no foam she said


mythology moodboard: aphrodite, goddess of love, desire and beauty.

Aphrodite is the Olympian goddess of love, beauty, pleasure, procreation and eternal youth. She was also a protectress of sailors. The poet Hesiod said that Aphrodite was born from sea-foam. Homer, on the other hand, said that she was the daughter of Zeus and Dione.

Touch Starved Tony

This is the first draft, I might so a full rewrite of it eventually and post it on AO3, but for now have some Ironhawk fluffiness.

Tony Stark was a genius practically from birth, put in the spotlight by both association and skill. Nobody was surprised when the rich boy started sleeping around with college kids years older than he was.

Tony remembers being 4 years old, circuit board grasped in tiny fingers. He remembers his father’s arm around his shoulder.

He remembers being 6 an engine on the counter, and his father’s hand on his shoulder, a smile on his face. He remembers Jarvis, and a lot of hugs.

Then he remembers boarding school. Remembers kids’ years older than him who only ever reached out to remind him that he was weakest among them. He remembers teachers who sneered when he corrected them.

He remembers Christmas break and the first hug he’d had in months. He remembers every Christmas break after that and the warmth of Jarvis arms.

He remembers Obie’s hand on his shoulder the day his parents died. He remembers thinking that he would never get a hug from Jarvis again.

He remembers having sex for the first time, he didn’t know her name, heck he barely knew his own name. But he remembered the feel of her skin against his.

He remembers the day he realized people only touched him when they wanted something. With women it was either sex or money, with Obie it was new weapons, and more professional behavior. He remembers realizing that he didn’t particularly care what they wanted if he got even a second of contact.

He remembers the day he realized that Rhodey didn’t hug him with intent. He remembers the day Rhodey shipped out for the first time.

He remembers a string of one night stands and the feeling of flesh on flesh. The feeling of warmth.

He remembers the day he returned from Afghanistan and realized that with the open vulnerability sitting in his chest sex wasn’t an option anymore.

He remembers dancing with Pepper. Remembers holding her in his arms. He remembers letting her go when she asked him to.

He remembers killing Obie, remembers knowing the man had tried to kill him. He remembers mourning the side hugs, and encouraging pats on the shoulder.

He remembers the day the Avengers agreed to move in.

“Jarvis, Jarvis, are all of their rooms ready? The passive surveillance is all set up so they don’t get uncomfortable? And Steve’s is all retro? Natasha has the memory foam bed right? She said she liked memory foam. Do you think they’ll like it?” Tony babbles, he hasn’t slept in three days, ever since they agreed to move in. He had to get everything ready.

“Of course, Sir. All of that has been completed. I am sure they will love it.” Jarvis assures him. Tony nods, trying to settle, hands flying up to fix the mess his hair has become. “Good, good, do I need to shave? I should shave.” He heads for the elevator, fingers tracing over the messy ages of his beard.

“Sir, this is not a date I do not believe shaving is necessary.” Jarvis cuts in, halting Tony on his path to the elevator. “Also, your guests are here.”

“They’re here! Jarvis why didn’t you tell me? Take me down to the lobby to get them.” He spends the elevator ride trying to fix his hair, it doesn’t seem to have done much good.

“Hello Mr. Stark, thank you for inviting us.” Steve says, hefting his duffle bag up on his shoulder.

“It’s no problem, and please Cap, call me Tony.” He says, gesturing for them to board the elevator.

“Still, nice of you to open your home to us.” Natasha says, smiling at him. Her eyes are searching though. Most likely for a motive.

“It’s not just my home now, it’s yours too.” He says, shrugging. Natasha elbows Clint in the least subtle way possible, and Tony watches, mildly impressed as he manages to keep hold of his boxes.

“Oh yeah, thanks dude.” Clint says, peeking out from behind a stack of boxes with Natasha’s careful script on them. “Okay, Natasha, you’re on floor 74. Clint you get 75, they do connect at multiple points and you can feel free to share space.” Tony says, hitting the necessary buttons and gesturing to the eye scanner. “Steve, you’re on 76, and I’m saving 77 for your friend.”

“Tony, we don’t need whole floors.” Steve protests. Looking at his duffle bag Tony suspects that is true, he’ll need to buy the man some clothes and things.

“Speak for yourself Rogers.” Clint says, elbowing the super soldier in the side. It probably hurt his elbow more than it did Steve, but it gets his point across. Tony elects to ignore both of them.

“Brucie-bear, you have 78, although the hulk room expands into 79. I put your lab on your floor because I figured it would be more comfortable.

“Thor gets 79, since he’ll be here the least he shouldn’t mind the loss of space. Common areas are on floor 80, and the penthouse is obviously mine. 81 through 84 are set up for Sam Wilson, guests, more guests, and Rhodey respectively.” Tony explains. “If you need anything from Jarvis you will have to enter the elevator or a common area, as I have set your rooms to passive surveillance only to avoid any discomfort you may feel.” The elevator stops and the doors slide open to reveal Natasha’s floor.

“No Jarvis beyond this point, but there is a top of the line security system so please try not to break any windows.” Tony says, stepping aside, Clint gets off the elevator while Natasha picks up her own stack of boxes and follows him.

It takes an hour to get everyone settled in. Steve thanks him profusely, and talks about how his floor is too much. Bruce thanks him quietly and disappears into his rooms. Natasha calls him kitten in Russian and smiles at him before disappearing into her rooms with a comment about dress shopping.

“Stark!” Clint is bouncing on the balls of his feet when Tony knocks on his door to check on him. “Stark! You built me an archery range on my floor? You are the absolute best!” For a moment, it looks like he’s going to hug him, and then there’s a warm weight of Clint’s hand on his shoulder for half a second. “God, I am never leaving this tower.”

“Glad you like it.” Tony says, trying to ignore how warm his shoulder feels. Trying to ignore how his heart is beating against his ribs. It’s been almost three months since he’s seen Rhodey, and therefore three months since someone has touched him in a friendly way. It feels better than flying in the suit ever does.

He’s not surprised with the lack of physical contact from the others. They were busy moving in, and he knows they all have their own hang-ups. It’s really not a big deal. He’s working on new armor for Steve now anyways, so maybe he can get a hug or something after.

“Stop kidding yourself Stark.” He grumbles, glaring at his reflection in the mirror. There are dark circles under his eyes, it’s probably time he actually gets some sleep. “They won’t want you. Not a team player, remember? Fucking talking to yourself in the bathroom mirror, no wonder you only have three friends.” He sleeps until well into the next afternoon, and then disappears into his lab.

