I didn’t watch the second half of supergirl season 2 because of the lack of storyline and the fact that the main focus was on some boring ass white man doing nothing but try and get with a girl. I guess I won’t be watching season 3 either considering the producers know nothing about thinking outside the box and putting ships before storylines.
There’s no point in bringing mon el back at all, he brought nothing to the table. He would be tolerable if he actually had a purpose but he doesn’t. What was the point in that whole ‘emotional send off’ if they’re just gonna bring him back out of the blue. The world is literally lead, can’t wait to see how the misogynistic producers are gonna turn that one around and make some kind of cure so they can bring back plain old frat boy.
Also I would like to say this rant has nothing to do with me being a supercorp shipper, yes I ship and love supercorp but I watched and loved the show way before that. I loved karolsens development and how it never took away from the main storyline. I hate the fact that James got sidelined just so they could show mon el more. JAMES, THE PERSON WHO WAS BECOMING A HERO HIMSELF GOT LESS SCREENTIME THAN A DAMN MANCHILD. I loved the sisterly bond in season 1. I loved that for once, there was this show about a powerful woman, a powerful independent woman who stood up for what she believed in, who put herself before any man.
I MISS SUPERGIRL BEING ABOUT SUPERGIRL. I miss the feminist one liners from cat grant. I miss the badass woman known as Lucy lane!! If these producers can make these badass women disappear why can’t they make mon el disappear. I cannot stand the thought of another season being ruined by a piece of bread.
Sorry in advance for the TMI but I may have found the holy grail to my acne issues and I want to share for anyone struggling. as far back as I can remember, I have struggled horribly with nodule cystic acne, not just on my face but my neck, chest and back. Sometimes so bad that I can’t even lay on my back or wear bras because it would hurt too much. I have been in and out of dermatologists since I was 13 and I was unwilling to try accutane, which is a drug that closes your sweat glands to minimize acne, though it can have severe health defects.
I’ve always hoped I’d grow out of it and when I didn’t (I am 25) the lab experiments continued; every kind of chemical claiming to fix it, every kind of natural remedy to cure it, tanning, in and out of doctor offices testing my hormones, showering 3 times a day because I am an athlete..NOTHING WORKED.
Well recently my back has been flaring up again and it’s been painfully embarrassing, so willing again to play chemist, I put my knowledge to use and made a concoction, put it in a spray bottle (to easily access my entire back) and OMG! it’s been 2 days and my skin doesn’t hurt to the touch and almost all the inflammation is down already.
1 part witch hazel; a well known acne fixer 2 part Apple Cider Vineager; known to kill bacteria, dissolve dead skin cells, and balance ph levels 1 part bactine; acne of any type is a wound, treat it as such! Bactine is an antiseptic with lidocaine aka a PAIN RELIEVER so sooth your painful cysts
throw that all together in a little spray bottle and spray on 1-3 times a day and watch the magic
Tom: lanie. i’m here with lanie to officially support barrulian, or as it’s otherwise known as…
Tom: allenbert. that is the shipping of julian and barry. we are in love. i don’t want to give you any spoilers— actually i shouldn’t say that, cause i’m completely giving you a red herring. peace and love, peace and love.
Dalish Food Preservation: Jerky, Pemmican, and Hot-Pot
For most cultures throughout Thedas, preserved foods are a necessity. For the peoples of the Anderfels, and the Elves of the Dalish Clans, this is especially true. The Anders have to deal with the volatile climate of the Anderfels, and the Dalish must deal with their nomadic lifestyle which leaves little room for fresh food storage of any meaningful value.
One thing many cultures have in common throughout Thedas, and even our own real world, is that each cultures has some variation of dried meats. In Thedas, two kinds of dried meats are very ubiquitous throughout most cultures that still make liberal use of preservation: Jerky, and Pemmican.
Jerky is meat that has been sliced or pounded very thin, and then dried with the aid of liberal amounts of salt and seasonings. In the modern era, we usually use nitrates of some kind to aid in the curing of meats like Jerky. In Thedas, and our own middle ages, however, they would have used only salt.
The Dalish typically make their jerky using salt, ironbark syrup (which is similar in flavor to mollasses), fermented rashvine sap and various herbs and spices that are native to the area in which they are staying. For example, Dalish clans in Ferelden and the Free Marches typically use a lot of borage, bay leaf, mint, juniper berries and parsley in their jerky.
Pemmican is essentially a loaf of dried/cured meat, mixed with fat and sometimes other ingredients. Some cultures add fruits and grains, whereas others use only meat, fat and seasoning.
In our own world, it is unknown who truly invented pemmican, but the word comes from the language of the Cree, one of the many indigenous peoples of North America.
Likewise, in Thedas, it is unknown who invented Pemmican. But almost every culture has, or used to have, a variant of it. The Dalish variation is known as ghial’bradh and incorporates a lot of dried berries and wild grains.
Hot-pot, hochepot, or hodgepodge is a stew made of a mixture of various ingredients, usually whatever the cook has on hand at the time. In many cultures throughout thedas, hot-pot is made with pemmican or some other cured or preserved food as its base.
Most cultures througout thedas have a variant of Hot-Pot. In Fereldan and the Free Marches, it is known as either hodgepodge, or rubaboo. In Orlais it is known as hochepot. In Antiva it is known as either mezcolanza or misto. In Nevarra it is known as miktí, and in Tevinter it is known as farrago.
Among the Dalish, it is known as grid’iathe. It is typically made with Dalish ghial’bradh along with whatever fresh vegetables, grains and herbs that Dalish clan is able to forage.
DALISH MEAT JERKY (Dil’Selem)
Dalish jerky is usually made from wild ram, bear, sheep or boar meat. However, some clans will trade with human settlements for mutton, pork and beef.
