"ISIS isnt muslim" are you serious??? "ISIS" literally stands for "Islamic State of Iraq and Syria." Emphasis on ISLAMIC (=muslim)
radical islam ≠ islam BOI how are they muslim when they don’t follow the basics of islam?? if i call myself a vegan and eat meat then u wouldn’t consider me a vegan until i started acting like one yet ur dumb ass would be in my inbox saying “farha called herself a vegan so she’s vegan which means all vegans eat meat (VEGAN = Vmeat Eat Good A Nutrition) (FARHA = Feast A Real Hmeat Always = vegan)
I’ll start off with the 90′s Disney film. You know what my favorite thing about Mulan is? In the beginning, she’s lamenting about never being able to follow the path her parents wish for her and make them proud (there’s literally an entire song about this):
And I remember me, a little Chinese girl, watching that film knowing that pressure all too well (I’m sure that many other people from many other cultures can also relate). Please don’t call me out on generalization but if there’s one thing I’ve noticed about Chinese customs/traditions/etc. is that there’s this alarmingly toxic idea that if you don’t make your parents proud then you’re essentially a failure, that if you don’t bring honor to your family then everything you’ve done is worthless.
Now, Moana deals with this idea in a different way. It’s discussed in the form of a girl who longs for something forbidden when she should be learning how to properly lead her village like her father and all of her ancestors before him. She also has an entire song about her obligations and rebellious wishes and how she just has to stamp them down (which Auli’i sings beautifully):
Older me watching this saw some serious Mulan parallels. I also really appreciated the film as a whole, but I explain all of that later on. The two of them try. They try their best to be the perfect daughter that their parents want:
It was obvious that they both care and love their families enough to make the effort, but it’s also very obvious that their hearts just weren’t in it enough:
It’s like dreaming of becoming an award-winning actress but forcing yourself to drop the idea in favor of going for something “practical”, then spending the rest of your life behind a desk miserable and filled with regret. That sounds dramatic, I know, but nobody really knows how many lives we have, so you should treat it like you only have one chance. Anyways, through the course of the film, Moana and Mulan move aside from that filled-with-regret route and both defy what everyone’s telling them to do and go off to have some pretty wild adventures:
Moana finally does pursue that forbidden dream of hers by setting out to sea and essentially saving her known world, whereas Mulan puts all of her frowned upon, “unladylike” martial arts to use by saving China. Moana gets to lead her people to a brighter future and Mulan gets to see her parents filled with pure pride.
Making yourself proud and feeling personally accomplished is more important than trying to match up with other peoples’ standards. Spending your entire life trying to satisfy other people doesn’t sound very great, or fulfilling, or pleasant. Of course to some degree that’s needed, especially in the workplace or at school, but you shouldn’t plan your entire future on it. Growing up I always assumed that when my parents finally said “I’m proud of you” with every fiber of their being then I had done it. I had done everything I was supposed to, and now I should feel happy. But somewhere at the end of middle school when I was being suffocated with high expectations and being asked to plan for classes I wouldn’t be taking until I was seventeen, I realized that isn’t the case. They can say they’re proud and be happy but I won’t be. I kept this thought around until I did something completely out of the ordinary, something that wasn’t in their plan, and although it made things a little rough between us, the result of it was terribly shocking to me.
They said it. They said “I’m proud of you” in a way that I had never heard before, and hearing it like that during this particular event was like something out of a dream.
And this is the point I was trying to use Moana and Mulan to get across. You can make your parents/family proud in ways other than those that they have set for you. You can make them proud without following the exact road they’ve directed you to.
And if they’re still not proud after all of your bravery and hard work, then screw them.
That post about that porn gif of pins and needles being shoved into a woman’s vagina etc. and other torture in porn reminded me of my first encounter with porn on here.
A few years ago a woman I followed reblogged a porn gif of a woman tied up, and some man in all black with a ski mask on shoved his penis in her mouth and she was literally sobbing, and shaking. I called her out saying I don’t care if she watches porn (I was trying to not seem prudish or ‘shaming’ which is a red flag for how liberal feminism is trash btw) but that it looked like rape and it was disturbing. Of course she ignored me. This is back when I didn’t even know the facts about the horrors of the porn industry and sex trafficking. I just saw it and knew it was torture I didn’t mistake her reactions as anything but terror.
That shit is real, these women are really being tortured in so many atrocious ways for the sadistic fantasies of males, and women supporting this shit is so fucked up.
Liberal feminism has failed, women being raped and tortured on screen isn’t empowerment it isn’t edgy its torture. Stop defending and supporting that shit.
*looking at the trio* I'm sorry, but we don't allow animals in here.
*looking to Cas* Excuse me? My friend here is a freaking angel. He's done more for this world than you ever could, and if anyone has the right to be called a "person," it's him. So why don't you say that to his face!
What? An angel? No! I was talking about the gigantic moose that followed you guys in!
Hey! That's my brother you're-
*makes moose noise*
*realizes that they've been walking around with a literal moose all day, mistaking it for Sam*
Son of a Bitch, that's the third time this week
Luke dies in his fight with the Emperor before Vader has a chance to save him.
This breaks Vader, to the point where he just fucking leaves the Empire and goes off to find Leia “there is another” Organa and what remains of the Rebellion.
And he shows up on Leia’s doorstep, to which Leia shoots him immediately. “Okay that’s fair,” he says, wheezing and holding his wired shoulder in pain.
“What do you want?” she says, this time aiming the blaster at his head. “Answer quickly.”
He tosses her Luke’s lightsaber. “This should belong to you. He would want you to have it.” He coughs, “And I want to join the Rebellion.”
Leia lowers her gun very carefully. “Explain.”
“What is there to explain?” Vader stands fully, towering over Leia. “He killed my son. I want the Emperor dead. At this point, I no longer care what government replaces him so long as the man who murdered my son is dead.”
