I’M DRUNK OR JUST BEING WEIRDLY EXPRESSIVE FOR A POINT/SARCASM Hooted Howled Yowled
I WONDER Pondered Voiced Wondered
OH, YEAH, WHOOPS Recalled Recited Remembered
SURPRISE BITCH Revealed
IT SEEMS FAKE BUT OKAY/HA ACTUALLY FUNNY BUT I DON’T WANT TO LAUGH OUT LOUD Scoffed Snickered Snorted
BITCHY Tattled Taunted Teased
Edit: People, I’m an English and creative writing double major in college; I understand that there’s nothing wrong with simply using “said.” This was just for fun, and it comes in handy when I need to add pizzazz.
The blackout is coming to an end today…and I have a few things to share. What it showed me- and realizing how bad the reposting issue has become.
During these two weeks I’ve witnessed a few cases:
-I’ve seen my art been being reposted without permission, mostly with ‘credit to the artist™’ or nothing at all on insta/vk/etc.
-I’ve seen my newer drawings with my new watermark being cropped from the picture with the same careless credit
-Someone even attempted to blur the whole thing and leaving a weird stain where the watermark should be (saved it before reporting just in case)
-Also youtubers have been monetizing my work without my knowledge. In some cases, they assumed that when I gave them permission to dub one of my comics, that it extended to having permission to upload other works of mine. An assumption that was completely wrong. So not only was I not informed that they were using more of my work, but they monetized it and gained money from my work. I no longer allow dubbing on my comic anymore because of it.
-Recently, I asked another youtuber to remove a dub they did long ago on one of my comics, and while they eventually removed it from their channel, it didn’t stop them from giving permission to other youtubers to repost MY ART. And while it was their dub, the foundation of that work was my art. No one can give others permission to use my art other than me. However just 4 days after that video was removed, it was reposted onto another channel and monetized. All this I had to find out from people telling me.
-And even worse—yes, it can get worse—yesterday I found out that one of the drawings I made for Adrienette month was being sold on phone cases on Aliexpress.
I never thought *this* will happen to me. Why would someone…do that? Why would someone make money out of our hard work while we create for fun to a fandom we love on our free time?
To be honest, after seeing this—I wanted to quit drawing for the fandom.
But I won’t.
As much as it hurts, the fact that there are people who don’t give a damn about the artist’s wishes and care more about their fat pocket—it won’t mean anything to them. For them I’m *just* another artist–it won’t hurt them losing another one.
I draw ml because I love the characters and the fandom. It makes me happy to see that I can make someone’s day a little better because of my drawings. I made friends through this fandom that became part of my everyday life and to be honest, they boosted my confidence. ML revived my dream again to study animation, it made me want to draw more and brought back the will to learn and improve. I have so many good things to say about the show, the people I encounter- you really changed my life, and I love you all!
And I don’t want this to end because of some nasty people who care more about their following count or the money they can make from a stolen illustration or a silly comic.
I’m just going to continue arting but not share everything…and make the watermark bigger.
So for other artists out there, I just want to share this information. This is just a drop of the ocean of what I have experienced in my short time of posting fanart online. As exciting as it is to have people dubbing your work or asking for permission to share your art on other platforms.
Ask questions, ask for links to their pages, look at how they conduct themselves online, check to see if they monetize videos (you can use apps like the heartbeat app to do this as some youtubers like to not share this information), give proper credit/link to your original posts, etc. Some people are looking to use you and use your art for fame, for money, for whatever, and its abuse. It abuses your copyright and hard work. This is something I do because I love art, I love the show, and I want to share that love with others. It is NOT something I create for others to take advantage of or steal…or sell, or to stick an advert on in order to make money.
“This is my favorite new coffee shop,” Hermione said, the bell over the door chiming softly as they stepped into the bright, high-ceilinged shop. “Go sit down,” Hermione pointed to an empty table near the counter, “I’ll order for you. I promise you’ll love it.”
Harry made his way over to the table and slid into a seat. It was the only empty table in the busy store, through everyone seated already had their drinks so of the two baristas only one was actually working, a young woman with her short black hair cut into a blunt bob.