“Sir, Captain Rogers is asking for you. He says the team wants to do dinner tonight in the common room.” Jarvis informs him.

“They want me to come?” He asks, there’s no one here but Jarvis and still the caution creeps into his voice. He can’t help but hide hope behind an air of nonchalance.  

“Of course, Sir.” Jarvis says. Steve had asked him to tell Tony to come, they clearly wanted him there.

“Tell Cap I’ll be there.” He says, hiding a smile in his work.

He goes to team dinner, and the next one, and training. He tries to live off of awkward brushes of hands, and sharp kicks for practice. He reminds himself that just because they are here, doesn’t mean they’ll like him. They don’t owe him hugs.

Tony was fine, really. Completely, and totally fine.

He finishes the first round of upgrade and eagerly calls them to the lab.

“I made things!” He says, a new quiver clutched in his hands. He’s practically vibrating with excitement, hugs are a relatively normal part of gratitude he could get a hug.

“Is that a quiver?” Clint asks, Tony hits the button on the side there’s a noise as the arrow head is attached. “Shit automated, what a beaut.” Tony blushes, handing it over. Clint snatches up his bow, practically running for the range. No hug. Tony turns to Natasha.

“Upgraded widow bites with stun, knock out, kill, and Thor settings.” He offers, holding them out to her, she grins at him, taking them from his hands.

“Thanks Stark.” She winks at him as she stalks out of the room. “These will be so useful.” She doesn’t hug him on the way out.

“Steve, new body armor. Less ab plating more protection.” He explains, holding up the new and improved suit. “Also, less zippers, that look was so nineties Steve you don’t understand.” Steve smiles at him.

“No, I don’t, but I appreciate the new suit all the same.” He says, Tony beams at him. Steve claps a hand on his shoulder as he leaves. Tony tries to pretend the warmth is enough. Revels in the feeling from that small touch. It’s not enough, maybe if he makes them more gear.

“You look tired Tones, maybe you should get some rest, you can show me Hulk’s gift tomorrow.” Bruce offers, he’s so kind. If Tony looked bad enough he might help him to bed, hold onto him. It would be nice.

“Yeah, I’m going to go to bed.” He mumbles, the pattern continues. Tony remains cold, and untouched.  They fight bad guys, they eat dinner, and nobody hugs Tony.

The suit was gone, ripped off in the battle. He was beaten up, a little bloody but still standing when the witch landed in front of him, lobbing a ball of what he presumed was magic at his chest.

“Let’s see how the world likes you when your deepest desires spill from your lips. How will they feel knowing how perverted you are?” They asked, Tony’s jaw ticks as he clenches it shut. The witch disappears.

“Your darkest desire, huh Stark?” Clint teases. “Can’t be too bad. Want to sleep with a man? Want to kill someone on the team? Want to kill one of the villains we fight?” Tony’s vibrating with frustration, desperately trying to remain silent.

“Clint, stop.” Natasha scolds. “Your desires aren’t you as a person, no matter how dark we won’t blame you.” She assures him, standing on the rubble strewn street. Tony turns wide eyes to Steve and Bruce.

“We won’t.” They assure him. He relaxes his shoulders slightly, his mouth parting against his will.

“I want a hug. Please, I just, I just want a hug.” He begs, face flushing with embarrassment. It’s so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Tony’s head drops, eyes tearing up. “I understand. I know it’s weak, I’m sorry.”

“A freaking hug is your darkest desire?” Clint blurts out, taking a step towards him. Tony nods miserably. “A goddamn hug? How are you so good?” Tony finds himself wrapped in strong arms a moment later. “A goddamn hug.” Clint grumbles.

“I know it’s weak, and stupid. I’m sorry.” Tony whispers, he knows he should pull back, but he lets himself slump against Clint’s shoulder. Let’s himself be held.

“Shut up. You’re goddamn perfect. Your darkest desire is a hug Tony. That’s so ridiculously pleasant.” Clint grumbles, nuzzling into Tony’s hair.  

“It’s so dumb, you guys don’t owe me anything, I can’t expect hugs. I shouldn’t have. Got my hopes up, cause I’m dumb.” Tony mumbles, hands clenched in the back of Clint’s shirt. “You can let go now, I won’t be a bother.”

“Nope, we’re going back to the tower, and cuddling.” He’s surprised the others haven’t gotten over their shock and come to join the hug yet. “God, how did I not know you wanted hugs, I could have offered non-stop cuddles.” Clint laments. Natasha seems to have gotten over her shock, and she practically sprints over, leaping at them. Tony flinches just before she makes contact wrapping them both in a hug.

“Do not be afraid.” She grumbles. He doesn’t look at her, face still buried in Clint’s shoulder.

“I shouldn’t have assumed you’d want to hug me. Shouldn’t have asked. Don’t deserve it.” Tony mumbles. “Can’t expect hugs as payment. No buying people’s love.” The words come out like a mantra. She whacks the back of his head.

“You assumed I wouldn’t want to hug you idiot, not that I would. There is no harm in asking.” She scolds. Clint nods, puffing a breath of air into Tony’s hair.

“Didn’t want any of you to feel obligated.” He mumbles. Clint’s grip tightens, and he feels Steve and Bruce joining the fray, a warm line of skin across his shoulders and lower back.

“No, Tony. We don’t feel obligated.” Clint assures him. “Just guilty that we missed out on giving you something you need.”

“Don’t need hugs, I’m fine.” Tony grumbles, but he still hasn’t made any move to pull away.

“Shut up.” Natasha grumbles, Bruce nods in agreement, half asleep from the Hulk out. “You need hugs. Don’t worry, we’re happy to provide.” She steps on Steve’s foot when he doesn’t say anything in agreement.

“Of course, Tony, you’re our teammate, and our friend.” Steve says, pulling back slightly. The hug starts to pull apart then, leaving only Clint with Tony wrapped around him like a koala.

“I should let go now.” Tony mumbles, releasing his grip on Clint’s shirt. Clint frowns, they need to get back to the tower, but how to best do that without letting go, he slides his hand around Tony’s waist, hand resting on his hip.

“This okay?” He asks, squeezing gently. Tony nods with such ferocity Clint worries he’ll get whiplash. “Good, let’s get you home for some more cuddles.” Tony nods agreeably.

“Thanks Clint.” He mumbles. “You’re my favorite.” He’s not sure Clint heard, words buried in the archer’s shoulder. The walk home is warm, pleasant, and absolutely terrifying.

They’re almost to the tower before the panic starts to set in, fears arising that this was all just a show, and that once they get inside he’ll be back to feeling cold and alone in a crowded house. Even if it wasn’t a show, he’s clingy, he knows it. They’ll get sick of him.