Leia thinks I can work with that.
So you have Leia here steadfastly ignoring Obi-Wan and Yoda’s ghosts who follow her around spouting Jedi nonsense, of which she refuses to listen to unless they let her talk to Luke, who instead turns to Darth Vader to learn the ways of the Force. “Lost, all hope is” except it isn’t.
Because you have Darth “Probably Not A Dark Sider Anymore But Also Wouldn’t Call Him a Jedi” Vader and Leia “Anger Is My Middle Name But I’m Also Firmly In the Light” Organa teaming up and wrecking havok on literally everything. Seriously, there are whole planets on fire.
Vader teaches Leia the Force, and they never bring up the fact that they are related if they can help it (which means, inevitably, that they end up talking about it occasionally: “You look like your mother,” “…What was she like?” v. “I see now why Obi-Wan didn’t train you. You couldn’t be more my daughter if you tried. Poor Bail…I can only imagine what you were like as a child.” with Leia sputtering “HOW DARE”).
meanwhile Han Solo is following them holding a baby Ben (who, I imagine, is now named Luke) going “guys? guys? i don’t understand. why is darth vader here. leia why haven’t you shot him. leia can I shoot him? leia we should probably not set this planet on fir–okay, so we’re setting this place on fire. cool cool cool”
in the afterlife, Obi-Wan and Yoda are mourning about how ALL IS LOST while Padme and Luke are drinking mimosas and laughing because they knew there was good there all along.
Hello, you lovely and wonderful people! I recently hit 5K followers and honestly it’s hard to even imagine? I’m so happy you’re all here and that you find my yelling entertaining enough to stick around. It’s been a long time (2.5K?) since I did a Follow Forever, so I’d like to take some time to call out the wonderful people who make this site what it is!
Warning: there are a lot! Haha why are you all so ridiculously amazingl?
i'm new to tumblr! could give me 10 tumblrs i should follow for bucky fics?
@bovaria - mafia queen of the bucky fic world. to be specific, she’s my soup dumpling powerhouse queen. what you can start with: “By Royal Decree” series, “Called Out” series, “Winter’s Spring”
@buckyywiththegoodhair - actual ray of sunshine, partner in literal crime, sass master. god rest this old bitch’s soul and her talent. what you can start with: “Catch Me” series, “A Lesson in Love” series, “Voicemail”
@brighterlights - my sister/sœur in fluff is ridiculously talented, and we should all binge read her masterlist what you can start with: “For Your Convenience” series, “#DateMeBuckyBarnes series, “Unspoken Friends”
@pleasecallmecaptain - pure writing goals. i want to write like her, end of story. what you can start with: “With You”, “Those Magic Changes”, “Beauty and the Beast”
@abovethesmokestacks - queen of angst. she can squeeze tears and heartbreak out of the most heartless of people what you can start with: “Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This” series, “With Love”, “Oh How We’ve Grown” series
@sebbytrash - an actual legend and icon. if she was able to sell her writing talent in bottles and containers, i’d drain my savings to buy it. what you can start with: “Postcards” series, Five Sweaters to Make Me Want You”, “желание” series
@marvel-ash - talent talent talent in all departments of writing and art what you can start with: “Surrender” series, “In An Instant” series, “Changed” series
@beccaanne814-blog - literally the sweetest human on this planet. what you can start with: “27 Dresses” series, “The Best Part of My Day”, “I Don’t Think I’m His Type”
@howlingbarnes - i binge read her masterlist in less than 2 hours and i wanted more immediately. what you can start with: “Once Upon a Dream” series, “Lektionen in der Liebe”, “Let’s Play Tennis”
@redgillan - again, another masterlist i binge read. it was like water being presented to me in a desert. what you can start with: “Honeysuckle”, “A Cold Hearted Monster”, “Find Out”
there are many other talented writers whom i’m a fan of out here on tumblr. have fun exploring, and welcome to tumblaaah!
i am still reeling from reading that number. 3,000 of you guys follow me. that’s insane. i love each and every one of you a BUNCH and i hope you never forget that. i decided to do a little follow forever to celebrate this milestone. thank you all so much!
ultimate, ultimate darlings:
@alexanderhamllton - okay, if you don’t follow this girl, you are severely missing out. ren is both the creator of this lovely banner she made (!!! have u seen the cute lil sun??? um) and the source of so many lovely gifsets that our fandom is blessed to have. i am always honoured to call her my long lost twin sister.
@womenarethesequel- andie is quite literally a lighthouse in a storm. this girl offers me endless mountains of support and enthusiasm, i honestly don’t know where i’d be without her. what a precious thing!
@itsquietuptwon - wow, alright, lela?? is like the moon. she’s not always visible to us mere mortals, but when she is, it is stunning to see. her fics are so cute, and she spreads so much light and positivity. much love, petite poussin!
@butlinislin - rosie, rosie! if there’s anyone to go to when you’re needing a smile on your face, it’s this girl. she has nothing but good things to say, and is always considerate and easy-going. thank you for always having such faith in me.
@protecting-my-legacy - my god, mackie is one of the funniest people i know. she has this wonderful, enigmatic humour that is unlike anyone i have ever seen! i adore her and her ability to make me laugh and smile.
and now, the incredible blogs that make my dash such a great place! favourites are bolded, but that isn’t to say i don’t adore every one of you.
IN TIME FOR VALENTINES DAY ( BECAUSE DAMMIT, REASONS) A NEW MINI SERIES THING. DIFFERENT WRESTLERS / READERS THROWN TOGETHER AND WINDING UP IN ROMANTIC SITUATIONS. SOME WILL BE EXES, SOME WILL HAVE CRUSHES, SOME WILL HAVE CRUSHES WHILE PRETENDING TO HATE THE OTHER, AND OVERALL, JUST STEAMY FLUFF.
