. He got a little bit awkward but chose to ignore the tattoo and not bring it up.

To be honest, I don’t think Junmyeon would be overjoyed that you have a tattoo, considering he’s one of the more traditional members. I’m not saying he’d hate it, he definitely would never say anything like that to you. As long as you were happy with it, he’d learn to love the tattoo as it’s something you love.


You had gone out for coffee with him. As you were standing in the line, he asked you what you wanted and you pointed at the menu while telling him. As you pointed at the menu, Yixing’s eyes followed your hand but stopped when he saw the tiny tattoo at the base of your thumb. He stared at it as you continued the conversation you’d be having. When he didn’t respond, you looked at him and saw a very shy and embarrassed Yixing. When you asked what he’d been staring at, he quietly said your tattoo and you just laughed then ordered your coffee and his. 

Yixing would most likely be shocked when he first sees or finds out about your tattoo. You know that really cute face he makes when he’s confused? That would be exactly the face he’d make. He’d like it tho.


You were going to a party with him and were trying to get your necklace on but the clasp kept slipping. Baekhyun laughed at you and took the necklace from your hands and told you to hold up your hair. You held up your hair and as he was putting the necklace on you, Baekhyun noticed the ink near your spine. He put the clasp into place then touched the ink, causing you to jump. You turned around only to see him smirking out you then chuckling at you.

Baek would probably love the tattoo. He’d think it’s really badass and would ask if you have any more or if your planning on getting any others. If you were, he’d probably go with you but would run for the hills the second the needles touched your skin.


You two had been messing around and having a sassy and playful argument when Jongdae decided the only way he would win this was by tickling you. He tackled you onto the couch and attacked your sides while you protested. As he tickled you, your shirt went up a bit, revealing the small bit of ink on your lower abdomen. Jongdae immediately stopped his attack to look at the tattoo. You caught on pretty quickly and pushed your shirt down, a bit flustered that he’d seen the tattoo. He found your flustered state adorable and tapped your nose while calling you cute.

Jongdae’s the type to get a bit salty that you didn’t tell him about your tattoo. I really don’t think he’d mind that much as long as it wasn’t something really big, like a sleeve or a big piece on your thigh. 


You were just out walking with Chanyeol when it suddenly got really hot. You pulled your hair up into a bun, putting your neck tattoo on full display. Chanyeol was mid-sentence when he noticed it and kinda froze in shock. You’d kept walking, not realising he’d stopped. You noticed he wasn’t beside you and glanced back, to see him grinning widely at you. You asked him what he was smiling at and he laughed then tapped the back of his neck. Your hands flew to your neck as it registered with you that he’d seen your tattoo. You blushed and looked away. He just laughed more then caught up with you and threw an arm over your shoulder.

Chanyeol would probably just be intrigued by your tattoo. He’d ask a few questions about it maybe but I don’t think he’d really care that much. He’d probably think it’s cool.


You two were just in the dorms, hanging out when you decided to tell him about your tattoo. When you called his name, Kyungsoo looked up from his phone and you turned your back to him, then pulled your hair to the side, giving him a full view of the tattoo behind your ear. He simply nodded then looked down, not saying a word or showing any facial expression. You asked him what he thought and all he said was he didn’t mind.

I don’t think Kyungsoo would be thrilled that you have a tattoo. Like Junmyeon, I don’t think he’d hate it but it would take a bit of time for him to get used to it. In the end though, he most likely wouldn’t mind all that much.


You two were binge-watching movies on his day off and he’d asked you to get popcorn. You went into the kitchen, put the popcorn into the microwave then looked around for a bowl. You noticed one on the top shelf and reached up to get in. As your arm went up, so did your shirt, revealing the tattoo near the small of your back. Jongdin noticed you struggling and went help you but stopped in the doorway when he saw your tattoo. He just stared at it until you successful grabbed the bowl and noticed him staring. He’d get all shy and apologise for staring then just go back to sitting on the couch, blushing.

I think Jongin might kinda like your tattoo. I don’t think he’d be against it at all, he’d just accept it as another part of you and wouldn’t really think about it too much.


Another member had seen your ankle tattoo while you were taking your shoes off at the door of the dorm and told him. He got super sassy about it. Like, the second you walked into the room, he’d be like “I believe you’ve something to tell me.” You’d just tell him about the tattoo and show it to him, to hopefully avoid his dramatics. Cue sassy drinking of water while eyeing you (gif).

He’d probably love your tattoo. He seems to be pretty open-minded. Like Jongin, I think he’d prefer if it wasn’t a really big tattoo but I honestly don’t think he’d care.

~A/N~ This is so long but I loved writing this. Reaction requests are open. I take reaction requests for exo, bts, monsta x, seventeen, astro, got7, nct (all units) and blackpink. More groups will be added in the future.