“To the couch.” Clint announces, pushing Tony down on the cushions, and lying on top of him. The panic recedes. He’s warm, he’s safe he can enjoy this.

Tony is worried that they’ll get tired of how clingy he is, so he has a plan. He gets one hour with them every day and then he needs to either work or sleep. As long as he leaves the room before they get tired of him. It’s a good plan.

“Tony, won’t you hang out for a movie after breakfast?” Clint asks, sliding an arm around his shoulder. Movies are normally at least 2 hours long, which puts him over the hour limit on snuggle time.

“I’d love to.” He admits, “But, I need to work on the suit.” He leans into Clint’s grasp anyways. “I really should work.”

“Yeah.” Clint says. “You can do that after we watch a movie though, right?” Watching movies and cuddling is normal, so maybe he can do two hours a day, and it will be okay.

“Right.” Tony agrees. “I can do that.” Clint might not even want to cuddle anyways. Which would mean it wouldn’t count as part of his hour, it only counts if there’s cuddling, right?

“Awesome, I could use a couple hours of snuggling.” Clint cheers, dragging Tony into the den. Well, if it’s Clint’s idea then he can’t accuse Tony of being clingy right. “You’re so warm, perfect for snuggling.” Tony nods absently.

“You sure?” Tony asks.


He doesn’t make it back to the lab after the movie, Clint slides in another disc and they stay curled up on the couch for hours. As much as Tony wants to say no, wants to make sure Clint doesn’t get tired of his clinginess, he can’t. He can’t say no, not when Clint’s arms are warm around him. He just holds on, waiting for the touching to die down.

He spends months waiting for Natasha to stop hugging him every time she sees him, or Steve to stop awkwardly hugging him when he makes new things. He waits for Bruce to stop inviting him to yoga, and helping him with positions. He waits for Thor to stop greeting him with tight hugs that lift his feet off the ground. He waits for Clint to stop inviting him to cuddle.

He waits for months until he realizes he’s not waiting anymore. He waits until he realizes they aren’t going anywhere.

@ifdragonscouldtalk and @dont-hurt-tony-stark I know you like these, <3

Bad Habit [Billy Russo x Reader]

Characters: Billy Russo x Reader, Karen Page, Frank Castle

Summary: Unexpected encounters happen in unexpected places.

Warning: Explicit language

Word Count: 1662

Please tell me what you think! <3

Gif’s not mine

Originally posted by colleenwing

You chewed on your popcorn, eyes focused on the screen of your laptop as the male character ran after the girl in the rain, then pulled her closer to him and kissed her deeply, making you heave a sigh before your head shot up  upon hearing your name.

“Y/N, are you listening?”

“What?” You asked with a mouth full of popcorn, then swallowed it when your best friend shot you a look.

“Glad to know my work stories aren’t boring.”

“Oh no, I just…” You closed your computer shut and put it beside you, turning to look at her as she ran a hand through her blonde hair.

“Too late.” She said dramatically and you threw a pillow at her.


“Obviously you’d rather watch two people kiss-“

“I’ve been waiting for that couple to happen since season 1!” You defended yourself, “I zoned out, okay? Did Matt come to talk to you again?”

“I’m pretty sure Matt and his ex are a couple now, so no.” She shrugged, “I’m telling you, we weren’t meant to be.”

“But I liked you with him.”

“Not again.” She warned me, “And no. I ran into Foggy other day though.”

“Oh, how is he?”

“He was actually on a date. With Macy.”

You made a face, “What’s wrong with men in Hell’s Kitchen and their taste in women?”

“She helped us a lot, she’s actually a nice person.”

“No one could be that pretty and nice, except for you.” You stated and she shot you a look.

“You’re nice.”

“My point still stands.” You shrugged, “So? What were you saying?”

“I’m supposed to write a piece on Billy Russo.” Karen stated “Ellison thinks it’ll be good for paper.”

“Who’s Billy Russo again?”

“He’s-uh…” Karen reached out to get some popcorn from the bowl, “He used to be in the army and now he runs a successful company called Anvil. He worked with Frank.”

“As in The Punisher?”

Karen nodded, “Anyway, Ellison thinks it might be good for his business and our business.”

“So you have to interview a rich prick?”

Karen shrugged, “He was Frank’s friend. How bad could he be?”

Neither you nor Karen had to wait so long to get an answer to that question. While you were cleaning the tables your phone was buzzing angrily in your pocket with Karen’s numerous messages about how Billy Russo brushed her off after making her wait for an hour, telling her he was busy. Thankfully, it was not a busy day in the coffee shop so you had plenty of time to text her back, trying to calm her down.

“Y/N? Can we switch?” Your coworker Liz asked you and you turned to her.

“Sure, what’s up? Asshole customer?”

“I have a date waiting for me in my break.” She motioned at her face, “Can’t mess up my makeup before that, and playing around with steam is a dangerous zone.”

You wiggled your brows, “Is he cute?”

Liz tried to repress a smile, “He has his moments.” She said and you handed her the tray which you used to pick up empty coffee cups from the tables.

“There you go. I can mess up my makeup as much as I want, hashtag single life.” You joked and she made a face,

“Your Prince Charming will come as soon as you stop with those jokes.”

“So never?” You said and walked to the counter as the tiny wind bell made a soft sound from the door and you pulled your hair up into a ponytail, then filled the foam cup for the customer in line and put it in front of her.

“There you go, have a nice day!”

The girl grabbed the foam cup from the counter

“You can keep the receipt.” She said and walked away as you rolled your eyes,

“Great, I’ll add it in my collection, how fucking generous of you..” You mumbled, scrunching up the receipt in your hand and threw it to the bin before hearing someone clear their throat.

“Welcome to Julie’s-” You raised your head and as soon as you did, you stopped talking. The guy standing in front of you looked like some sort of a model, jet black hair carefully styled, a mischievous light shining in his dark eyes. His suit was half covered by the long coat he was wearing, but you were sure that it was more expensive than everything in the café at the moment. His lips pulled into a small smile that allowed you to see his white teeth before he licked his lips, such a small gesture but it somehow made your heart beat faster, before you realized you were blatantly staring and shook your head slightly, your cheeks getting crimson red as you cleared your throat.

“How- how can I help you?” You stammered and he leaned towards the counter.

“Coffee, black. And I’ll take the receipt.”

You shut your eyes for a second, biting your lip hard enough to hurt and wondering if it was too late to ask God to send a sniper in your way so that you could stop dying of embarassment.  