The other employee was bent over a newspaper, folded in half at the crossword. He was tall and lean with impossibly white blond hair that would fall over his eyes whenever he bent over to fill in an answer. He rolled a blue pen in his long fingers, his brow creasing faintly in thought. Harry watched spellbound as the gorgeous blond tapped the pen on his mouth and then bit the end absentmindedly, his eye teeth sinking into the plastic.
Harry started and flushed, “Y-yeah?”
Hermione followed where Harry had been looking and grinned, “He’s cute.”
Harry groaned, “Please, no, ‘Mione.”
She rolled her eyes, “You’re no fun.” She dug around in her massive shoulder bag and pulled out a book, settling back in her chair and opening it to her place, “Don’t mind me.” she shooed at him with one hand, her eyes already glued to her book, “Go back to your staring.”
Harry felt himself flush, but despite his embarrassment, found his eyes pinned on the blond again. He had paused from chewing on the pen to press his lips together into a thin line and slowly relax them, tracing the shape of his bottom lip with the end of the pen.
The blond looked over at the black haired girl, “Hey, Pansy, what’s a ten letter word for 'smitten’?”
Pansy had her back to him, finishing their drinks, and shrugged dismissively.
“You’re absolutely no help whatsoever,” he retorted with airy dismay.
“Says the one doing the crossword instead of working,” Pansy muttered just loud enough to carry.
Harry bit his bottom lip and impulsively blurted out, “Captivated.”
Harry didn’t think the blond could be any more attractive until he looked over at Harry with the most amazing pale grey-blue eyes, framed by pale lashes only a little darker than his hair.
Harry swallowed hard, “A ten letter word for smitten, captivated.”
“Hmm…” the blond looked down at the paper and shook his head, “No. The 'ed’ at the end is right through,” he leaned over on the counter, “any other ideas?”
“Fascinated?” Harry said, his mind already winging ahead for other words that might fit, his hand under the table counting out letters of words.
The blond glanced down and then back up, a smirking smile on his mouth, “Nope.”
“How about….” Harry’s brow furrowed and he chewed his bottom lip, “…Infatuated?”
He glanced down and smiled triumphantly, “That’s it!” the pen scratched across the newspaper filling in the missing word.
Pansy bumped the blond with her hip and pushed two cups into his hands, “Be useful Draco,” she nodded at their table.
“Your name is Draco?” Harry asked as the blond walked around the counter carrying the two cups.
Draco nodded with a grimace, “Constellation names are somewhat of a tradition in my family.”
“Um, I’m Harry,” Harry said hurriedly as Draco slid the cups onto the table.
“Nice to meet you, Harry,” Draco smiled.
Hermione pulled out her phone, which absolutely hadn’t gone off, and said, “Well, would you look at that, it’s Ron. Sorry, Harry, I have to get going. Wouldn’t want to keep my boyfriend waiting.” She pulled her bag over her shoulder and put her book away in one smooth movement. She was was out the door before Harry could say a word.
He finally managed a groan and glanced over at Draco, his cheek feeling hot.
Draco was looking faintly flushed himself, “Well. That wasn’t subtle at all.”
“No, it wasn’t,” Harry agreed.
Draco went back to the counter leaning over and grabbing his crossword and pen. “I’m going on break, Pansy.”
“You’re an arsehole, Draco Malfoy,” Pansy retorted without looking up.
Draco came back to Harry’s table, “Is this seat taken?” he asked.
“No, not at all,” Harry said.
Draco sat down across from him, sitting the crossword down in front of himself and helping himself to Hermione’s abandoned latte, “A ten letter word for hopeful starting with P.” He tapped his mouth with the pen and then carefully wrote in, “P-e-r-s-u-a-s-i-v-e.”
“You do a lot of crosswords?” Harry asked.
“There’s a lot of downtime working here,” Draco said, one side of his mouth quirking up in a smile. He barely glanced down at the paper and said, “I need a four letter word for dinner and a movie.”
“A date?” Harry said after a half a seconds thought.
“I’d love to,” Draco said.
Harry let out a startled laugh.
“Too cheesy?” Draco asked.
Harry shook his head with a grin, “How about tomorrow?”
I learned like a year ago that fluffernutters are supposedly just a new england thing and that’s been hecking with me ever since then so pls reblog with where ur from and if u know what a fluffernutter is this is for science
I want to write about you– the man who makes my heart skip effortlessly. I want to let you know that writing this is not easy because writing means telling everything and telling everything means I will be transparent to you; you will able to see my soul through the words I’m about to utter.