FIRST UP BARON & EX GIRLFRIEND READER… STRANDED IN AN ELEVATOR.. SPECIAL APPEARANCES BY DOLPH (AS READER’S FAILED BLIND DATE) AND COREY/DEAN ( FOR MORAL SUPPORT / TO HELP SABOTAGE READER AND DOLPH’S DATE.).
Not much. !claustrophobic reader. antagonistic dean & corey. almost sex in an elevator.
I have to thank my girl, my boo @fan-fiction-galore for her encouragement on this and her input. lot of the ideas in here are thing we discussed and I just love her okay? Also have ot tag my girl, my boo @mimicthephoenix because she’s amazing and her writing is too and she’s always encouraging these things too.Also, going to tag @writergrrrl29 my boo, another I love to dicuss stuff with on here, you are amazing!
wait so what happened?? did someone steal your art??
I mean, people repost my art with out my permission all the time but that’s another story
what happened today : So when I posted part one of Dandelions I had a lot of people ask if they could turn it into a fic. I politely told them all I wasn’t comfortable with that but I kept getting those kinds of messages. I finally got tired and typed up a rant as to why I didn’t want people making my comic a fic (you can read the rant here!)
so fast forward and I post part 2 of dandelions. Literally the next morning I wake up to someone in all caps saying if I wasn’t going to make it a fanfiction (which it already is, its just in comic form) could they write it.
already having dealt with constant messages like this, the all caps intensity of their message, and the fact that I had literally JUST woken up: I fucking snapped.
I was a little harsh but how they retaliated was completely inappropriate. hours later they proceeded to send me multiple messages, one after the other, pretending to be a bunch of people ganging up on me. Most of the messages I didn’t answer, a lot of them containing all kinds of insults from name calling to saying I mistreat my followers (which, oh god I hope not.. please let me know if I seem to not treat anyone well! I do have a busy schedule and I’m sorry if I don’t get to someone if they message me!). They said I was over reacting and they were going to write the fic anyway because “its not like I could stop them”
I have a feeling I know who this person is though, they harassed me when I had my ask blog. And I knew it was just one person because as soon as I blocked the IP address and refreshed my blog, ALL the terrible messages in my inbox vanished!
I hope that all made sense. I’m still all shaky because of what all happened. Today has just been a shit day
dead chicken jokes are old and unfunny now, pls drop it. don’t send me any more asks about it. it was funny at first to joke about shoma having no fashion sense but it’s gotten to the point where there’s more focus on his costumes than his skating. i honestly don’t care what he wears at worlds, i just want him to skate well. i don’t agree with all his decisions but at least i can recognize he’s his own person and can make his own decisions.
also this twitter thread sums up my feelings about the skating fandom’s recent tendency to treat shoma like a little kid. it’s a good read and i recommend it for everyone. i have personally called myself his “mom” before and i think this has exacerbated the problem, and i will try to avoid this kind of vocabulary in the future. in my case, i feel protective of him because i have literally watched him since he was 12, and have followed his journey for the past 6 years. i am also some years older than him. it may be hard sometimes for me to believe he’s grown up, but the fact is that he is 19 now, a legal adult in most of the world, and should be treated as such. the fact that he looks young is no excuse to still talk about him like he’s 10 (and tbh, even if he WERE 10, that’s still no excuse to be creepy). basically just…stop infantilizing shoma. watch how you speak. remember skaters are actual people and not a collection of tropes to blow out of proportion.
this has been a PSA
ETA: i feel like i need to clarify this, it’s not that calling shoma or other skaters a “bb” or “my child” is terrible on its own, but especially in shoma’s case it feeds into this perception of him as an actual child who doesn’t know what he’s doing and can’t make his own decisions. calling him “smol” and focusing on his height also feeds into it. take the costume thing for example, i thought loco 2 was ugly to the point it was distracting from his program, and since there was a feedback option on his website i decided to send him a polite message to consider keeping the old costume. somehow “dead chicken” got blown so out of proportion that as late as last week i was deleting asks about it from my inbox. like half the periscope comments on shoma’s CDP videos were about his damn costumes. the joke turned from “lol shoma has no fashion sense” to “LOL SHOMA IS DUMB AND CAN’T MAKE DECISIONS”. there’s been a rather alarming shift from appreciating shoma as both a dedicated athlete and dorky guy off-ice to simply talking about him as a “smol confused child”. i’ve seen tweets and posts that go way too far.
i am guilty of starting some of this/unintentionally making it worse. but i feel like this kind of behavior is starting to cross the line and i’m tired of seeing it for the past few months. i am not accusing everyone, i would just like people to examine what they say and do. i will examine and check my own words as well. it should not be that hard to know when you’re just being affectionate and when you cross the line into creepy and offensive.
and ftr, none of us actually know shoma. we don’t get to see inside his head or know what happens in his day-to-day training or why exactly he makes the decisions he does. we can speculate all we want but the fact is that we don’t know him and all we can really see of his personality is from interviews. he can indeed be spacey and a little weird. he’s also extremely mature and self-aware when it comes to many things, including his skating. it’d be really nice if we could focus on the latter point, as well.
Request: Reader is Charles Lee’s sister and John falls in love with her after she shows up at the camp, punches him in the face, and proceeds to yell at him for twenty minutes for shooting her brother. And everyone (literally everyone) is high-key terrified of her and John is just completely smitten with this amazing woman who just made his nose bleed.
Requested by anonymous
A/N: So I feel like this could’ve been five times better but I’m not sure how. I gave this a quick proof read so I probably missed a lot of things. I don’t have a lot of time to write/proof read right now. As an aside, I have ideas for like two other John Laurens stories that no one requested but could be fun. I’ll see if I can work those in sometime. But I wanted to post something, give you guys a fic so here’s this one. It was pretty fun to write though and I think quite a few people were looking forward to it. So I’ll stop prattling one and let you guys read it. Enjoy!