“Sorry about that.” You mumbled and he shrugged,

“Hey, no problem. Wouldn’t want to be accused of being generous.”

“Ehm- That’ll be 4,5.” You gulped averting your eyes and went to prepare his coffee while he followed you with his eyes, making you clumsier than you naturally were and when you placed his cup on the counter, he placed a hundred on the counter. You pulled open the cash register but he waved his hand dismissively.

“Keep the change.”

You gawked at him, “You’re leaving me a hundred dollar tip?”

“Well, it’s less than a hundred.”

“People don’t drop 95,5 dollar tips.”

“What can I say? I really like good customer service.”

You felt the burning spreading from your cheeks to your chest as you blinked dumbly.

“Thanks.” You muttered, as he kept his eyes on you, making you gulp loudly, “Um- your- your coffee will get cold.”

“I know.”

“So why-why aren’t you-?”

“I’m waiting for my receipt.” He stated and you took in a deep breath, ripped the receipt from the register and placed it in front of him.

“Thanks.” He took out a pen from the inner pocket of his coat, turned the receipt over and scribbled something before pushing it slightly to your direction with a smirk.

His number.

You couldn’t help but to smile “I can assure you, the coffee isn’t that good.” You mumbled while you held the receipt as if it would disappear anytime and he sipped his coffee, leaning against the counter again silently.

“So what name will I save the number under?”


You bit on your lip, feeling as giggly as a highschooler with a crush,

“You’re not gonna give me a surname so that I can stalk you on the internet and make sure you’re not a serial killer?”

That seemed to make him chuckle, “Honest, aren’t you?”

“That and mediocre coffee are the only things I can offer.” You tried to joke, “So? Billy what?”

“Billy Russo.”

You could almost feel your eyes getting bigger as you snapped out of the temporary bliss and gawked at him.

“Oh no.”

He raised his brows, “You have already checked if I’m a serial killer then?”

“No I-“ You took a deep breath “I was supposed to spit in your coffee or something.”

“You know, I’m beginning to think customer service is not really your forte, have you considered a career change?”

You shook your head slightly, “It’s just- my um- my best friend has been cursing your whole existence since the morning.”

He shot you a quizzical look and you heaved a sigh.

“Karen Page.”

“The journalist?”

You nodded “She says you stood her up, at your company- Advil?”

“Anvil, and it wasn’t intentional, a meeting came up.”

“So you stood her up in a professional way?”

He shrugged, as if it wasn’t a big deal and you licked your lips.

“You might want to take your phone number back.” You placed the receipt on the counter, already regretting it, but he made no attempt to take it back, instead he just sipped his coffee.

“You’re that loyal to your best friend?”

“That, and I don’t get along well with filthy rich people.”

“Yeah? How come?”

“As a principle.”

He nodded, deep in thought.

“I also don’t get along well with rich people, so we have something in common already.”

You tried to repress the smile pulling at your lips.

“You don’t get along well with your social circle?”

“You don’t even know if I’m filthy rich.” He mimicked you and you snorted.

“Uh huh- How much is your coat again?”

“That’s not very appropriate; you don’t see me asking you how much that hideous apron is.”

“It’s free, came with the job.” You stated, making him smile and he licked his lips.

“Tell you what.” He said looking you in the eye and you felt like you were going to melt from the intensity of his gaze, “Your friend will get her interview, if you call me back.”

You gawked at him, “Wh-what?”

“I’m free tomorrow between 2 and 3, she will have a whole hour.”

“No excuses?”

“No excuses.” He nodded “In fact, why don’t you join us? You and I can go grab a bite after she’s done.”

You gawked at him and he took one last sip as another customer walked inside.

“See you tomorrow, Y/N.” He said silkily and threw his empty foam cup to the bin, then walked out of the café. You pulled yourself together after staring at the closed door for a couple of seconds, prepared the new customer’s order, then grabbed your phone from your pocket and found Karen’s number.

“Hey,” You said as soon as she answered. “We need to talk.”

Part 2 is here! 

Crows give gifts to 8 year old who feeds them

Eight-year-old Gabi Mann from Seattle, Washington started feeding the crows in her family’s garden in 2013, and now this lucky little girl gets gifts from the crows.

Gabie keeps her gifts in specially labeled bags tucked safely inside a bead storage box. After all, these are her most treasured possessions. Her labels are detailed, for instance one containing a broken light bulb reads: “Black table by feeder. 2:30 p.m. 09 Nov 2014.”

Gabi started feeding the neighborhood crows by accident, as she was prone to dropping food. She’d climb out of the car and a chicken nugget would fall off of her lap, prompting every crow on the block to circle in for a snack. Gabi noticed and started rewarding the bird’s quick and hungry behavior, feeding them food scraps on her way to and from the bus stop with her brother.  Her mother encouraged her generosity and provides peanuts and food scraps to be distributed each day along with fresh water in the bird bath.

Before long small, shiny objects started showing up by the bird feeders.  The crows were showing the little girl that they appreciated her consistent feedings.  Gabie has received all kinds of gifts from the crows, including Lego pieces, beads, buttons, paper clips and pieces of foam. Her favorite gift of all is a pearl colored heart, she said, “It’s showing me how much they love me.”

Craft Store Crazies

So a lady came up to my counter yesterday and was asking for a 40 by 60 piece of mat board. I do not have that, the only thing I have is foam core. I told her this. She just… Stared at me I have no idea what she wanted from me. I asked her if she wanted the foam core, and she said no she needed mat board. She told me that she “just got it like 6 months ago.”

I’ve been the manager there for a year, and we have not had it. I suggest that maybe she got it from a different craft store, there are four in my area within 10 miles. She insists that she got it from here, and just made intense eye contact with me, staring.

Eventually I was like “ma'am I cannot help you I do not have it” and she said “this is ridiculous,” and walked into my shop, and asked where we kept it.

Like, take a fn hint, bitch.
Time's 2014 Person of the Year Ebola Fighter Dies in Liberia
She died a victim of Liberia's broken medical system and the lingering stigma for those who survived the disease
By Aryn Baker

The 2014 West African Ebola outbreak killed 11,310 people. Liberian nursing assistant Salome Karwah was not one of them. The disease that tore through her town in August of that year took her mother, her father, her brother, aunts, uncles, cousins and a niece. But by some miracle it left Karwah, her sister Josephine Manley and her fiancé James Harris still alive. 

But just because Karwah escaped Ebola, it didn’t mean she was secure against the failures of Liberia’s broken medical system. She died on Feb. 21, 2017, from complications in childbirth and the lingering social stigma faced by many of Ebola’s survivors.