I will write this because you deserve to be painted through words– I will let the world know how wonderful you are in my eyes and I will make you wonderful in their eyes. You thought you are not enough and you thought no one appreciates you, but for me, you are enough. You are more than enough. From the way you talk, the way you make me laugh, through the way you put a mini heart attack whenever you summon my name. Out of billions of people in the world and hundreds of people I know, you’re one of the few people who really cared about me and I thank you for that. You told me once that I deserve to be loved and to be happy, maybe I really do, because the way you told me that my mess is beautiful, I thought about that maybe, just maybe there’s always beauty in every particular things in the world including my mess. It was hard to see myself that way but whenever I think of the words you said, I feel like I need to believe you. And I will always be thankful that I’ve met you– and if ever one day you will leave me, the memory of you will be one of the best things that happened in my life.
Also, listen to Blackbear’s new album while listening to this preferably I miss the old you and make daddy proud trust me it makes it 100x better.
To be blunt, you were so happy that your family was rich. Your father was the CEO of a multi million-dollar company and your mother was a New York Times bestselling author. Put together, your parents made more than you could spend in ten lifetimes. This caused you to never have to work a day in your life.
As a child, you had a personal maid, Carla, who picked you up from your private school that your parents paid a lot for, made you your favorite snacks, and anything else you wanted. She would also read you to sleep at night since your parents were never home due to business meetings or events they had to go to. Carla became like you second mother, she taught you about boys and periods and other things a mother figure should teach you.
When you moved to middle school, you started to hang out with other rich families. You would hang out with the other children while your parents would talk business. You would brag about the latest electronic your daddy had just bought you just like the other kids. Your parents always wanted you to be better than all the other kids so they would spoil you with whatever you asked for and even what you didn’t ask for.
It reached a whole new level when you went to high school. Your mother hired you a tutor, but he would never teach you, but just do the work for you. You never said anything though, it was just work you didn’t have to do. You started to go with your parents to fancy parties and events which was your favorite since you got to go shopping for a new dress. Your daddy never gave you a price limit when you went shopping; he had given you a credit card in middle school and it had never been declined so you thought it didn’t have one.
You mother would set you up with boys from other rich families. All the children of rich families knew what happened when your parents would set you up. It was like an unspoken code. You would go to the event, laugh, dance and have a great time because you knew when the party was over you would go home with your date and things would get hot.
The only thing that changed when you moved to college is you stopped hooking up with the local rich boys and moved on to the frat boys. You went to parties every weekend, got shit faced, and on occasion hooked up with someone in the spare room. The school’s staff knew your parents so you never had to worry about your grades, but your father still hired you a tutor who just wrote your essays and took your tests for you.
When you got out of college, you had no idea what you wanted to do with the rest of your life but again you didn’t worry about it. You became a public figure and the face of brands who paid you a lot of money just for an Instagram post or to show your face at a party. You met Ross Butler on one of these brand deals. You were at a showing party of the new Netflix original show, Thirteen Reasons Why.
One of your girlfriends had introduced you to him, and when you made eye contact, you were instantly infatuated. He had this sex appeal that he carried around but he acted like he didn’t have it. When you flirted with him, it’s like he didn’t notice and he never flirted back. You were utterly confused since men had always shown interest in you.
It wasn’t until the third time you had hung out that you finally blurted out, “Do you not find me attractive? I have a been flirting with you nonstop since we met and all I have gotten back are a few compliments and one hug goodbye.”
He was shocked when you had confronted him like that. He just sat there with his mouth open, eyebrows scrunched, and stuttered, not being able to get a full sentence out. You got up in a huff and stormed out of his house. You were frustrated and angry that he had pulled you along like that since he was the one to invite you. You decided to treat yourself to a few new shoes to help calm your nerves.
It was about a week later when your butler had notified you that Ross was at your door and he wanted to talk to you. You really wanted to know what he had to say after he had basically turned you down. You had opened the door with a bitch face, “What do you wa-“ you started to say before Ross had rushed in and pushed you against the wall opposite to the door.
He had his hands on either side of your head and you could feel his breath on your face, “Princess, you have never had to work for anything in your life,” He paused and pressed his body against yours, “but tonight that’s going to change.”