Ingredients yield: about 1.5 lbs of jerky
¾ cup hickory salt (about 6 oz by weight) (pickling salt will work fine)
¼ c ironbark syrup (Maple syrup, molasses, or honey will work fine)
1 large amrita vein bulb or 4 arbor blessing bulbs, crushed (4 spring onions or 4 cloves of garlic will work fine)
2 large spoonfuls purified and fermented rashvine sap (2 tbs Worcestershire sauce plus 2 tbs black pepper will work fine)
5 pounds fresh meat
spices of choice (vary by clan, so just use your favorites, or none at all)
Rub the meat with the salt, making sure to cover every inch of meat in a thin layer of slay. If you need to use more than ¾ cup, do so. However, do not use less than ½ cup.
Lay the meat on a rack in a large container and allow to rest in a cold place for at least 12 hours (the Dalish usually use tightly packed snow or ice, but i’m pretty sure a fridge will work fine). Do not allow the meat to rest for more than 48 hours.
Check the meat every day to check to see if any liquid needs to drained from the container. Make sure that any liquid that is drawn from the meat does not touch the meat. While there is enough salt on the meat to prevent bacterial formations, the same cannot be said for any liquid that is leeched out by the salt. Make sure to remove liquid when necessary.
After 12 hours, remove the meat and wash thoroughly, making sure to remove all salt. Then vigorously pat dry until the surface of the meat is completely dry.
Once dry, slice meat into long, thin strips no larger than ¼ inch thick. Make sure to slice the meat with the grain, otherwise your jerky will fall apart once dried.
Combine syrup, crushed bulbs, rashvine sap and any other spices of choice in a bowl until you form a smooth paste.
Dip each piece of meat into your seasoning paste, making sure that each piece is thoroughly coated in a very thin layer of seasoning.
Dry your meat using a wire rack over a low burning fire for at least 24 hours, or until fully dried.
In the real world: use a food dehydrator, making sure the temperature stays between 130 and 140 degrees at all times. Dry your jerky until it is firm and stiff but not ready to fall apart.
Alternatively, you can dry your jerky in the oven, making sure to use your oven’s lowest setting and leaving the oven door slightly open.
DALISH PEMMICAN (Ghial’bradh)
Similar to Dalish jerky, Pemmican or ghial’bradh is typically made with ram, bear, sheep or boar meat. Unlike jerky, however, it is not as salty, and usually incorporates dried fruit and grains. What results is a thick, dry meat ‘bread’ that is usually stored and then sliced to be heated and eaten later.
Many Dalish clans will store ghial’bradh is bags made of animal hide. These bags can be made to be air-tight and oftentimes clans will bury bags of excess ghial’bradh and leave specific markers so that other Dalish clans can make use of their good fortune later.
yield: about 3 lbs of pemmican
5 lbs of fresh meat
1.5 lbs of suet (animal kidney fat, specifically of beef, venison and pork)
2 oz (by weight) dried fruit
1 oz (by weight) cup cooked, drained and dried wild rice, or wild wheat berries
Slice meat very thin against the grain.
Dry meat on a wire rack over a very low smokey fire for about 24 hours until completely dry. (alternatively, dry on your oven’s lowest setting with the door slightly open for about 10-12 hours. If you use a dehydrator, bake your meat strips in the oven for 30 minutes at 200, and then use your dehydrator normally). Meat should be completely dry and brittle once done.
Using a mortar and pestle, ground your dried meat into a coarse powder (alternatively, you can use a food processor in the modern world).
Make sure the amount of dried meat is equal (in weight) to the amount of rendered fat you have. Adjust if needed.
Melt your rendered fat completely, but do not allow it to become too hot.
In a large bowl, combine the cooked grain, dried fruit and meat powder.
Add your rendered fat and stir until combined into a smooth paste.
Pour your paste into molds of your choice (the dalish use clay bread pans) and pat down to get rid of any air bubbles. Store in a cool place until set and firm.
Remove pemmican from your mold and wrap in cloth (or use plastic wrap if you live in the real world).
Your pemmican will keep for longer if you choose to omit the fruit and grain. Many Dalish clans would choose to leave out the fruit and grain until it was time to eat, and then they would mix the pemmican with the fruit and grain in a large bowl before eating.
Do remember that pemmican is very high in calories. 1 pound of pemmican typically contains 3000 calories, so it is very much not a food that you want to snack on. This is, however, the perfect food to take when you go backpacking or camping (or if you’re a constantly travelling nomadic Dalish clan).
Additionally, I recommend buying pre-rendered suet if you can get it, but if you’re interested in being a bit more traditional, check out this instructional video on how to render your own suet.
DALISH HOT-POT (Grid’iathe)
yield: about 8 portions
1 pound Dalish pemmican (ghial’bradh)
1 large bowl rashvine nettles, boiled, drained and washed (feel free to using stinging nettles or fiddleheads instead. Learn how to prepare stinging nettles here, and how to prepare fiddleheads here. Warning: Never EVER eat fiddleheads or nettles raw.)
1 large bowl fresh elfroot, washed and drained (you can use spinach or kale instead)
1 pound potatoes, peeled and diced
6 large Amrita Vein bulbs, roughly chopped (or 2 large onions)
Any other fresh vegetables and herbs you can forage (or buy at ye olde grocery store)
½ pound fresh wild rice or wild wheat berries (you can use farro or rye berries if you like)
1 spoonful of lard or butter (you can use vegetable oil as well)
Salt to taste
Roughly chop your pemmican
Heat the butter or lard in a large pot. Once the butter has started to brown, add your onions. Cook until translucent, and then add all of your other vegetables.
Put in another water to cover all of the vegetables by at least 2 inches.