Karwah used to joke that survivors had “super powers” — because after overcoming the disease they were forever immune from it. Like any superhero, she often quipped, it was her moral duty to use those powers for the betterment of humankind. So as soon as she recovered, she returned to the hospital where she had been treated — the Médecins Sans Frontières (MSF) Ebola treatment unit just outside of the capital, Monrovia — to help other patients. Not only did she understand what they were going through, she was one of the rare people who could comfort the sick with hands-on touch. She could spoon-feed elderly sufferers, and rock feverish babies to sleep.

When I met Karwah, in November 2014, she, her fiancée, and her sister were already planning to re-open the family medical clinic that had been forced to close when her father, the local doctor, succumbed to Ebola. She envisioned a kind of super-clinic, whose survivor nurses would able to go where other medical personnel feared to tread because of their immunity. “I can do things that other people can’t,“ she said then. "If an Ebola patient is in his house, and his immediate relative cannot go to him, I can go to him. I can take [care of] him.”

It was her determination to help Ebola patients when most of the world fled in fear that put her among the Ebola Fighters who were named TIME Magazine’s Person of the Year in 2014.

At the time, Karwah seemed invincible. When the outbreak in Liberia ended, and people could have a party without fear of catching the virus, she finally married her fiancé, changed her name to Salome Harris, and had her third child. She picked the name Destiny. Then she got pregnant again. On Feb. 17 she delivered a healthy boy, Solomon, by cesarian section. She was discharged from hospital three days later.

Within hours of coming home, Karwah lapsed into convulsions. Her husband and her sister rushed her back to the hospital, but no one would touch her. Her foaming mouth and violent seizures panicked the staff. “They said she was an Ebola survivor,” says her sister by telephone. “They didn’t want contact with her fluids. They all gave her distance. No one would give her an injection.”

Karwah died the next day. “My heart is broken,” says Manley. “Salome loves her children, her James. The one-year-old, the newborn, they will grow up never remembering their mother’s face.”

Manley doesn’t know what caused the convulsions, but believes that something went wrong in the surgery. Still, she says, if her sister had been treated immediately, she might have had a chance. Instead, "she was stigmatized.”

News of Karwah’s death rippled far beyond her small community in Liberia. Those who knew her for her tireless cheer in the MSF Ebola treatment clinic were devastated. “To survive Ebola and then die in the larger yet silent epidemic of health system failure… I have no words,” says Ella Watson-Stryker, a MSF health promoter who worked with Karwah in Liberia and was also among the Ebola Fighters on the 2014 cover.

Jily: Begin Again

I posted this at one point last year and now can’t find it and want to bring it back for Jilytober. So…here it is. Jily drabble inspired by Taylor Swift’s Begin Again.

Took a deep breath in the mirror / He didn’t like it when I wore high heels / But I do

Lily took a deep breath and glanced at her reflection one last time in the full length mirror Marlene had propped against the dormitory wall. Her red hair was pulled back in a long plait, with a few escaped wisps curling around her face. Her green eyes stood out against her white jumper and black skirt. Lily took a step back, reveling in the sharp click her heeled boots made against the floor. She had just begun wearing the boots again. Severus had never liked it when she wore heels; it irritated him that sometimes she would appear taller than him. Lily shook her head to dispel any thoughts of her ex-best friend. She stood straight and squared her shoulders, looking her reflection dead in the eye and smiling.

Turn the lock and put my headphones on / He always said he didn’t get this song / But I do, I do

Lily snatched her cloak out of the heavy trunk next to her bed and walked towards the dormitory door. Before she left, she hesitated for a moment, eyeing the enchanted record player in the corner from which Paul McCartney’s voice trickled. She really ought to shut the thing off, the others were already in Hogsmeade with their dates. And anyways, Lily thought bitterly, this song depressed her. She had loved it when she had first heard it, but even now Severus’ sneering face came back to her, accompanied by his familiar hiss “I don’t know why you listen to such silly trash.”

Lily stiffened at the memory and set her jaw before turning abruptly and flinging the door open. She marched down the spiral staircase to the tune of Hello, Goodbye.

 Walked in expecting you’d be late / But you got here early and you stand and wave / I walk to you

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Virago - an ffxvrarepairsweek entry


Pairing - Ignis/Aranea

Rating - M for swearing and mature themes

Warnings - None. Save for silly banter between these two

Summary - Aranea gatecrashes Iggy’s romantic date.

He’s being stood up.

He just knew it.

An hour and a half had passed, and she still hadn’t shown up. Even the roses were starting to look wilted.

To think that he’d carefully planned this out too. Dinner at the five-star Il Palagio, featuring the breathtaking view of the Altissian waterfalls. It would’ve been even more perfect if she was there.

Ignis checked his phone. No messages, no missed calls. Perhaps she’d forgotten? She did mention that she was really busy lately. He was contemplating on giving her a call when someone suddenly swooped in and took the seat that was meant for her.

“Excuse me, I believe you have the wrong-” he began, then stopped.

Aranea stared back at him, chin in hand as she gave him a most disparaging look.

“Well, well…” she drawled. “Aren’t you a pathetic diorama of sadness?”

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kirawords  asked:

Do unto others before they do unto us. Shitty/lardo please

Shitty and Lardo were cleaning up from the Fun Fair Fundraiser when, at the same instant, they both spotted it. In the “pie a hockey player in the face” booth (one of the most popular attractions), there sat a single, perfect, unused pie tin full of whipped cream.

Shitty saw it, and he saw that Lardo saw it. They both locked eyes for an instant, suspended in time.

Shitty dove for it. Something hit his ankle. He tumbled down. The next thing he knew, he had Lardo straddling his waist and a face full of soft, sticky foam. A satisfied cackle came from above him.

“Sorry, Bro,” she said. Shitty wiped his eyes and opened them to see her gleefully regarding the mess that was now dripping into his hair. “I had to.”

“I respect that,” he replied, feeling stupidly in love. “I would have done the same.” He surged upwards and kissed her full on the lips, smearing the whipped cream all over them both.

–> Send me Trompts

Enochian - 200 Followers Celebration

Stop me from naming my fics, please.

This is from my 200 followers celebration.

Prompt: 2. Meaning behind my URL. // “What does that even mean?”

Characters; Dean x reader, Sam (small cameo), Cas (mentioned).

Warnings: Fluffy fluff, slight mention of sex.

Word count:587

A/N: After Where is my mind? I figured it would be the best to write some fluffy fluff in order to ease things a little. It’s short and cute and I hope you like it. Enjoy!

