yes i collect things like this

catfruits  asked:

Okay, so, I'd love to read a little something by you set in a world where Lavender made it out of the Battle of Hogwarts. Maybe not okay, but alive?

Once upon a time, Lavender had wanted everyone to look at her. She had been the kind of kid who put on dramatic plays for her stuffed animals, for any visitors to the house, and for any neighbor or passersby she could snag from the front yard.

Dating Ron in sixth year had been fun, most of all because everyone had kept sneaking glances at her. She had heard her name in curious whispers and she had grinned and giggled into Parvati’s shoulder.

Everyone was looking now, or pretending not to. She heard the whispers– oh it’s that poor Brown girl. Can you imagine, if it was your daughter, if it was you? Oh and she was so pretty before, too–what a pity–almost makes it worse, doesn’t it?

“You know Professor Lupin was a werewolf?” Hermione said, ten minutes into a very awkward lunch she had asked for in an equally awkward letter.

Lavender pushed a sauteed carrot through a little puddle of pasta sauce. “I think everyone heard about that one. Someone told the papers, or something, right?”

“Er, yes,” said Hermione. “Snape did. Which is what I– I mean, it’s related. Oh, I wish you’d gotten to talk to Remus about this. He was a lovely man.”

“Not as lovely as Lockhart,” Lavender said and she and Hermione spent a moment in wistful remembrance. “God, I feel old,” Lavender said.

“Anyway, Snape,” said Hermione. “Snape and Lupin. When Lupin was at school, Snape would make him a potion that would… tame him, on full moons. He could just curl up in his office and sleep by the fire. If you’re interested, I’m trying to learn how to brew it myself.”

Lavender shook her head. “We’re not friends,” she said. “Never have been. So why are you doing all this?”

Hermione looked like she was trying to say “we’re friends,” but she couldn’t get it out. “I was there, once, when Lupin turned without the potion. I was so scared. I thought we were going to die.”

“Afraid I’ll sniff you out on a dark night?” Lavender said, face twisting as she sank back into her wicker chair.

“No, I–” Hermione squeezed her eyes shut, and all the hesitation was making Lavender more and more uncomfortable. Even at eleven, Hermione had bulldozed through things. She didn’t waver. “I was so scared, but I think it was even worse for him. It hurt, but he looked so scared, too, I–”

“I know how it feels,” said Lavender, very quietly, and Hermione snapped her mouth shut. Lavender took a big sip from her tea. It was still steaming– it had not taken long to exhaust small talk, between the two of them.

Hermione cleared her throat and tried again. “I’m trying to do the right thing. I’m trying to make amends. I’m trying to– make things better. Do you want this?”

Lavender put her mug back down, shaking out scalded fingers, and said, “Yes.” Then, because her mother had raised her right, she said, “Thank you.”

“That sounds like a weird conversation,” said Parvati, whose door Lavender went and knocked on after she and Hermione had split the bill with the precise-to-the-Knut math of the vaguely acquainted and recently employed.

Lavender kicked through the fall of autumn leaves that had collected in front of the porch swing. “She was trying to be nice, I think.”

“She’s not very good at it,” said Parvati.

-

Her father wept. He tried not to but he was a crier, always had been.

“You were so brave,” said Lavender’s mother, cupping her cheeks in her warm hands and not even flinching at the scar tissue under her palms. “We are so proud.”

Lavender’s mother was a Muggleborn, daughter of a math teacher and a door-to-door salesman (“now there is a profession that requires some magic,” her grandfather used to tell her).

Her father was a wizard and he was trying hard not to cry, bending down to pet the dogs weaving between all their ankles. Lavender bent down, too, scratching behind Fiddlestick’s floppy ears while Mopsy cleaned her cheek forcefully. “Hey,” she said, and her father looked up, trying to firm his wobbly chin.

“You know I’m proud of you, too,” he said, trying not to tremble on it. “I just…” He reached out to squeeze her knee gently. “You did everything right. You did everything good. I’m so proud of you, chickadee.”