The idea of working for something had never excited you like it did tonight. You let out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding and your heart started racing when he led you to the living room by your wrists.
He plopped down on a black leather chair in the corner of the room. He was wearing a simple white t-shirt and dark jeans with his legs spread out. He ran his hand up your leg which was exposed because you were wearing a silk nightgown with lace details. He held eye contact as his hand went higher up your thigh until he grabbed your butt.
“I’m not going to do anything, but sit here, baby girl, so get to work if you want something.” He teased as he took his hand off you and leaned all the way back in the chair. You looked at him with your eyebrows raised as to say, are you serious, and he crossed his arms over his chest and challenged you with his eyes.
You chuckled and rolled your eyes as you straddled his lap. You rubbed your hands up and down his chest and you pressed down your core onto his. You brought your lips to his neck and peppered kisses from his jawline to base of his neck where you settled on his collarbone and started to suck. You lightly grazed your teeth over the mark you made and he let out a raspy groan.
You started to fumble with the button of his jeans when he grabbed both of your wrists in his hand to stop you, “Did you not hear what I said? Princess, you’re going to have to work for your orgasm.”
You were confused for a second, not knowing what he meant. It wasn’t until he patted his thigh that you knew what he wanted you to do. You let out a huff as you moved to straddle one of his legs. You held eye contact as you started to rock back and forth. The roughness of his jeans making your eyes roll back as it contacted your bare core.
“I wish you could yourself right now, using my thigh to get yourself off.” His hands went to your hips and pressed down so more pressure would be on your clit. You let out a loud moan and your hands went to his chest to steady yourself.
“Fucking ride my thigh like the spoiled brat you are. Daddy can’t buy you out of this one, can he?” He teased. You started to move faster on his thigh as you felt a knot form in the pit of your stomach.
“Fuck, keep talking.” You managed to get out between pants.
“Baby girl likes when I talk? Of course, you do, you can’t do anything yourself, can you? I bet no one has ever made you work for anything so this must be hard for you, do you want my help?”
“Yes, please.” You begged as you felt the knot getting tighter.
“Ha, have you not listen to a word I’ve said? Fuck your daddy needs to pay for a better education if you don’t understand by now that I’m not going to touch you at all tonight.” He laughed while you gave him a desperate look.
“Oh, is the brat close to her orgasm?” He teased, “Come on come for me.”
You made eye contact with him as your orgasm took hold of your body and you collapsed on Ross’s chest as your body convulsed with the earth-shattering orgasm. You never felt anything like that before and it felt ten times better than your best orgasm.
“Princess, you’re not done.” He held you up and pushed you down to the floor in-between his legs. You knew what he wanted and you started to feel more comfortable because this was your forte.
You were still recovering from your orgasm as you ran your hands up and down his thighs skipping over the spot he needed you most. He let out a groan and mumbled, “Don’t tease me, princess”
You giggled as you unbuttoned his pants and slid them down his thighs. You peppered kisses all the way from his bellybutton to the band of his boxers while rubbing him through his boxers. He let out a muffled cuss word and put his head back on the top of the chair.
You pulled his boxers down and his dick sprang up and hit his stomach. You looked at him hungrily as you licked a bold line up his shaft to his tip where you took it into your mouth and sucked lightly. He grabbed your hair into a makeshift ponytail and pushed you down onto his erection. You took as much as you could into your mouth as he hit your gag reflex, your eyes started to water as he kept you there for a couple of seconds.
When he finally let you come back up, you were gasping for air but you went right back to his dick and started to swirl your tongue around the tip. When he started to let out a groan, you stopped and took your mouth away and continued to jerk him off with your hand.
He gave you a warning look as you connected your lips with his dick again and took a good amount of him into your mouth. He started to buck his hips up into your throat and you knew he was close. You paid attention to the underside of the tip with your tongue and your hands went to his balls where you played with them.
“Fuck, princess, your mouth feels so good. Keep going, I’m close.” He grunted. It wasn’t long before he shot his load into the back of your throat and you had no choice but to swallow it.
He looked down at you and smirked, “Working for it makes it better doesn’t it baby girl.”