Dean literally bursted through the door of the bunker, frantically looking for (Y/N).

She wasn’t at their room. She wasn’t at the war room, and neither was she at the library. She wasn’t in the kitchen; she wasn’t in the living room. She wasn’t in the garage and she definitely wasn’t at the basement.

“Bathroom.” Sam said. Holding his brother by the shoulders to get his attention. The younger Winchester had been following his brother all around the bunker in order to let him know.

Dean nodded in response and ran to the bathroom, not allowing his baby brother to say anything else.

The shower was running, but the door wasn’t locked. (Y/N) trusted Sam and Cas not to enter the bathroom while she was showering, and she didn’t really mind Dean sneaking in. Therefore, she wasn’t surprised at all when Dean got in, locking the door behind him.

“Dean, babe, I thought you were out.” She said, letting the water wash off the soap’s foam from her body.

“I was, and I got a surprise for you.” He replied with an excited smirk.

“Can’t it wait?” The huntress asked, tilting her head.

“No, it has to be now.” Dean replied as he started to unbutton his shirt.

“Not that I don’t appreciate birthday sex, dear but…”

“It’s not what you think it is.” Dean replied with a chuckle. He dropped the shirt to the floor and walked closer to the huntress.

He had a piece of plastic taped on his chest. It was right over the heart, under the anti-possession tattoo. He took one of the tapes pieces out and lifted the plastic. There were some strange looking symbols inked on his skin. (Y/N) was sure to have seen similar symbols somewhere else before, but she couldn’t put the finger on it.

“Do you like it?” Dean asked excitedly. The girl tilted her head, trying to figure out what it meant.

“It uh… It’s very pretty Dean but I uh…” And even when she thought her indifference would hurt him, Dean’s smile didn’t even fall a bit. Instead, his cheeks blushed and his eyes sparked.

“It’s in Enochian.” He said. The girl pressed her wet fingers over it lightly. Dean’s skin was still swollen due to the little time that separated the tattoo session and that exact moment.

“I knew I had seen it somewhere but uh… What does that even mean?” She furrowed her eyebrows as she looked back up to him. He had become even more excited. He held her hand in his, took a deep breath and bit his lips.

“It’s your name.” He replied with a loving whisper.

The huntress joined his excitement. She gasped loudly as her cheeks blushed; her eyes travelled down at the tattoo; the letters were so beautifully drawn that it was hard to believe it was her name.

“Cas showed me how to write it and I…”

“I love it.” She mumbled, looking up to his green eyes.

“You do?” She nodded in response and, before Dean could figure out what else to say, she threw her arms around him.

She was naked, wet and leaving a bunch of little kisses all over Dean’s face. His jeans soon got wet enough to force him to remove them and before they could notice it, both of them were under the hot stream of water, kissing like never before.

“Dean?” She asked after breaking the kiss to get some air.


“How do you spell your name in Enochian?”

The meaning behind my URL: “Magical thoughts end in terrible fics” is what happens when you wake up after an awesome dream with your favourite character, and you think “This will be an awesome fanfic” so you go on, write it and publish it, only to find later that it’s not as good as you thought it was.

greek mythology meme: 5/6 olympians

aphrodite was the goddess of love. The Romans called her Venus (hence the famous armless statue known as the Venus de Milo). Aphrodite lived on Mount Olympus with the other supreme deities and was married to the homely craftsman-god, Hephaestus. She was said to have been born from the foam of the sea (hence Botticelli’s much-reproduced painting of the goddess floating on a seashell).

Carry On [0]

Genre: Mafia!BTS
Notes: I’ve joined the Mafia AU train! This is just a prologue-ish chapter (ft. Jackson from GOT7) ;w;
Chapters: 1 // 2

In a twisted world like this, all one could do was carry on.

“Double shot vanilla latte for [Y/N]!”

The moment your name was called, you made a beeline for the drink that the barista had put on the counter. Without waiting, you took the long awaited swig of your coffee as if was your only lifeline. You relished in the heat and slight bitterness of the drink as it slid down your throat; it was another little piece of heaven in your day so far.

“Isn’t that your third drink today?“ The barista behind the counter said as she was foaming up the milk for a different drink.

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French Roast

Ship: Lafayette x Reader

Request: “Ayyy fam hook me up w/ some Laf x reader? Reader works at a cafe and Lafayette always comes in and flirts with them and they write cute nicknames on his cup. Bonus points for bad/hilarious pickup lines.” - anonymous

Triggers: coffee puns

W/C: 1508

A/N: Nobody asked me to but I used Taylor The Latte Boy as inspo for this because I’m a fucking dweeb

Peggy Schuyler gripped your arm, forcing you to drop the cappuchino you were working on. You groaned as you watched the drink stain your white shoes. “Damn it, Peggy!” you spat in a low voice so the customers wouldn’t hear. She helped you clean up the spill, more anxiety growing in her voice, “Sorrrrry!” she stressed, “I think I broke the dishwasher, it started bubbling and then I heard the dishes start clanging and I don’t know what happened-” You sighed and gave her a warm look, “I will take care of it” you promised. Peggy was constantly in distress whenever you had a shift with her, she just couldn’t the hang of things. “Besides I’ve got to make sure everything is working before our horrible excuse for a manager shows up” you scoffed.

“Lee as a manager is a joke anyways. You should’ve been the one promoted, Y/N” you heard Dolley Payne say from behind her register. You smiled while handing her the finished cappuchino. “If he keeps leaving his shifts early I might as well be” you joked. Dolley laughed before Peggy slammed into your side, tugging your arm.

“Ow! What is it Peggy?” you asked sharply.

Your friend winked, “French cutie is here on schedule” she whispered.

Your eyes darted to the clock. 8:11 am. Dolley moved away from the cashier, pushing you into her place, “Go get your flirt on, Y/N” she nudged. Your jaw was left on the floor while the girls scattered behind the counter, pretending to make drinks as they giggled. You sighed, they did this everyday and you still hadn’t learned how to escape it. Or maybe I don’t want to … you realized as the tall frenchman approached you, his curls in a tight bun and face in a wide smile.

You smiled, greeting him as he approached the counter. Wow, eager much? You scolded yourself. His bright eyes pretended to scan the menu, even though he always got the same thing. “How are you, Mister um” your mind started going on red alert, had you never learned his name? “Mister.” you stated. It’s perfectly normal to call someone ‘Mister’, right? Without a last name included? You pondered.

He said, “Fine and my name’s Gilbert du Motier, Marquis de Lafayette.”