Word Count: 2,503 ~~ You gasped as a few men helped your brother into your house. “What happened?” You asked. But none of them spared you a glance. They unceremoniously dropped Charles on his bed. He grunted in pain but none of the men cared. They just walked out, still giving you no explanation. “Charles what happened to you?” You asked him. He had a bandage around his torso. It was getting soaked red.
“A dumb cadet challenged me to a duel.” He grunted. “And I lost…” He muttered.
“What? Who?” You asked. You were pissed. You were more than pissed. Charles was a general, and yet some idiot failed to treat him with respect.
“John Laurens.” He grunted out. You knew Charles lost his position as a general but you didn’t think anyone would try this kind of stunt.
“Who?” You asked him. You needed to know what this stupid idiot looked like.
“It’s not important.” Charles grunted out. “I know what you’re gonna try, so don’t.” Charles warned you.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You protested and crossed your arms in defiance. But your brother knew you well. In fact too well. You knew exactly what he was talking about but you were still gonna do it anyway. So once Charles fell asleep, probably due to the pain, you snuck from the house and out to your stable. You got your horse and rode to the camp. No one knew you, much to your luck.
This show was about fifty percent Dan going, “Wow, all my insecurities are on display.” and fifty percent Dan going, “Wow, I love my partner and the things I do with him and that is also on display.”
He very obviously fucking loved doing that pastel edits video, and also very obviously feels like that is not something he should be allowed to love, like it does not hit the quality threshold that he feels his critics hold him to - and the heavens and earth would come crashing together before Dan acknowledged for more than the amount of time between one breath and the next that the praise he gets is just as valid as the critique sometimes.
A few things I loved about the liveshow:
- His pride in Phil being inventive. He literally searched youtube to see if anyone has ever done a pastel edits video before. (And no, they haven’t.)
- All of the unbidden Phil remarks. What are you wearing, Dan? Phil calls it my parachute jumper. Do you like mac and cheese? Well, neither my mum nor Phil like cheese. Will he wear a tattoo out? Phil wore his to the dentist. Does that one stubborn curl have a name? Not Babe the Pig, despite Phil trying.
- Shade at straight guys who don’t like the pastel edits, followed by what I think was an attempt to be eloquent expressing his opinions on heteronormativity and the dangers of a patriarchal society. I’d love to hear his thoughts if he actually prepared what he was saying ahead of time, but I really appreciate the message he’s putting out there.
- Not avoiding Valentine’s Day but bypassing the opportunities to insinuate he’s single. Not that I really expected he would, but if he felt like throwing up some walls he had the chance - and he chose not to.
- They can’t commit to Vidcon Europe or SITC because they have “some plans for the year” but are going to the Australia thing because “me and Phil just really want to go back to Australia, and stop somewhere along the way” jesus christ they’re so married or at least in the planning stages.
- And hands down the best part: Dan raving for a couple minutes about the facebook header he made that @degnam drew. All shall love manged and despair. Especially Dan.
Notes - I actually
wrote this on request of a fellow shipper, a shipper romantic of heart and
hating of how season 7 ended. And she
had a collection of ideas that she wasn’t able to get down in story form. So she asked me to do it for her. So I did.
The events of the last couple of days have left me
desperately worried about Scully and that worry has driven me to refuse point
blank to allow her to come back out to Oregon.
And even as I held her in my arms right there in the
corridor outside skinner’s office, all efforts of propriety tossed out the
window, no longer afraid that our carefully kept secret would be out, I knew
that there was something she wasn’t telling me.
Her assertion that she was exhausted didn’t cut ice with me
because in the eight years I have known her, I have seen that woman literally
running on empty, so used up that she had nothing left to give, grey with
fatigue, stumbling almost blindly beside me, she never ever admitted to anyone,
least of all me, that she was too tired to go on. Never once had I seen her go down in the way
she had just a few short days out in the Oregon woods as my heart literally
seemed to jump right out of my chest when I had turned around to find she was
no longer following me. That panicked
headlong re-tracing of my steps hearing the ragged way I called her name, the
barely cloaked desperation born of the realisation that suddenly she was just gone.
And when I burst through the undergrowth to be confronted
with the sight of her laying boneless and unmoving on the thick carpet of lush
green grass and dead leaves that covered the forest floor, for just one
terrible moment my mind told me that she was dead. So many times she has almost been taken from
me, the sight of her down, with no apparent reason, had caused all rational
thought to desert me.
You are dead fucking wrong with that last anon post. I do not hate on Richonne but I'm not that crazy about it. And I am a black woman. I find Danai to be fucking gorgeous. But I don't care for Richonne that much... Did enjoy your blog until you labeled all anti Richonne's that way...
Firstly, are you fucking serious, mate? (Sorry, that’s the language we’re using, yeah?) I have Richonne as the first thing listed in my blog description; they are in my avi; I literally write fic and meta about them all the time. Like, why are you on my blog, which states I am an avid fan of Richonne if you don’t like Richonne that much? I call bullplop.
You’re obviously not here for the Indigenous issues I also post about (and judging by the number of followers I have and the lack of notes on my posts regarding Indigenous issues, I say most people either don’t care or are here for Richonne exclusively). So, if you don’t enjoy my blog for either of these things, you’re here trolling.