You giggled and looked down with a small nod. He knew it had been as amazing for you as it was for him.
a/n- I know this isn’t relatable at all but oh well its what I wanted to write so. Also, tell me what you think about this in my inbox! I love hearing your feedback! Thank you guys for 1k I love you so much omg!
I’m tired of being sad and having no clue as to why I am this way, so I’ll write about the happy bits of me and why I smile. I dance when I’m alone, when the music gets just right and I’m sure that no one is watching, it’s okay to feel lonely, I used to not like the idea of it, but once you’re comfortable in your own skin even depression starts to feel like a breeze. I’m reading a book that says we are the beliefs and thoughts that we think and believe in. So if I say that I’m happy a thousand times, one of those will come back as true. So if I say I’ll find the love of my life some day, some day she’ll appear in front of me while I’m writing another poem. It’s good to have goals, the only goal I’ve ever had up until recently was to keep myself happy with someone else, that’s not a goal, but an illusion. You can’t live your life for someone else, it’s called your life for a reason. Happiness must happen when I say so, so I’m saying so. We bring into this world the kind of kindness that we’ve been dealt, so when I fake a smile, my mother is omnipresent. Although it’s not real, fake it until you make it, right? The book also says, spend more time doing things that make you lose track of time, so I decided to write again and more often than not, to not compare myself to others because once you start doing that, there’s no going back. I don’t write like someone else, I write like myself. I don’t think like anyone that I know, there’s just you and the beautifully twisted world, we’re all trying to find redemption inside of coral skies and trustworthy friends. I would break my own hand to contain my anger, it is contained. Happiness is what we make it, so if I say that it exists, then it will be so. Listening to your guidance, that makes me happy. You know who you are. Breathless to the words, you paint the sunrise with your pinky and promise that as long as I’m here today, tomorrow will not be filled with sorrow. I keep writing letters to the future person that I will be, I wonder if I’ll change. I probably will, we all do in one way or another. I’m the kind of person that snaps a picture of the sky while I’m driving, I’m reckless, but we’re still alive. Life’s too short and I need to be more careful, I’m certain that death has given up a few passes for me. Do you ever feel like you’re running out of time? Like there’s something trying to make a statement, a lost word that even google couldn’t even get its hands on. Do you ever feel like no one’s really listening? We’re all selfish in the end, but the ones that truly listen– they are the ones that I live for. I maintain online friendships better than I do with my siblings, I guess our thinking is just on different frequencies. On the topic of frequencies– the you that you would like to be is out there, you just need to listen. Hear the right words said by the right person and you’ll be in the right spot to be the you that you’d want to be in this life. Do you ever feel like you’re not good enough? Remember that thing I said about thoughts? Sometimes we just need to let go a little bit, embrace the art of it. To be left to the wind, the unknown will bring us to more adventures and you may not be loved by many, but there’s a chance that you will be– why not take it? I would like to break out of this, I want to smile more and to laugh a little louder, I just want to make myself proud of who I will be versus who I used to be. And you can’t turn back the hands of time, you cannot change your mistakes– they are permanent, but you are not. There is a fire inside of your chest and if you keep suffocating yourself with an indescribable pain then you’ll only suffer in a incomprehensible way. I just want to fill this world with more love and less pain, I see a butterfly and I’m easily distracted– how beauty will fly past you if you’re not even paying attention because you’re so damn sad all of the time. So I drop all signs of negativity and lean towards the positive, I am the only vibe that’ll alter my moods, so I must feel more wealthy than a million silver spoons even if I don’t have any, so I must create the art that likes to spill from my fingertips, we live such short lives– why not be the best version of yourself? Who will you be if tomorrow was your last day on this planet? Will you cry because it’s over? Or will you search the ends of the earth until you’ve found the fountain of youth? I’ve got a secret to share with you. You can be a 100 years old and still have the sweetest smile, you can be in your 20s and have a soul heavy enough to sink the titanic, life is strange, life is strange. We live our youth to buy pretty things, but live our oak days trying to make up more time– it waits for no one, the wrong turn will break you, a simple kiss will turn your thoughts into poetry and a life of self-hate is a road that needs constant validation– why not be your own way out? Be your own lover, be your own brand of music, be your own kind of poem, be your own story of kindness, and if you’re not perfect just look around– nobody is. I’m tired of dreaming, I want to build it instead. You can’t be who you want to be if you’re still having the same thoughts from last year– you can’t change or heal in the right way if you’re not willing to break a few pieces of your heart because the clutter inside of our minds often match the attitude that we give off. So like a quote, so like a poem, so like a bedtime story. If I repeat it enough times, I’ll be happy. I just want to be happy. I just want to let go of the bad feelings. I just want to love myself enough to see a brighter day. You can’t change the world if you can’t even change yourself, right? If I repeat it enough times, then it must be real. I will be happy. Sadness is a crucial emotion because without it, being delighted and euphoric wouldn’t be so dense, but that’s the beauty of the intensity to which we should love ourselves. I want to be so fucking glad to wake up today that it’ll just drown my depression into the white noise. I want to glow in the dark and live like the jellyfishes, give my poetry the immortality to always bring a smile onto the faces of those that love who I am even if I’m a bit flawed because at the end of the day– you’re the only one sleeping on your bed, you’re the only one who’s going to determine if you’ve got enough room to breathe, you’re the only one to have the last say if you’re art or not.