Add in your chopped pemmican and wild rice. Cook until stew has reduced to a thick consistency and pemmican and rice are fully cooked.
Add your rashvine nettles, elfroot, and any other fresh greens and herbs that you wish. Cook just long enough for them to wilt and release their flavor.
Season to taste and serve immediately with a large mug of fresh Dalish ale.
Your stew should have the consistency of thin chowder. If you wish for a thicker soup, simply use more grains.
Bon Appétit, or as they say among the Dalish: Son’ava!
So lets talk about Lion 4 real quick. It was leaked and people are already saying it was a wasted episode. They’re hoping for more plot development in regards to the Diamonds, Homeworld, the war, and corruption. I understand where they are coming from. However, the show is following the same platform its established for itself in seasons passed and Lion 4 was about Steven’s character development.
Steven isn’t a kid anymore, he’s shouldered a lot of responsibility and experienced a lot of horrible things. We’ve seen him struggle with insecurity about being Rose Quartz and Rose’s kid. He believes the Crystal Gems expect him to be as capable as Rose and his enemies confuse him with Rose Quartz. He’s both admitted he’s not rose quartz (Steven vs. Amethyst) and expressed a desire to be more like rose quartz (Storm in the room, pink hair). He grew up with his mom on a pedestal and has to come to learn the great and terrible things she’s done in her lifetime. Rose didn’t do things without a purpose or a plan and with Steven knowing that, coupled with all his own trauma, would naturally start to believe he was made for a purpose.
Lion 4 is Steven dealing with that concept. “She made me for something”, “I have a destiny”, “there has to be a plan” - all ideas Steven presented again and again. This isn’t a kid with a magical destiny he has to fulfill. This is a traumatized kid reaching for any rational explanation about the things he’s been through. Then he’s confronted with a fact: Rose didn’t have a plan for him. There’s no ultimate goal for him. The things he’s been through are not preplanned events leading him to greater purpose. He is, in fact, the byproduct of a loving relationship that wanted their child to be whoever they chose to be. Nothing more.
This was a character development episode and its also important for the viewers to understand that this isn’t a destiny fulfillment show. This is a show about a kid growing up, learning extraordinary things, and dealing with terrible situations that no one has control over. The show may not lead to a war with Homeworld and a confrontation with the Diamond authority, we should be prepared for that. Steven may never liberate all gem-kind, he may never cure corruption, and he may never be more than Steven Universe. He could just be a kid like you trying to make the best of the life he has.
One thing that I hear a lot when it comes to mental illness is people saying “We don’t tell people with cancer they should just suck it up or try exercising!” And yeah, this is largely true. Most people wouldn’t dream of telling someone with a broken leg that they should just suck it up, that they were just holding themselves back with that cast. Most people. (Although there are TONS of people who are content to do this to people with disabilities and/or chronic conditions). However, in my experience, there are at least two groups of people who do say that kind of stuff about actual physical conditions, both of which I personally have had to deal with in profound and scarring ways.
You see this attitude a lot among fundamentalist Christians. First, a little background: I was raised in an apocalyptic Christian cult. For a lot of years, my brother and I were both denied medical care of any kind, instead being subjected to pain and faith healing. I would suffer for days with crippling migraines, and nearly died of an untreated ear infection at one point. The pastor of our church died of untreated congestive heart failure. One woman walked on a crutch for decades, needing a knee replacement. My brother spent several years almost deaf because of fluid on his eardrums. In fundamentalist circles, people suffering from debilitating physical conditions are told all the time that the only thing keeping them in a wheelchair is their lack of faith, or worse, told that their suffering is all part of God’s plan for their lives.
The other circle you see this a lot in is in the new age/homeopathic medicine crowd, and you see this stuff ALL. THE. TIME. on facebook, touting vinegar and kombucha and lemon juice, talking about “toxins” like people don’t have livers and kidneys. I cannot imagine anything more infuriating for someone who has a physical problem (or a family member with one) being told to try some kind of cleanse to cure their cancer. I’ve seen people go through this, too; being put on ridiculous “natural treatments” for chronic conditions, paying ridiculous amounts of money to have their energies aligned, all the while doing nothing medical to actually manage their symptoms or better understand the actual, physical nature of their condition.
So yeah, you can spend all day saying “we don’t tell people with physical problems xyz about how to manage them!” but know that we do, we absolutely do tell people that they can “cure” their hepatitis by drinking water purification tablets (I have ACTUALLY seen that one, not naming names). There are people who tell themselves that it’s perfectly normal to allow people to die without medical treatment because their faith isn’t strong enough.
Summary: Modern AU - Nesta and Cassian run into each other frequently due to her sister’s engagement to his best friend, and the encounters never go the way either of them want. Tension boils over at the rehearsal dinner and then the next day at the wedding, where they say and do things they can’t take back.
Notes: Thanks to @blxckbeak and @acourtofstarsanddreams for talking to me about this fic! More specifically, about Nesta. Also I want to tag @christina-dh because she asked for me to tag her in a certain type of fic if I wrote it… which, the thing doesn’t happen until the second part, but I don’t want to spoil it. :) And I hope the anon who sent me this prompt also enjoys it! (The prompt was “the hills are alive with the sound of bullshit”.)
I’ve never written a modern AU, plus it’s nessian, so… let me know what you think!
The evening before Feyre and Rhysand’s wedding, Nesta prepared for
the rehearsal dinner by getting a drink alone. The bar of the hotel had
seemed like as good a place as any for an over-priced gin and tonic,
especially if it meant she didn’t have to wander alone down the sidewalk
and be subjected to the inevitable leering of men who hung out on the
city street corners at all hours of the day. She could play nice and
support her sister, but she knew she needed something extra to smooth
her sharper edges before she showed up at the restaurant. Edges that
would inevitably come up against a certain infuriating best man. And
combined with the fact that her father would be there… yes, she
definitely needed this drink.