You raised your eyebrows, blurting out “Wow”

“But you can call me Lafayette” he blushed, “m-my name’s Lafayette and I’ll take a latte with extra foam” he asked, his kind eyes showing his embarrassment. You smiled while putting in the order, hoping Dolley and Peggy weren’t too busy eavesdropping to make his drink. He stood there, both of you smiling at each other until you heard someone clear their throat. Both of you began to make flustered sounds and Lafayette awkwardly stepped to the side, nervously patting his beard. Or slapping himself. You couldn’t tell.

“Hi,” You smiled at the new customer, “How are you?”

Lafayette shuffled around on his heels, waiting for his drink and looking at you from the corner of his eye. Say something, Gil. Tell her how pretty she looks or how well she handles the coffee cups … He shook his head, That would sound creepy don’t say that, cher Dieu… He snapped back to reality when you put his drink in front of him.

You blushed, “Sorry it took longer than usual, hope we didn’t make you latte”

Lafayette raised an eyebrow, “I’m sorry, what?”

“Like, you’re late.” you explained, wanting to shrivel up into a ball, “I was saying I hope we didn’t make you late because of how long it took because you see my friend Peggy is still in training and she doesn’t know how to use the foam machine so when you said extra foam she accidentally-” Lafayette put his hand on top of yours, slowly pulling the cup towards him, “You’ll have to teach me more of those jokes, mademoiselle.” he whispered.  You let go of the cup, stammering a response. He smiled with a wink and quickly took his drink and left the shop, his long legs bumping into multiple people at once.

He looked down at his cup that read “La Baguette” and smiled.

You ran your fingers through your hair and looked at Dolley and Peggy, who were both giggling. “What do you think, Dolley?” Peggy asked while misspelling names on cups. Dolley smiled as she accepted change from a customer, “Well if you ask me - Y/N needs to do a better job at espresso-ing her feelings” You rolled your eyes, “Har, HAR”

“It’s 8:09” Peggy announced in a singsong tone. Even as you told Peggy you didn’t care, you couldn’t help but check your reflection in the coffee pot. Dolley smiled while shaking a jar of coffee grounds in your face, “Oh come on, Y/N - everyone knows you have cofFEELS” she laughed. Peggy and Dolley high-fived.You ran your fingers through your hair, laughing nervously.

8:11. You heard the bell of the door opening and pushed Peggy out of the way of the register. Dolley snickered behind you. Lafayette greeted you with a smile, his eyes looking extra tired this morning. “Hi, how are you?” It was routine to start off orders like that, but you were genuinely interested in the tall boy’s mood. His eyes met yours and his smile brightened the coffee shop.

“Incredibly tired, my boss is frustrated and we’re understaffed” he laughed.

You nodded in understanding, already making his double latte. “Well, BREW can do it!” you comforted, while mentally slapping yourself in the face. He chuckled, the sound of it making your heart skip. Blood rushed to your face as you added extra skim to his drink.  Lafayette began digging in his pocket, and you stopped him “Keep the 3.55” He smiled, “Wow - where have you BEAN all my life?” the frenchman laughed.

“Serving coffee” you answered as you gave the drink to Peggy so she could add foam. The poor girl spilled on herself, but you decided to ignore the mess and focus on Lafayette. He WAS the customer, afterall. “What’s your favorite coffee?” he asked you during his wait, not taking his brown eyes off you for a second. You tried to control your heartbeat while thinking.

“I really love espressos but I can’t have them, they keep me up all night” You admitted.

The frenchman laughed, “I could keep you up all night”

You blushed, stuttering, when Dolley came to your rescue saying “Triple latte is ready” You grabbed the drink, about to scribble his name on it before he put his palm over it, lowering the drink and grabbing your attention.

Lafayette leaned over the counter, “Would you like to go out after your shift, mademoiselle? I’m free whenever you are” You opened your mouth to respond, but were interrupted by the customer behind him clearing his throat. Peggy raised an eyebrow, scolding the other customer. The frenchman’s face fell as you took longer and longer to respond, and he moved to the side. You quickly scribbled on the cup and shoved it into his hand.

“Hi, how are you?” you asked the next customer in a monotone.

Lafayette sighed and took his coffee out of the shop, angrily walking to his car. George Washington was waiting in the driver’s seat, impatiently tapping his foot. He looked up and sighed in relief, happy to see the frenchman approaching.

“Sorry, sir” He mumbled to his boss while climbing into the passenger seat. George put his hand up, “Don’t call me sir so much, son, we’re friends.” he said while starting the car. “Don’t call me son” The frenchman mocked. George sighed, pulling out of the parking lot. Lafayette put his drink in the cup holder and leaned back in the seat, a frown still on his face.

“What’s wrong? You’re always happy when we come here” his friend asked him with stern eyes. Lafayette shrugged. “What’s that on your hands?” His eyes shot open and he looked at the cup, noticing that he smudged your message. Lafayette hit George in the arm, shouting in happiness and french.

“I’m DRIVING!” George shouted. The frenchman shoved the latte in his friend’s face, “EYES OFF THE ROAD, PÉRE!” he shouted. George drove the car onto the side of the road, angry drivers honking at him. He took the cup from him and read the note.

‘LafaYES - Pick me up at 3?’ was scribbled. George raised an eyebrow at his friend, whose smile was extra cheeky.

He raised an eyebrow,“I suppose someone has to find that accent endearing…”

K Return of Kings ~ Prelude: Neko Bathtime Trouble by Raikaku Rei

This short story takes place right after the events in Lock On drama (where Kuroh and Neko get attacked by random guys, obsessed with earning points in “jungle” app, on their way back from bar Homra where they went to grab something to eat and check on Anna on Neko’s insistence).

Neko Bathtime Trouble by Raikaku Rei

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Derek Hale x Reader

Imagine: Waking up to Derek and him taking you to work.

P/n: Homg, two in one night. It reminds me when I had to bang out papers the night before.

Ever since Derek started to open his heart to love again, he’s never felt more alive. Despite having a bad track record for psychotic girlfriends, he has never felt happier and right. They’ve been dating for 5 months now and everything has been going so smoothly. Honestly, he’s been feeling like he’s on cloud nine. He’s never ever felt this raw and open with anyone before, so he asked her to move in with him.

At first, he was really nervous about asking her. It was a really big step, and asking her to move in will completely expose his every flaw. Will she still love him then? But it’s been weeks since she’s moved in and he felt like that was the best decision he’s ever made.

Sure, he grew up being independent and taking care of himself. But having someone to depend on, and to be completely vulnerable made him feel so good. He’s beyond smitten and all the boys tease him for that. But what do they know? Because being able to wake up in the morning and open his eyes to see a beautiful angel sleeping beside him was heaven.