Secondly, I didn’t label anybody anything. That ‘anon post’ you’re referring to now was not my answer. It was from another person who had to answer an Ask about antis and their 'opinions’, which was brought to said Richonne shipper. See my point? You don’t like Richonne? Cool. But why the fuck do you antis have to come to the blogs of people who do enjoy seeing them and talking about them with your 'opinions’? Honestly, no one around here cares, and that’s me saying it nicely. So please do yourself a favour and find something you actually enjoy to occupy yourself with. I cannot stress this enough. Stop going out of your way to let it be known that you don’t like a pairing on a TV show. There are a bunch of ships I don’t like, but you’d never know because I don’t go above and beyond to talk about them.
And lastly, if you genuinely dislike Richonne, but not for those surprisingly common and gross reasons, then I am sure that post wasn’t about you. If you are not one of those people that use those excuses or engage in that obtuse and transparent rhetoric, then that post was simply not about you. Keep scrolling and move along. The problem is that anti-Richonners just always have to point out that they are anti, and have come up with weak excuses to mask other things, like racism and misogynoir; if that doesn’t apply to you, then the post wasn’t about you. Simples. I have to go now; you should too.
Okay so I just got this imagine idea. Basically it would take place during a ball and it features Severus and the person who he has feelings for(she likes him back,neither have had the courage to speak up yet)somehow they end up dancing toghether. While she is distracted Severus glances at her and whispers "Beautiful" at the sight of her, when she turns to ask what he said he covers it up by saying that he meant the music.I haven't thought of an ending but please write it!Doesn't have to be long
Severus Snape stood at the corner of the ballroom like a particularly ill-tempered shadow, practically itching to leave.
Truth be told, he hated Ministry functions- all these disgustingly smug Ministry bastards in their disgustingly expensive robes rubbing shoulders with others like themselves gave Severus the worst sort of indigestion. Though he had no appetite, he was, in fact, holding an empty champagne flute that he’d unceremoniously emptied at least three times in a nearby bush simply to avoid having to be asked for the fifty-millionth time if he’d like some hors d’oeuvres by one of the over-eager Ministry house elves.
He sighed heavily when the champagne flute refilled itself as though by magic and glared at the nearby house elf, who’d frozen mid-snap. With a slight wave of his hand, he dismissed the elf, who looked as though she was about to start boxing her own ears right then and there for displeasing him before disappearing with a sharp pop. Severus took a step to try and explain that this wasn’t necessary, but then he realized that since it hadn’t worked on all of the house elves he’d grumbled at over the years at Hogwarts for trying to be helpful and making things worse, it probably wouldn’t work on her either.
The only reason he was at the stupid event was because Minister Shacklebolt (damn him!) had told him that the galleons he’d be receiving along with whatever the bloody award of the week was this time were contingent on his attendance. He looked up at the ornate clock near the far side of the ballroom and sighed. There were still forty-five minutes until midnight, and Severus only had eyes for the Ministry’s clocktower. Once it chimed even a single time, he could finally disappear from this godforsaken place like a sour-faced Cinderella.
He snorted into the champagne flute at the thought, pretending to be in the middle of drinking it to avoid yet another overstuffed Ministry official who looked like he was about to come over and talk to him. He’d worn his blackest, least-ornate robes, the buttons fastened all the way up to his chin like armor against being considered sociable or in any way conspicuous. He looked over at the other recipients, which were basically a bunch of the members of Dumbledore’s Army (the wankers, he thought, all dressed up like they’re playing at being like their elders), and some of the other professors from Hogwarts. Minerva had already saved him a couple of times from nosy gawkers, but she was in the middle of dancing with Phineas Fickleboro, the esteemed Transfiguration researcher from Istanbul, and Severus knew that she wouldn’t be able to save him if someone happened to find him in his concealed space behind the fat marble pillar in the shadows of the ballroom.
A buzzing near his ear made him flinch and he swatted at it instinctively. Unfortunately, he forgot that he was holding the champagne flute with champagne still in it, and ended up pouring it all over the place.
There was a loud thump as something heavy hit the ground and a shrill squeal assaulted his ears, making him wince.
“HEY! What the feck do you think yer doin’?!”
Severus knew that voice. He turned his head slowly, as if this would change the truth of the person who lay sprawled out on her back, her robes drenched in champagne.
“Miz Skeeter. Apparently, you have taken my previous instructions to buzz off rather literally,” Severus said, stepping back and glowering at her. “Good evening.”
He swept off, hoping that he looked like he was stomping away in fury instead of fleeing. Skeeter had been merciless since his survival had come to light- following him everywhere during the day and having Prophet interns tail him at night. The damn woman was a pest who was obsessed with writing unflattering articles about him. Normally, Severus wouldn’t care.
He’d been called worse by friends, after all, and Skeeter was no friend.
However, he was also in the process of having several new potions patented, and plans to open his own owl-post apothecary, so he was doing his best to avoid as much negative press as was possible.
“Mr. Snape! A word, please!”
Skeeter had apparently found her wand and cleaned herself off, for she was following after him at a frightening speed. Severus turned away from her to find that he was mere inches from the dance floor. A murmur of interest filled the room and Severus felt his cheeks growing warm with embarrassment, but at the next bellow from the harridan behind him, he forced himself into the crowd of dancers.
Suddenly, someone had taken his hand and he felt himself spun around to find Minerva’s laughing eyes and cat-ate-the-canary smile as she led him away from the livid journalist.
“Thank Merlin,” he said, before he could compose himself, “I was beginning to think that bitch was going to cast a Permanent Sticking Charm.”
Minerva chuckled. “Well I knew that it would take a fairly extreme situation to get you out into the light of day-”
“It’s half an hour to midnight, Minerva,” Severus replied, unimpressed.
“Be that as it may, it’s good to see that you’re finally putting all those years of teaching Slytherin House to dance to practice, even if it’s little old me,” Minerva continued, twirling him out and then bending him backwards in her arms.
“You do know that I’m supposed to be the lead,” Severus said, once she pulled him up out of the dip, his cheeks going slightly pink.