Sipping from her glass slowly, she listened to the hum of quiet
conversation just outside the bar in the cavernous lobby of her hotel,
to the first tentative sounds coming from the instruments of the jazz
band that was setting up for the evening. She had chosen a hotel where
few of the other guests were staying, a decision that she had explained
to her sisters as the result of poor last-minute planning, but really
had more to do with not wanting to be surrounded by the sycophants who
clamored for her future brother-in-law’s attention. The kind of power
that Rhysand’s family wielded would ensure security for her sister - for
all of them, really - but Nesta had no intention of being caught up
with his crowd.
She was seated at the end of the bar, close to where the bartender was
cleaning glasses. There was no use in sitting too far away from the man
with the bottle, she figured. Nesta was sure that no one she knew would
show up here, at a generic hotel bar. Among the many privileges of being
on her own was the fact that she could pretend to be ignorant of the
group’s plans of where to meet, when, to think about having to please
everyone else first. She was responsible for and answered to no one but
As she drank, she thought about Feyre and Elain, the recent changes to
their lives that had them seeing a bit more eye-to-eye. A week ago she
had talked to Feyre alone, for the first time in ages. The strain
between them had become less and less, lately; in fact, it had been the
first time that Nesta had spoken frankly to her sister about their
mother, their father, the way that Feyre had had to take responsibility
of the household when they were teens. Nesta and Elain had left as soon
as they could, Elain moving in with her now-former fiancé as soon as she
had graduated college and Nesta just… moving on.
Nesta had told herself that their father, if left to his own devices
long enough, would figure out that he was needed. That maybe one day he
would get his act together and take care of her younger sisters. By
leaving the moment she turned 18, she thought she was washing her hands
of her responsibility towards them, forcing him to take it on himself.
That didn’t happen, though, and she watched from afar as Feyre struggled
to pick up the slack at far too young an age.
She told herself that the anger she reserved was for him, but it had a habit of being aimed at the wrong people.
When she had met Feyre for lunch, Nesta hadn’t expected to rehash the
past. But over salads and microbrews, the two had come to a sort of…
détente, if not outright understanding. Nesta knew her youngest sister
would be fine, had found a life worth living, whether she had Rhys or
not. And Feyre knew that Nesta had done what she felt necessary at the
time, though it had come from a resentful, scornful place. Growing older
had the effect of putting their childhood in perspective, and they were
both ready to put aside animosity.
Nesta had asked about Rhysand, about how Feyre had met him - there was
an ex, someone Rhys knew, who had had a hard time letting go. Nesta had
been… displeased to find that her sister had needed help in that way.
That she had experienced something like this without reaching to her
sisters for help. Not that she could blame her little sister. But if
this Rhys was everything that Feyre claimed, then she could be happy for
her. She would give him a chance. Which was why she had flown out here
and had even helped her sister with some of the wedding planning.
Checking her phone for the time, Nesta saw that she had planned
perfectly. She had enough time for a second drink before leaving for the
dinner at a new Italian place that Mor had clued Feyre in on, the kind
of place where they cured their own meat. Finishing the last sip of her
drink, Nesta asked for another and was waiting patiently when a voice
came from behind her, smooth and taunting.
Her shoulders stiffened and she closed her eyes, cursing under her breath. Shit shit shit… Of all the hotels in the city, of all the bars… Turning her head while keeping her body facing the bar, she answered him.
In a way, Anderson was right; the case of Hope—Jefferson, Jeff the cabbie, and Sherrindford—was about revenge. Rache, German for revenge; Rachel, it’s not a name. If we are to begin from the beginning, the real beginning, a study in scarlet shall be conducted then. Scarlet as in red, in blood, and in Rache i.e. all things German.
I’ve noted in several of my meta posts that series 4 was about the past – events that happened but certain details went unnoticed or seemed inconsequential at the time. Reality perceived differently, or perhaps, incomplete. Pink, a lighter shade of red. A Study in Pink, the pink lady, Jeff Hope, Moriarty; A Study in Scarlet, the lady in red, Culverton Smith, Faith? No. Eurus? No.
Scarlet. Roses are Red. Rosamund?
It has always been about John Watson. Ever since day one.
Request: Heyy :D could u do a Neville imagine where he’s always had a crush on hufflepuff reader and she helps him after his incident with the monstrous book of monsters and KILL ME WITH FLUFF AND SOME FEELS PLEASE
A/n: I am soooo sorry this took so long to write! I had really bad writer’s block and I was also caught up in homework and such so I’m super sorry!! Hope you enjoy this! I tried to write it with lots of fluff buuuut…words are hard…and fluffy moments are hard to describe!
It’s also kinda short so hope you don’t mind. AND I’M JUST NOW NOTICING HOW BAD WITH WORDS I AM!
“Y/n, prepare a bed please, we have an injured student coming in.” Madame Pomfrey said as she wiped her hands on her blouse and hurried to the front of the room, the click of her heels echoing off of the vast walls of the med wing. You nodded and turned to the nearest bed. You flattened out the sheets and fluffed the pillow, preparing it for when the student would be brought in.
You weren’t a real nurse yet, but it was something that had always interested you. In your first years, you would constantly be around the medical wing whether you were watching Madame Pomfrey work or doing your homework on one of the hospital beds. Now in your third year, Madame Pomfrey had given you an apron and put you to good use.
“Right this way,” you heard her say from the other side of the room and you looked over your shoulder as you worked, desperate to find out who was being brought in. “This one right here. Out of the way Y/n.”