The sun poured into the loft, lighting every corner of the place with it’s bright sunny rays. Derek and (y/n) had their legs tangled with each others and sleeping ever so soundly. That is until the alarm went off, waking (y/n) up first. She groaned and blindly reached out to silence the alarm on her phone.

Her movements woke Derek up, which elicited a disgruntled groan from his throat. She rubbed her eyes awake, but they squint from the overwhelming brightness. Still half-asleep, she tried to wiggle out of Derek’s arms but he groaned and pulled her back. His arms tighten around her, and he childishly wrapped his legs around her, trapping her from getting off the bed. “Derek!” She whined in a scratchy morning voice.

He groaned and buried his head in the nook of her neck, his beard lightly scratched against her warm and soft shoulder. “Derek, I have to get ready for work.” She twisted around, trying her best to break free from his body trap. He groaned again, tightening his embrace. “Oh come on, Derek! I’m going to be late!” She scolded him and made another attempt to wriggle out.

He pressed kisses up along her neck, his lips brushing against her soft skin. “You shouldn’t move so much, or I’ll make you even later for work.” He whispered in his groggy morning voice beside her ear. She shivered from the way his breath tickled her ear. He captured her earlobe between his lips and lightly tugged, sending sweet sensations throughout her body. She gasped and playfully smacked his wandering hands away. “Derek! You naughty wolf!” She giggled and pulled away. He chuckled and released her. She got up and off the bed, straightening her silky lace nightgown out and headed for the bathroom to get ready for work.

Derek whined and groaned, clearly dissatisfied that she was leaving. “Can’t you call in sick today?” He shouted from the bed. She leaned against the doorframe of the bathroom with a toothbrush foaming with suds in her mouth. “No.” She said and continued to brush her teeth. He sighed and childishly pouted, a side he only shows to (y/n). “Why can’t we stay in and do nothing?” He whined. She rinsed her mouth and laughed at how funny his whining sounded with his deep voice.

“Well, unlike you. I have to work for a living.” She ran a brush through her hair and sauntered over to her suitcase to pick out a dress and blazer for work. Derek defeated sighed and thrashed around in bed. She chuckled and shook her head at his childish behavior. “Can I take you to work?” He sat up and ask after throwing a fit. “Sure babe, I would love that!” She changed out of her nightgown and into her dress and blazer.

So Derek threw on a t-shirt and jeans. After you were both ready, Derek drove you to work and parked right at the entrance. “I’ll be here to pick you up when you’re done. 6:30?” He asked, with smile that didn’t reach his sad, adorable green eyes. “Yep, I’ll text you if anything changes.” She said and got out of the car. Derek frowned and hurried out of the car so he could catch her before she went in. “I think you’re forgetting something.” He said with his arms crossed over his chest. She furrowed her brows and checked her purse. “No… I have my wallet, keys and phone.” She glanced up at him with confused eyes. “You’re forgetting something.” He nonchalantly pointed to his cheek. She playfully rolled her  eyes. “Oh you’re so cute.” She leaned up to kiss his cheek, but he turned his head so her lips ended up kissing his lips. He beamed and victoriously smirked. “You’re so sneaky!” She teasingly scowled and leaned up once again to properly kiss his lips. “I love you,” She said after breaking the kiss. He bashfully chuckled with a big smile on his face. “I love you too, babe. Have a good day at work.” He gave her a hug and sent her off to work.

Cat Burglar


It was time for bed, Stella was working a little too much on Steve again. The girl went to the bathroom to change and brush her teeth, while the man was sitting in bed… Waiting for her “Stop waiting for me” she said, with her mouth full of foam from brushing it. Then, she removed her hair tie and simply jumped into bed right after with nothing but her bra and underwear. Sitting with her legs forming an M or a W, depending on where you’re looking at her from “You don’t have to wait for me” she then added, as she cupped the man’s cheek and smiled at him.

Begin Again

Took a deep breath in the mirror / He didn’t like it when I wore high heels / But I do

 Lily took a deep breath and glanced at her reflection one last time in the full length mirror Marlene had propped against the dormitory wall. Her red hair was pulled back in a long plait, with a few escaped wisps curling around her face. Her green eyes stood out against her white jumper and black skirt. Lily took a step back, reveling in the sharp click her heeled boots made against the floor. She had just begun wearing the boots again. Severus had never liked it when she wore heels; it irritated him that sometimes she would appear taller than him. Lily shook her head to dispel any thoughts of her ex-best friend. She stood straight and squared her shoulders, looking her reflection dead in the eye and smiling.

 Turn the lock and put my headphones on / He always said he didn’t get this song / But I do, I do

 Lily snatched her cloak out of the heavy trunk next to her bed and walked towards the dormitory door. Before she left, she hesitated for a moment, eyeing the enchanted record player in the corner from which Paul McCartney’s voice trickled. She really ought to shut the thing off, the others were already in Hogsmeade with their dates. And anyways, Lily thought bitterly, this song depressed her. She had loved it when she had first heard it, but even now Severus’ sneering face came back to her, accompanied by his familiar hiss “I don’t know why you listen to such silly trash.”

Lily stiffened at the memory and set her jaw before turning abruptly and flinging the door open. She marched down the spiral staircase to the tune of Hello, Goodbye.

 Walked in expecting you’d be late / But you got here early and you stand and wave / I walk to you

 Lily’s stomach turned as she walked towards the Three Broomsticks. This was a mistake, a terrible, terrible mistake. What was she doing meeting James Potter in Hogsmeade? True, it wasn’t a date, but still, just because all their friends were on dates did not mean she was obligated in any way to spend the afternoon with him.

But she had promised Marlene she would try and get to know Potter this year, and she had gone through all the trouble of looking presentable. It seemed a pity to waste a rare weekday Hogsmeade trip.

Lily pushed open the heavy front door to the bar and scanned around for an empty table. She didn’t expect James to be there already. He was almost never on time to class, she didn’t expect him to be on time for something as silly as meeting her for a butterbeer because neither of them had managed to find a date.

The bar was crowded and Lily had just begun to worry she wouldn’t be able to find a table when a shock of dark hair caught her eye. She raised her eyebrows as she turned and saw James standing awkwardly next to a table in the corner, waving to get her attention. Without thinking about it, Lily raised her hand and returned the wave, her cheeks flushing as she did so. She took a deep breath to calm her racing nerves. Why was she nervous? It was only Potter. No one important. When her heart rate slowed she tentatively put a foot forward and walked over to him.

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