“You’re three decades too young to lead me anywhere, and you know it,” Minerva chuckled as they two-stepped towards the other side of the dance floor. They stopped and clapped politely with the rest of the crowd as the music ended. “Now, then, what are your plans for the rest of the evening?”
Severus was about to reply when he felt a finger tap gently on his shoulder and he spun abruptly, his eyes widening with surprise. There, before him, stood a young woman who looked rather familiar, though he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.
Her hair was short, though ringlets of chestnut brown hair curled around her face in a wild sort of way that filled Severus with a strange heady sensation in his belly. She wasn’t heavily powdered or garishly dressed. There was a simplistic, natural air to her that he instantly envied, but she carried herself with a power and confidence that made her look older than her years. Her eyes were golden and seemed to shimmer in the light of the many candles floating above them.
Instantly, Severus found himself transported back to his stammering, awkward, teenaged self.
“Severus, you’re gawking,” Minerva politely whispered to him, and he shut his mouth, which had been hanging open and making him look (he was certain) like a total moron.
“Good evening, Minerva, Mr. Snape,” the woman said, curtseying slightly
“Good evening, Miss Granger,” Minerva said kindly.
“Please, I’ve told you a hundred times that it’s fine to call me Hermione. I feel like a first year when you call me that!” Hermione laughed, and Severus noticed that her teeth were even and white.
His mind flashed back to his cruel words about her teeth, before, and he hated himself just a bit more than he usually did.
“Old habits die hard, Miss Granger, but I’m sure that there are others who can be more easily persuaded to change their ways,” Minerva replied, a very peculiar smile playing across her lips as she looked at Severus and then looked at Hermione and back to Severus again.
“What?” Severus asked pointedly, glaring at Minerva, who waved mildly and melted away into the crowd, leaving him behind before he could stop her.
“I’m didn’t wish to bother you, Mr. Snape,” Hermione said, turning her bright eyes on him and completely stopping his scowl in its tracks, “but I saw you and I just needed to thank you to your face. You saved my life, you see…and-”
They both abruptly turned towards a horrible screeching sound.
“THERE YOU ARE, SNAPE! THOUGHT YOU COULD ESCAPE, DID YOU!?” screamed Rita Skeeter.
Hermione turned away from him for a moment, placing her body squarely between him and the practically rabid journalist, her hands moving up to rest on her hips.
And then, an odd thing happened.
Though Hermione hadn’t made a sound, Rita’s expression went from full of fury to bug-eyed with fear. Slowly, she backed away and then, when she’d reached the nearest doorway, she turned and practically ran out of the building as fast as her legs could carry her.
Hermione turned back, her face still midway between the intimidating murder-scowl she’d obviously been aiming at Skeeter, but when she finally looked up at him, her face had returned to the almost radiant picture of joy. She had protected him, but not in a way that he’d needed to ask for like some groveling, simpering fool. It filled him with a dangerous, pleasurable warmth and he couldn’t bring himself to look away from her.
“Beautiful,” he breathed out, before he could keep the thought from escaping his lips, and then, “Shite! I mean…the music is…er…beautiful…and…er…I was just going-”
His cheeks burned with embarrassment and he stared up at the cursed clock, which seemed to have only moved a minute or two past the half-hour mark. Damned thing. Hermione laughed, but it wasn’t a derisive sound. On the contrary, she sounded so merry that he almost joined in.
This was it. He must be going mad.
She held out her hand. “If you wouldn’t mind, I’d love to have this dance. These Ministry functions are so boring, but it looks like you know what you’re doing, and besides, it will pass the time so that we can both get back to our research.”
This got Severus’ attention as he took her hand, leading her back onto the floor as the band began to play a downtempo waltz. “Research?”
“Yes,” Hermione said, mirroring his lead fairly well, though she was obviously about as rusty as he was. “I’m doing research on Ancient Runes and their usage in perpetually renewable charm energy. Unfortunately, there’s not a lot of money in the field even though it’ll be dead useful once I finally get it up and running. Hence my attendance at this pompous affair.”
Severus nearly fell over. It had not occurred to him that anyone other than himself (Minerva, perhaps, but she always enjoyed seeing everyone and was far more social than he would ever be) would feel similarly, much less need the money for ostensibly interesting (although complicated) research projects. Thinking about his own research made him realize something important.
“So…er…,you mentioned that I…helped you,” Severus said awkwardly. “What, exactly might it have been?”
Hermione smiled mysteriously and Severus felt his heart skip a beat. “I’ll show you if you’d like…when we’re done with this dance.”
Severus swallowed a mysterious lump that seemed to have appeared in his throat, and he willed his palms not to sweat. The way that she said those words was both seductive and innocuous. It was maddening not to know which it was.
And though he was trying very hard to tell himself otherwise, Severus really, really wanted to find out.
The song ended as soon as the clock struck midnight and Severus blinked rapidly, wondering where the time had gone.
“Thank you, Mr. Snape,” Hermione said, curtsying slightly.
“It’s Severus actually,” he heard himself say.
“Well, then, Severus-”
“Oi! Mione!” The slurred speech came from their left and they both turned to see a stumbling, drunken Ron Weasley being held barely upright by a sheepish looking Harry Potter. “G-weh from th’ git thar.”
Hermione let out a huff of exasperation and stomped over to Harry.
“He got into a drinking contest with a centaur,” Harry explained. “She won.”
“She godda mostest perdy trac’s o’ land,” Ron hiccuped. “I wanna ride ‘er like a pony. Coconuts ‘n everythin’…giddyap!”
“I shall forever regret taking him to see Monty Python and the Holy Grail,” Harry groaned. “Mind lending me a hand? I’m about ready to hex him.”
“C’mon, Ron, let’s get you home before you hurt yourself again,” Hermione sighed, her expression beyond exasperated.