You stepped aside and watched as they helped a limping boy onto the bed. It wasn’t until Hagrid had moved that you realized who it was.
“Neville. Neville longbottom.” You said softly as you approached the bed, a small smile on your face.
“Y/n?” He responded, cocking his head to the side as if he didn’t actually recognize you. His eyes lit up when he did and a small smile mimicked yours. “I didn’t know you were a nurse.”
“Well..” you looked at Madame Pomfrey who was smiling slightly as she pulled a few things up to the bed. “I’m not really a nurse yet. Just kind of helping out.”
“How about you treat this one Y/n. From what I can see, his injuries are rather simple and you know just about as much as I do anyway. Why don’t we test out your skills.” Madame Pomfrey smiled as she straightened herself back and nodded towards Neville.
“Do you really mean it?” You asked, almost too excited to contain your happiness. Madame nodded and you went straight to work.
“Alright Neville. Tell me what happened.” You said softly as you examined his physical appearance. He seemed rather untouched other than a few scratches here and there.
“Well, I’m coming from Hagrid’s new class and we were given the textbook, but no one told me the book was alive. It got my hand somewhat bad,” Neville lifted his hand up to show you a gash that stretched along his palm as well as tooth marks on his wrist. “I fell back then and hurt my ankle pretty bad on a tree root. That’s where all these little scratches came from too.”
You gently took his hand, examining the gash and the teeth mark. “These are small injuries. Easy to fix. I’ll just clean them and wrap them up and you should be fine.” You smiled at him as you moved towards the cart that had all of your tools on it. You grabbed a cotton swab and some rubbing alcohol. “This might sting a little bit.” You warned as you pressed the now dampened cotton swab against the hash on his palm.
You saw him wince but you forced yourself to continue dabbing at the cut. You grabbed a cotton square and placed it on the cut. “I’m just going to put some gauze around it now.” You said as you grabbed the gauze and made him hold out his hand. You slowly wrapped the gauze, making sure you wrapped it carefully so it wouldn’t cause irritation.
You were so focused on your work that you didn’t notice how Neville’s eyes caught your every move. In fact, you were always so caught up in the wonders of the medical world that you never noticed how he looked at you in general. He looked at you as if he was staring at a sky full of stars on a cloudless night. He looked at you as if he was staring at a field of magnificent wild flowers. He looked at you as if he was looking at a new kind of plant that would cure any disease known to wizards.
He looked at you like you were more than just his world but you were always too busy to notice it. Even at this moment.
“There.” You said softly as you took a small step away from him. “Your ankle is just sprained so it should be good in a day or so. Just try to stay off of it.” You wiped your hands on your blouse, just as Madame had done.
“Thank you, Y/n.” Neville said sincerely as he looked up at you. Your eyes met for a moment and in that moment, you could feel your whole mind go completely blank. You could only blink for a solid thirty seconds before snapping out of it.
“You can stay here for now, to rest your ankle. Just let either me or Madame know if it starts hurting. I’ll check the gauze in a couple hours.” You smiled in response. You placed your hand son his shoulders and slowly pushed him down onto the pillow. He nodded up at you and you couldn’t hide the small smile that tugged at your lips. “Get some rest.” You spoke softly before turning and making your way back towards Madame Pomfrey.
“How was that?” You asked as you pushed a few strands of hair behind your ear.
“Darling, you aren’t just helping out anymore. You are a real nurse.” She chuckled lightly.
“What?” You asked, turning towards her, your eyes wide.
“You heard me dear,” she laughed. “If someone was looking at me the way he was looking at you, I would be needing a nurse!”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about..” you said softly.
“Oh darling, how could you not have seen? The whole time you were working, he was staring at you as if you were the stars in the sky. That doesn’t even do it justice.” She smiled at you and you looked at the ground for a moment.
“I always thought Neville was too dedicated to Herbology to actually develop feelings for someone..”
“Just like you are so dedicated to becoming a nurse you don’t even recognize a boy staring at you like you are the best thing he’s ever seen.” Madame chuckled again. “You got the rest of your life to become a nurse, but you only have so much time to experience another’s affection. And it looks like Neville is ready to hand his over.”
“He might look at every girl like that..” you responded almost harshly but you knew she was right.
“Honey, we both know that Isn’t true.”
You sighed and nodded, a smile pulling at your lips. “Yeah. I know.” You took a deep breath walked back to Neville’s bed.
“I thought you weren’t going to be back for a couple hours..” Neville said as he pulled himself up into a sitting position.
“I’m actually not here for that..” you said softly as you sat on the bed. You looked at you hands, a slight tinge appearing on your cheeks. You raised your eyes to look at him and found yourself getting lost in his eyes. You took another deep breath before slowly leaning forward. Your eyes never left his as the gap between you got smaller and smaller. You had never had affectionate feelings towards anyone before so you most certainly did not have the experience to kiss anyone. Thankfully, Neville seemed to take over. He closed the gap between you, his lips crashing onto your own and for a brief moment, you were lost in time and space itself.
‘I’m not contagious Y/N, just please come over.’ You rolled your eyes as you read Joe’s text.
‘Joe I’ve been there the last three days.’ you replied hoping he’d leave you alone.
‘Pleeeease Y/N. You’re the only one around. I just feel uncomfortable and I need someone to take my mind off of it.’
You let out a dramatic breath as you sent back a reply, ‘Fine, be over in 10.’
You and Joe had been friends for quite some time now. You two had met shortly after he and Caspar had moved to London. One of your friends happened to be their neighbour and after a few 'Welcome to the Building’ parties, the two of you became fast friends.
“Finally! You said 10 minutes!” Joe said as he opened his front door.
“I’m here, thats all that matters.” You pushing past him as you made your way into his flat.