I wanted to write something happy for you–
yes, you. The person that’s reading this.
An anon asked for a Reid fic where the reader is British and he gets turned on by her accent. The team teases him for it and he eventually has to explain to the reader why he gets so weird whenever she talks. I love this request, I really hope you like it! Added in here a classic Spencer Reid Quote, shout out to anyone who can find it!
It gets smutty! Some fluff ensues at the end, it’s super cute!
UnBeta’d so sorry for any errors, also flood warning!
“As soon as Agent Y/L/N gets here, we are going to start the briefing,” Hotch said to the team, who were all still sitting around at their desks before disappearing into his office.
“Ready for the new team member, pretty boy?” Derek teased from his seat with a smirk.
“What?” Spencer asked nonchalantly. He knew Y/N was British. She’d been in for numerous interviews and when she was in the training field, all the other trainees were talking about the ‘British Bombshell’ that was joining the BAU team.
“You know what,” Derek replied.
“Does Reid have a thing for accents?” Prentiss asked. She looked at the genius with playful eyes.
“No, he has a thing for British accents,” JJ said, shaking her head.
“I see,” Emily said with a smirk similar to Derek’s.
“I don’t know if I like the looks on your faces,” Rossi said as he walked up. After inspecting the teasing smiles of the three agents, he clocked the blush on Reid’s face. “What’s wrong with you, coffee catching up to you this morning?”
Maxine Alderton at the Emmerdale: Anatomy of a Hit event tonight, talking about the moment she realised and discovered there was an entire active fandom for robron out there during the abuse reveal scene she wrote back in January 2016.
Ok so I’ve been thinking a lot about these tweets…
I think I’m faster to forgive than the average person, at least from what I’ve seen, but at the same time I don’t want to be some enabler that sweeps bad choices under the rug like they don’t matter.
Yes, he should’ve never auditioned and taken the job, and continued in that job feeling so guilty about working under a man he believed in his heart molested children. I am upset about that…
At the same time if you were in his place, and the guilt slowly built up until you realized you couldn’t take the money, you couldn’t keep quiet, you had to let the world know what you did– you would have to agree that he did the best he could do after the fact, not being able to go back in time and make it right. He donated his salary, he didn’t have to be so public about how much he believed Woody was guilty, or how much he regrets it. He could’ve been vague about it, feigned ignorance about Woody’s personal life, something to save face a little. But he’s showing true remorse by admitting his cowardice and not making excuses. He’s opened himself up for criticism and he’s not arguing against it, he’s just letting the hate come because he’s upset with his own choice, but all he can do now is apologize and make it a point to recommit himself and stick to his word. The fact that he tweeted that he never wants to compromise his principals like that again means he’s letting us hold him accountable from here on too. We can all point back at it and throw his own words at him if need be.
And when it’s all said and done, I’m kind of a coward too, I can’t imagine being in a contract with a major movie, only having a little role in one scene, and snubbing a major hollywood player as a newbie. I can see myself trying to think up loopholes why it was ok to continue. “It’s a small part, it’s not like I’m supporting the actors around me”, “I really need this movie”, “Most people in this business are horrible secretly” and any number of excuses would be on my mind. I’m glad he didn’t make those excuses in his tweets at all. He just faced the fact that if he believed it was true about Woody, he shouldn’t have chosen to work in his film.