It wasn’t until after she’d disappeared into one of the giant floo fireplaces with her two friends that Severus finally realized that he still did not know what she had meant to show him.
Or if he’d ever see her again.
“Come on, Severus,” Minerva said, clapping him heartily on the shoulder, “you’re free to leave now, or did you forget while you were mooning like a lovesick teenager over your dance partner?”
“I was not mooning!” Severus snapped, pulling away from her in a huff.
“Your lovesick expression says otherwise!” Minerva called out from behind him.
“She’s far too young!” Severus shot back. “It’d be disgusting.”
“You know what’s disgusting?” Minerva asked. “People who hide behind faulty logic to avoid their feelings.”
“HAH!” Snape practically yelled. “Perhaps I prefer logic! Logic is safe. Feelings are for dunderheads!”
He finally reached the border of the wards and Apparated away, his ears still burning with embarrassment as they picked up the sound of Minerva’s knowing laughter echoing through the cold night air after him.
“You didn’t have to stay for the after-party to get the monetary incentive for this award,” Minerva mused, handing him a glass of sparkling cider. “And yet here you are. And in some rather new-looking and well-tailored attire at that. Curiouser and curiouser.”
“You do know what they say about curiosity and cats, MInerva,” Severus replied with a sniff.
“Don’t be such a drama queen,” Minerva replied. “You’re merely feeling a bit twitterpated, is all. It’s not the end of the world.”
“That still remains to be seen,” Severus quipped back dryly.
A rather handsome wizard appeared, bowed, and reached out his hand. “May I have this dance, Mademoiselle McGonagall?” he said, his voice thick with a prominent accent.
“Oh, it’s been years since I’ve been a Mademoiselle,” Minerva giggled. “I’ll be sure to keep an eye out for your Miss Granger on the dance floor, Severus.”
“She is not my Miss Granger,” Severus growled irritably.
“That remains to be seen,” Minerva replied with a wave as she was whisked off to the dance floor.
In the end, though he diligently searched for her, she found him again. He turned, trying to force himself not to grin like an idiot when he saw her standing there, her eyes sparkling.
“Hello again,” she said. “Are you…okay?”
“Why do you say that?” he asked.
“You look sort of like you’re in…pain?” She tilted her head slightly and he had to bite his tongue not to make an embarrassing squeeing noise.
“Oh, I’m quite all right,” he managed to grit out, “You know how it is.”
“Actually, I’m glad that we both decided to stick around. I’d hoped we could have another dance.” Hermione blushed and Severus tried to avoid locking his knees. It would not do to keel over in front of her, after all.
“Indeed,” he replied, taking her hand and trying to mirror what he’d seen other wizards with proper etiquette training do.
“I must admit, I am looking forward to it,” he said, twirling her around gently, not daring to look her in the eye when he said it.
“Oh?” she asked.
“The…thing you mentioned…that I helped you with?” Severus wanted to disappear into his shoes. He’d been practically obsessing about it for the past few weeks, but he’d had very little luck guessing at what it could be. But what if he was overreacting? Blowing things out of proportion? Hermione seemed to be humoring him with her smile and her sparkling eyes, but what if she-
“Well, while we’re admitting things, I was a bit intimidated by you at first,” Hermione admitted, cutting off Severus’ frenzied thoughts instantly, “but now that I’m talking to you, I feel rather silly about having been afraid. You’ve definitely changed for the better, Severus.”
Severus could feel his cheeks flushing at the sound of his name. Normally, he disliked how harsh his first name sounded when spoken aloud, but Hermione made it sound beautiful.
“What about your two male cohorts?” Severus asked, trying not to let any overt malice enter his voice. He did not want them to interrupt yet again.
He’d seen the headlines earlier that year regarding the big, public fight that had ensued after Weasley had asked for Hermione’s hand in marriage, and she’d refused politely, citing her desire to continue her studies before settling down. Potter, on the other hand, was determined to force Severus to join his happy family, much to Severus’ dismay. He sent letters, cards, and even tried to visit his house from time to time. Severus had become very skilled in the art of pretending that he was never home.
“Oh, they’ve been up in the VIP room for ages,” Hermione replied, gesturing to the stairs that wound up on the side of the room and opened up into some sort of second floor atrium with charmed glass windows that shone brightly with magic so that the people on the other side could see out but no one could see in. “That’s where all the good food is, and they don’t make you dance.”
Severus glared up at the windows, as though he’d be able to see into them if he did so, but they remained opaque.
“Harry has a hard time going out in public without either being assaulted by rabid fans or attacked by people who want to be the one to kill the guy who killed Voldemort.”
Severus winced at the name out of habit though his arm did not actually hurt when she said it, thanks to his patented Cursed Wound Salve. He’d begun work on it immediately after he’d realized that his cursed snake bite and the faded Dark Mark still had some residual power left in them that left him with debilitating pain, especially when the weather changed. It had taken him almost a year to perfect it, but after he had finally erased the lingering reminders of the two biggest mistakes of his life, he’d slept soundly ever since.
The song finally ended, and he found himself being led easily by Hermione out to a balcony where they could be alone.
“Don’t worry,” Hermione assured him, “This won’t take long.”
She grinned at him conspiratorily, and before he knew it, he found himself smiling back at her. This revelation made him blush, which made him feel increasingly out of his depth. Then, she pulled out her wand, warding the doors shut and turning back to him.
Instinctively, Severus felt his fingers itch to curl around his own wand. He didn’t like being backed into a corner without an escape route, even though his bloody heart was shouting at him to shut up and stop being so goddamn suspicious all the time.
“I’m sorry,” Hermione said, noticing his discomfort, “but it was necessary…I don’t want anyone to disturb us.”