“Thanks by the way. I mean it, everyone is oddly busy whenever I’m ill.” Joe said closing the door and following you to the couch.
“Hmm, I can’t imagine why.“ You said sarcastically plopping down on the couch.
“I am really that bad?”
“You’re very needy, and whiney.”
“No I’m not!” Joe said grabbing the blank off the couch and wrapping himself in it before sitting down beside you.
“Of course not.” You laughed as he laid his head on your lap.
“Will you watch Love Island with me? I need to catch up.” He said reaching his hand out of the blanket to grab the remote and changing the channel before even giving you time to answer.
Hours had passed when you woke up from the nap you didn’t remember taking.
“Well good morning.” Joe said from the other side of the couch. He was still curled up in his blanket but he had moved into a sitting position with his laptop open on his lap and the tv was now off.
“How long was I asleep for?” You asked with a yawn.
“Eh, maybe an hour or so. You know you’re doing a very good job at helping me take my mind off how shit I feel” Joe said glancing over at you briefly before adverting his attention back to his laptop.
“I know, I know I’m sorry,” You said lifting up the end of the blanket and scooting closer to him, “What are you reading?”
“'Alternative cures for the common cold’” Joe read the title of the article outloud, “Since you’re not helping, I decided to take matters into my own hands.“
“Oh so I can go back home now right?”
"No no, I might need your help with some of these.” Joe said as you rolled your eyes.
“Fine, what kind of cures did you find?”
“Well there’s taking a bath; which I did, no luck, taking an ice bath…."
The two of you sat on the couch reading through the long list of possibly alternative cures to help Joe get rid of his cold he’s had for nearly a week now.
"Wait what did that say?” You said as you read an interesting word. “Joe quit, scroll back up.”
“What this one? 'Going for a run’, Y/N I’m not going for a run.” Joe said looking over at you with a disgusted look.
“No, scroll up. Okay okay stop.” You said as your eyes scanned the list, “There. Ha that’s what I thought I saw.”
“Orgasms. Have you tried that?”
“Y/N, who am I suppose to try that with?” Joe said looking back over at you.
"Or…” Joe said, turning the end of his lips into a smirk.
“Or wha- no! No no no Joe.” You said standing up from the couch.
“What, why not? It’s not like it would be weird Y/N…Are you seriously going to tell me you were actually that drunk that night? And the others?”
“That was just a kiss Joe and I’m not kissing you because you are ill.”
“Y/N, I didn’t ask you to kiss me.” Joe said from his position still on the couch. "I really don’t see what the big deal is. We’ve been friends for ever it seems and everyone is really surprised that we haven’t done anything yet.“
“The guys, Y/F/N, Zoe, my dad.”
“You’re dad? What the hell Joe.”
“What? It’s not my fault that we work well together and he’s curious. He’s just asked if we were dating yet. It surprised me as much as it’s surprising you now but he’s right you know.” Joe said looking at you calmly.
You opened your mouth to reply but shut it quickly.
Joe let out a small laugh, “And there’s no denying how frustrated you get around me.”
“That’s because you walk around here half naked.”
“Well it is my house Y/N. Speaking of, it’s getting a little hot in here don’t you think?” Joe said standing up.
“Joe quit it.” You said as you watch Joe start to lift up with sweatshirt revealing the abs you have seen more than you have ever thought you would have when you first met.
“Then quit staring.” He said walking closer to you.
You swallowed hard as you pulled your eyes away from his abs that were on full display, along with other things, from the low waistband of his trackies. You looked back up at Joe who had his devilish smirk plastered across his lips.
It’s not like you haven’t thought about sleeping with Joe before. You have a lot actually, you just didn’t think it would happen this way. You, much like all of your friends thought it would happen after a night out fueled by alcohol and a cloudy mind but you two were completely sober and you were too sure on how this came about.
“You owe me.” You said poking him in the chest before turning to head up the stairs.
“Wait you serious?” Joe said dumbfounded.
“Did you want me to say no?”
“I just thought you’d put up a bigger fight that’s all.” He said climbing the stairs behind you.
His hands found your body as soon as he caught up with you at the top of the stairs, his lips peppering quick kisses on your neck.
He has done with before, inside a club, so it was a little weird to now be in his bedroom.
“You know I’ve thought about this a lot.” Joe said against your skin once you two reached his bed.
“Have you?” You said turning around and wrapping your arms around his neck.
“Yeah, at the clubs those nights but I didn’t want to be drunk for it.” He said before leaning in to kiss you.
You returned the kiss but pulled away quickly, your eyes wide, as you remembered he was ill.
“Y/N it’s fine, if you get ill I’ll take care of you.” He said leaning in again, this time you didn’t pull away.
Joe’s fingertips brushed your midriff as your shirt lifted up. Moments later your shirt was lifted over your head and thrown to the floor.
Joe pushed you back on to his bed, he crawling up top of you while his lips moved down to your jaw and neck.
His hands were ahead of his lips as they were already roaming your curves and unclasping your bra. You let out a soft moan when his lips and hands finally met up at your breast.
Joe pulled away and smiled before leaning down to kiss you again.
Your hands moved down his stomach, stopping at the waistband of her pants and trackies. You reached down a little lower and found the growing tent that was much bigger than you had expected.
Joe pulled himself away and moved towards his bedside table to grab a condom while your panties and jeans down your legs. Joe followed your actions, giving himself a few pumps with his hand before rolling the condom on and hovering back over you.
“Ready?” He asked looking down at you.
You nodded and let your head fall back into the pillows as you felt him push into you.
“Fuck.” You whispered as Joe filled you up.
Slowly, Joe started moving his hips back and forth, building up a good rhythm within a few moments.
“Shit Y/N.” Joe moaned out as you tightened yourself around him.