A/N: I’M BAAAACK!! It’s the 2 month anniversary of this account and we’re a squad of 523… a number I never thought I’d reach let alone reach in 2 months so thank you my lovelies xx I thought I’d greet this 2 month hiatus return with a hella long imagine x so enjoy reading and send me imagine requests (i’m only answering ships every thurs) xx
“Sirius wins.” You announced, standing up from your leaning position on the wall.
“No way!” James protested, panting.
“I have an unfair advantage. You see these cheekbones? Aerodynamically suited for speed.” Sirius said, somehow he said it seriously. ‘Well those cheekbones are sharp’, you found yourself thinking.
You rolled your eyes and started walking around the sofa, spotting Lily as you did so. “Hey Lils.” You smiled.
“Hey, oh sit, I want to ask you something.”
You winked at James who was practically drooling over Lily and sat down. Eventually, you’d satisfactorily answered her question and you were free to go.
“How do you do it?” James asked immediately as you sat down.
“Well, you see, I bend my knees and let gravity pull me to my seat. It’s-”
“Shut up, you know what I mean.”
Remus had started sniggering at his friend’s stupidity. James shot Remus a threatening glare, stopping him immediately and went back to his book.
You giggled slightly and continued chatting, “Just talk to her like she’s a normal person.”
“I’ve been trying!” He groaned. In all the years you had known James, you’d never seen him act like this about a girl- ‘if only Sirius felt like this about me’ you thought.
Sirius came back from his shower shortly after, shooing Remus further over the sofa so he could sit in his favourite spot that, coincidentally, was next to you.
At around 11, you finally felt your eyes grow heavy and flutter shut, falling asleep next to Sirius.
Sirius admired you as you slept, unaware of his surroundings, he loved everything about you and you just seemed more beautiful lit by the fire: your eyelashes cast soft shadows over your cheekbones, your lips were slightly parted and your brows slightly furrowed.
And James watched as his best friend admired another, both so painfully obviously in love yet so blind to it.
You stirred slightly, breaking both boys reverie, Sirius shot up and announced he was going to bed. You waved him good night sleepily and was about to go to bed yourself when James pounced a question on you.
“Does Lily like me?”
“You know she does you twat. She just doesn’t want to give in, she has no reason to, you’re always available to her.”
James looked as though he was going to defend himself but thought better of it.
A familiar look spread across his tanned face and you straightened up, “Potter, I know that look, stop, no.”
“You like Sirius.” you spluttered from shock but James merely continued, “I like Lily. They like us back. We need to make them jealous.”
“Fuck off.” You whinged, not in the mood for a ‘Potter Plan’ as you and Eudaimonia called them.
“Nah, hear me out. We pretend to date, they get jealous and boom, love is in the air.” James looked at you triumphantly, the look not faltering when you glared back.
“Ew, gross, no. You’re like my brother.”
“Calm down, it’s not like I’d ever date you.”
“Doing great, dear.”
“You know what I mean.”
You paused, pondering the idea, and took a deep breath, “Until Friday.”
“Do you always understand everything you feel?” Cas asked, one day.
He thought, obscurely, that Spring was the right time for a question like this; or at least this Spring was - a Spring that felt fresh and light and hazy, still dazed by the wonder of Winter’s passing. Dean, sitting in the car beside him, looked washed out by it - or rather, washed clean, Cas supposed he meant. Softened, in any case.
“How d’you mean?” Dean said. He turned to Cas, the bright sun shrinking out the darkness in his eyes - turning them green. Green like go-lights, green like mazes - no, gentler than both of those; green like the water-full leaves of succulent plants. Green like book covers, like peppermint-flavour candies.
“I mean… do you ever feel something that you can’t explain? Something… ineffable?”
Dean pressed his lips together. Cas wondered if he needed to explain the word ‘ineffable’.
“Nah?” he said. “I guess most of what I feel, I know what to call it. I don’t always like it, but at least I know what it is.”
Cas nodded seriously. Dean let the silence rest for a while as they cruised down the Spring-morning road.
“What about you?” he said eventually.
Cas lifted a shoulder.
“I… have a thousand words for how things feel,” he said, “and a thousand things to feel within me. But I… I cannot make them match.”