She pulled her arm out of her sleeve until she was bare up to her shoulder and showed him the clean flesh on her upper arm. “During the war, Bellatrix tortured me and carved a word with a cursed knife right here, but thanks to your salve, it’s completely gone. It…it really helped me heal in more than one way.”
Severus immediately felt guilty about all of the amorous thoughts that he’d been harboring. Here he was, looking at her like a regular letch and she had just wanted to show him how well his potion had worked.
“You can touch it if you’d like,” Hermione said, indicating the soft skin on the side of her upper arm. The way she looked at him was pure sex, and Severus had to stomp on his other foot with one dragonhide boot to refrain from doing as she’d said.
“Actually, I would like to cast a diagnostic spell, if you would let me,” he replied thickly, pulling out his wand and waiting for her reply. The truth was, he didn’t trust himself to touch her. It was too dangerous. It was already dangerous enough to look.
He cast the spell, moving his wand over the length of her arm, marveling at how there was not even a trace of the curse left over. Without thinking, he gently placed his fingers against her skin and ran them over the space she’d indicated earlier. Her skin was soft and whole.
“Beautiful,” he breathed again, this time not bothering to apologize. It was, after all, true.
Hermione let out a soft noise, something between a purr and a sound of agreement. When Severus looked up at her face, he noticed that her pupils had blown wide as she watched his fingers sliding against her supple, silken skin.
“Also,” she said shyly, “I used it on this one as well, and it…well…I hope you don’t mind me showing you…”
This time, she seemed to hesitate before moving to unbutton her plain brown robes down to her waist. Pulling them to the side enough to show a flash of her bra and her sun-kissed skin underneath, Severus inhaled sharply.
The massive scar- the one he’d helped Madam Pomfrey heal after that horrible night in the Hall of Prophecies- it was-
“Gone,” he said, his voice cracking slightly. His fingers reached out as though of their own accord, to touch the space between her breastbone where the thick cord of cursed scar tissue had been. This time, as he traced his fingers against the softness of her skin, she shivered with delight and made a soft panting noise, obviously enjoying his attention.
“You have to understand,” Hermione gasped, “I wanted to write you a letter and leave it at that, but I couldn’t…I had to…I had to see you…let you…”
“Hermione,” Severus bent forward, his breath clouding against Hermione’s cheek, “I…I do not think it is wise for me to keep doing this.”
She angled her head up so that his breath came hot against her lips, which were as flushed as her cheeks. “And why is that, Severus?”
He shivered to hear his name said in such a way. “Because…I…I want to…I…”
Hermione nudged her way upwards until her lips nearly touched his. “But what if I told you that I wanted you to?”
Severus was inordinately glad for the ward on the door behind them as he firmly pressed his lips against her with a moan loud enough to warrant casting a Muffliato for good measure. Her fingers curled around his hips gently and he sagged into her, letting her pull him against her with a sigh of need. Trailing kisses down her neck, her ran his tongue against the naked skin of her arm in the place that Bellatrix had marked so cruelly. Hermione kissed him everywhere she could reach as he kissed her, holding her tightly as he did so. There was something about her that had drawn him in from the beginning, but here, now, it was a lesson in holding back against his overwhelming desire to take her then and there.
Her fingers were sliding down the slight gap around the waist of his trousers and he moaned loudly into her mouth at the pleasure this brought him. Even with his long, imposing robes, he always wore trousers underneath, but at the moment, he was very much regretting having them.
“If we don’t stop soon…it might go too far,” he panted, as she began undoing the buttons at his neck.
“I don’t care,” she replied ardently, “This may be my only chance to see you…to properly…to let you know that I…”
She kissed him firmly and pulled away with great effort. “I’ve read all of your papers. They’re brilliant. Your potion for cursed scars saved my body, but it also saved my mind. I was having flashbacks, nightmares, pain…it was hell. Anyone who can make such an amazing item and sell it at such a modest fee is someone I can’t help but feel for, especially in light of…everything.”
“Well, then, let me prepare a rebuttal,” Severus replied. “You are gorgeous.” He kissed her nose. “You are kind.” He kissed her cheeks. “You are smart.” He kissed her lips. “And you are a force to be reckoned with.” He kissed her chest above where her heart lay. “I came to this damnable function because I needed to see you again. I would be an utter dunderhead if I walked away from all of that in the name of propriety.”
With that, he kissed her mouth deeply, his mind going blank with pleasure. Behind them, the clock began to strike midnight and Hermione mewled with delight underneath him.
“Shall we?” Severus asked, pulling away, his wand at the ready.
“Oh, yes, please,” Hermione replied, her eyes half lidded.
His heart hammered in his chest as he grabbed her tightly around the waist and they Disapparated just as the last stroke of midnight faded away.
Please don't attack me but I've been scrolling and I'm confused as to what happened today?? I was busy all day and i come back larries are mad at each other for not buying Harry's album?
Hey Anon. A blog I follow and reblog from (you can figure out which one by my reblogs probably) got an anon from someone who said they were frustrated with Sony and babygate and wouldn’t buy Harry’s album. She posted it.
Then a bunch of big bloggers got all pissed off and started indirecting, called her a c***, screamed that anyone who doesn’t buy Harry’s album should leave the fandom, etc. They started posting all of these messages about how you shouldn’t boycott Harry.
Except nobody, literally nobody, was talking about a boycott. They know this. But they’re loud and they’re manipulative and their posts get a lot of notes, so people believe them. (Which is funny since they are the same blogs who swore Harry wasn’t going to go solo, babygate would be over last year, etc.)
It is, as you expect, the same bloggers who always agree with each other. They all piled on and attacked.
So if you see any emotionally manipulative posts about how a boycott does nothing, or harms Harry, or harms queer kids, or won’t help, etc–they were all part of today’s attack.
All because someone posted an ask from an anonymous person who said they weren’t going to buy Harry’s album.