You wrapped your arms around his neck once more and brought him down to you, pressing your lips firmly against his.
“God Joe.” you moaned against his lips, your head falling back into the pillows and Joe’s lips moving back to your neck.
A few thrusts later, you felt Joe start to slow down and the pressure in your body build up.
“Joe I’m close.” You breathed out with each thrust.
“Me too love.” Joe said thrusting slower but deeper into you.
Moments later that room was filled with each other’s names as the two of you released and began to catch your breaths.
Joe pulled out of you and left to discard the condom before coming back to the bed.
“There is now a 100 percent chance that I now have whatever you had.” You groaned as you rolled over into Joe chest.
“It’s alright love. I’ll take care of you and we can do that again because I actually feel a a lot better,” He said smirking down at you while you looked up and gave him a look, “You know what else helps cure the common cold?”
“What?” You said snuggling against his chest even more.
“Naps.” He said pulling the duvet up more to cover the two of you up while you both drifted off.
tagged by the fantabulous @ladytharen! and woo I’m finally semi-alive enough to do things like this so whee! (getting sick when it’s 100 degrees outside is a bitch, y’all.)
name: kat nicknames: kat is a nickname :) zodiac sign: sagittarius height: 5′3″ (once when i was like 15 a doctor gave me an extra half inch, but ever since I’ve measured 5′3″ flat and I still curse that doctor for that sense of false hope to this day) favorite fruit: raspberries, apricots, bananas favorite season: absolutely autumn without question favorite book: peter pan by j.m. barrie favorite flower: i…don’t have a strong preference here. sunflowers, maybe? favorite scent: the mountains in winter (it’s a thing, trust me) favorite color: violet favorite animal: elephants coffee, tea, or hot cocoa: coffeeeeeeeeeee average sleep hours: probably around 7, although my body really wishes it was more like 10 cat or dog person: dog favorite fictional character: weasley is our king number of blankets you sleep with: just the one dream trip: I wanna go back to Kathmandu pretty badly. Also actually being able to make it to Lhasa would be fantastic. blog created: I think this is asking about when I created my blog? in which case ages ago so that I could more easily browse, but I only really started posting stuff last November :)
Summary: reader is depressed and having an episode and ethan just wants to help
It was like the entire world around you had shifted into grey-scale. Nothing seemed bright enough or cheery enough. It was all just so… bleak. You couldn’t tell exactly what had started it this time, perhaps it was nothing at all, but it made you feel so empty, so weighed down. You didn’t know what to do. It was like all the light and color had been sucked out of your life and you’d been plunged into darkness. You thought maybe you should be used to this by now, but it felt even more new and horrible every time . Everything just felt so hopeless and you didn’t know how to fix it.
Breathing out deeply, you turned to you side and hugged your pillow closer to you. It was different than sadness in a way you couldn’t describe and it made you feel completely alone. You don’t know how long you laid there staring at the wall, but the sudden burst of of noise from your phone made you jump. It was like you weren’t in control of your body and it took you a few minutes to even get your arm up to reach for it. You moved like you were made of lead, weighed down and slow. You squinted at the bright light of the screen, letting your eyes adjust for a few seconds before you could read the message.
Ethan: I’m finally free! Omw back with pizza. You better be up for a god damn party
Oh. Ethan, your roommate, had been away for a few days. Three? You think… Some huge project he and his team were working on. You liked them, they seemed nice but you didn’t really think they’d warmed up to you yet. You’d only moved out a few months ago, leaving behind the town where both you and Ethan had grown up. Maybe they just needed time. As much as you loved Ethan, the thought of having to do anything, even just getting out of bed, made your body feel heavier and your stomach hurt. You wanted to answer him, but no suitable response came to mind so you shut off your phone and turned over. Maybe you’d just pretend to be asleep when he got back.
It made you feel a little gross and more than a little like a terrible friend, but about half an hour later when the door banged open and invited in the explosion of noise that was your friend, your resolve hardened. Closing your eyes and pulling your blankets up higher, you cringed a bit when he called out for you. Maybe you could just try and pretend for a few hours. You’d done it before. But no, he’d see right through you, and then he’d ask what was wrong and you wouldn’t even be able to tell him because you didn’t know yourself.
You could hear him bustling about the apartment, putting his things away and humming. Usually it would make you smile, but today the noise just made you feel small and sad.You hunched your shoulders up higher when there was a soft tap on the door.
“Hey Y/N? Are you busy? I’ve got pizza. It even has pineapple on it since it’s just us!” You could hear the smile in his voice and somehow that made you feel worse. You started to tear up, but just clenched your eyes a little harder.
“Y/N?” He sounded concerned now. God, you were such an ass. The sound of your bedroom door cracking open made you tense. Oh no please don’t do that Ethan.
“Y/N? Hey re you okay?”
You stayed silent, hoping he’d just go so you could wallow in your own emptiness alone.
“I’m not an idiot, Y/N. I know you’re awake.”
Fuck. You sighed, feeling stupid for thinking you could fool him. He had an eye for these things and you’d known each other so long it was probably second nature to pick up on habits.
“I… Eth, I just really want to be alone right now, okay?”
You could practically hear his eyebrows furrowing as he shifted his feet, trying to decide whether to stay or go. “Is everything alright? You’re not….” He trailed off but you knew what he meant. Ethan was perfectly aware of the weird things your brain did to you. He’d been there to help countless times.
You hesitated before answering. “…No. I’m fine, really.”
“Please don’t lie to me, Y/N. You know I only want to help.” He sounded so upset that something in your chest snapped. You turned to face him, still clutching your pillow and keeping your eyes downcast.
“I’m okay, I promise. I just… I don’t know. Go relax, Eth. You’ve been working for days.”
Ethan pushed farther into the room until he was standing in front of you. “You know I can’t do that if you’re like this. I worry.” He nudged you over while setting the box of pizza he’d been about to bring to you on the bedside table. Reluctantly, you moved over as he pulled himself up to sit next to you. “You don’t have to lie. I’m here for you, you know that. C’mere.” He opened his arms and you moved to lay your head on his shoulder while he put his arm around you. It was nice, familiar.
“You’re gonna be okay. You know that, right? This won’t last forever.” He rubbed your shoulder gently with his thumb as you tried to concentrate on his words.
“It feels like it will. I don’t understand why this is happening, Ethan.”
Ethan sighed, hugging you to his side. “I know. It’s not your fault, Y/N. I know it’s hard, but it’s not your fault. I wish I could do something to help you, but I know I can’t control this. But you gotta stay with me, okay? You have to know you will get through this. And I’ll be right here with you any time you need help.”
You could feel tears welling up in your eyes as you pressed your face against Ethan’s chest. Kind words wouldn’t cure you, but it was nice to know someone cared. “Thank you, Eth.” You said, voice muffled and small.
Ethan smiled slightly, reaching down to grab your blanket and pull it over the both of you. “It’s okay. You’re okay.” He said, hugging you again and rubbing soothing circles on your shoulder. He hesitated a second before pressing his lips to the top of your head in a light kiss and whispering “Love you.”
You gave a small, watery smile to the fabric of his shirt and breathed out a laugh. “Love you too, Eth.”
You’re not sure how long you stayed there, but eventually you fell asleep. And when you woke up, still next to one of the best friends you’d ever had, still feeling warm and safe, you thought that maybe Ethan was right.
I’d been sat watching him sleep for almost an hour.
The morning sun was bursting through his sheer curtains, washing over his face
as I concentrated on him, my heart in the very pit of my stomach.
I’d woken to Harry wheezing and whimpering at some point during the night, and
at one stage, whilst I was leaning over him, brushing through his hair and
trying to wake him, he’d whispered the word please.
I’d really struggled with it, hearing how human he sounded. One of the things
that helped me was how hollow and distant he seemed in that state, like it
wasn’t really him. Hearing his pleas reminded me that it was Harry going
through that trauma, and it wounded me.
Okay, I say poor Remus, and absolutely it sucks to be him, both in general and during the years between the wars, but I think it’s too simplistic to just write him off as ‘yeah it sucked for him after they all died.’ It did, but he’s not only his friends, you know? He’s too full of life even when he’s falling asleep on the train, to simply be a ghost for 12 years.
So backtracking to ‘81: He’s lost everyone he ever loved at twenty-one, in a violent, terrible way. Most of them had also lost the majority of their families, so who was left to identify, as best he could, Pettigrew’s finger, who went through the traitor Black’s things, and who sorted out the Potters’ affairs? Remus (oh and if you want extra pain imagine Remus and Snape like ghosts at the Potter funeral - the private one where they buried James and Lily, not the memorial service for the Potters and Peter that drew hundreds of thousands of people to Godric’s Hollow).
Less than two months later came Christmas. That time last year he’d been freshly mourning the death of John Lennon. Now, he had no one. Remus Lupin had a hard year.
It’s so understanding to believe that he’d succumb to his grief and waste away in the interim, but twelve years is a really long time and Remus was still very young. There’s far too much life in him to simply stop living and wait around for Dumbledore to find a new use for him. That’s not who he is.
He dealt with his overwhelming grief and guilt and regret by pulling a classic Lupin move: ‘if I don’t think about it it can’t hurt.’ He took whatever work he could get (some legitimate and some less than legitimate, and all absolutely under the table), wherever he could get it, and dealt with his pain on the run.
And it sort of worked. He’s the only one of that generation we know well from the books - and I’m including Snape here - who actually matured and grew as a person. Sirius and Peter didn’t have the chance to, since they were both sort of frozen in that moment of betrayal by their respective imprisonments (Sirius’ unwillingly, Peter’s out of survival).
He’ll never forget his friends, and their loss will always hurt, but the sharp agony of their loss in that first year or so slowly grew into that manageable undercurrent hum of loss. He watches Quidditch matches (mostly for James), and even helped a grassroots movement for Azkaban prison reform in ’85 which ultimately went nowhere. He tried to recreate something of the Map during a particularly destitute time to see if he could sell that magic off, but without their expertise and Peter’s uncanny attention to detail, that scheme died out. Hearing that Harry started at Hogwarts in ’91 caused the first sharp pang of grief in years.
Because you know what he still went to shows concerts. He got in an argument with a stranger on a train out of Rio about whether U2 sold out in ’88. He sends postcards to the Hogwarts professors of places he’s been with little notes and keeps up small correspondence. He takes photographs on his dad’s shitty, charmed old camera and has had more than one lover in more than one country. He’s made friends, boatloads of them in fact, and so many of them nonhumans. He’s spent countless full moons in government run “sanctuaries” which are basically church or temple basements kitted out to contain a dozen vicious, man-eating beasts. He always stays around to chat with any other lonely werewolf, and maybe grab a coffee, if they can manage to scrounge up enough money between them.
When he came back to England he had more life experience than two of your average thirty-somethings combined. He had stories to tell and people happy to listen. He cried when he visited Lily and James’ graves, but it was due more to the fond ache in the healed over hole in his heart. He’s never seen Peter’s Order of Merlin ribbon or medal (he’s not got the faintest idea) but he has pointed out on numerous occasions the hole in a wall in Diagon Alley where a very drunk eighteen year old Peter Pettigrew nearly took out the block trying to kill a spider. When people asked him if he hated Sirius Black, he said honestly: no, I think he was a kid in over his head who made a stupid decision.