“I know,” she said, and she did. He was a Gryffindor, too.

-

It took Hermione more than a month to figure out the potion sufficiently well enough that she’d let Lavender try it. She was founding a non-profit for nonhuman rights, too, after all, as well as doing a fair few local speaking gigs, petitioning the Wizenagamot on a half dozen issues, getting an advanced degree, and supposedly, at some point, sleeping.

It took more than a month, so Lavender spent another night locked in her parents’ newly fortified cellar. She didn’t remember much, but she woke up with her throat sore and her nails ragged. The door was gouged from the inside. She wondered if she had been screaming. She wondered if that’s what the howls were. She felt like screaming, maybe, a little.

The door cracked open the moment the moon had dropped down below the horizon, outside. Her mother came in with a tray of her favorite breakfast foods– danishes and boiled eggs, steaming hot cocoa with the barest splash of bitter coffee in it.

Parvati came stomping down the stairs after her. “Graceful,” said Lavender. She winced at the roughness of her voice.

“Look who’s talking,” said Parvati. “Up, c'mon, eat your breakfast. We’re doing midnight manicures. Your dad says he’ll let us doll up his nails, too.”

The next full moon night, Lavender locked herself in the cellar again. “It should be safe,” Hermione had said. “It should. I mean, I’ve done all the tests. I followed all the instructions. It should work.”

Lavender didn’t remember, because she never remembered– she didn’t recall the cellar door unlocking and opening after ten minutes of post-moonrise silence. She didn’t recall Parvati Wingardium Leviosa-ing a comfy chair down the stairs, or her sitting down and pulling out a stack of Witch Weeklys, nor did she remember curling up on Parvati’s fuzzy button slippers and going to sleep.

But she did remember waking up in the morning, her cheek pressed into a soft pillow. She was tattered under a thick blanket, but she was human and looking upward at Parvati’s slack, sleeping face. Her dark plaits tumbled, curling, over the soft pink polka dots of her pajamas.

Lavender pulled herself up to sitting, stole the open Witch Weekly, and waited for Parvati to wake up.

-

“You’re going to be alright,” Professor Trelawney said and she wasn’t even looking at Lavender’s palm, just holding her hand tight in her cold fingers. “You’re going to be happy. You’re going to be fine. People are going to love you and stand by you and we will be there.”

The tower room was just the same as Lavender remembered it, down to the spicy-sweet tea and Trelawney’s big blinking eyes. Lavender squeezed her hands back. “I love you, too, professor.”

“You know, I think you can call me Sybil. It seems the time for it.”

Dean and Seamas’s housewarming for their ugly little first flat was a crowded mess, but the afterparty wasn’t. Lavender and Parvati came by with paint swatches, opinions, and hangover remedies. They ate greasy Chinese food on the floor, because it was about as comfortable as the couch.

They came back the next week, and the next. Parvati conjured a crackling fire in a big fruit bowl Dean’s mother had given him and they all sat around it like they were back at Gryffindor Tower’s hearths, procrastinating on homework.

On nights like that they sometimes talked about Hogwarts, but most of the time they didn’t. Dean had started drawing again and he walked them through his notebooks– his sisters, caricatures of the customers he dealt with in Ollivander’s wand shop, the snarky little comics he’d always scrawled in the edges of his notes. Parvati told them about the Auror trainees’ antics, going ut on their first field missions with their mentors. “All bravado and caffeine,” she said. “Bunch of show-offs.”

“So you fit in well, then?” Dean said.

“Nah, that’s Lav,” Parvati said. Dean and Seamas glanced warily at Lavender, but she just giggled and reached for another potsticker.

Seamas was considering going back to school. “Hermione’s been badgering me about it,” he said. “Says I have a talent for pyrotechnics, and there’s a whole major for fire magics at Brinxley.”

“What about you, Lav?” said Dean. “You still thinking about vet school?”

“What?”

“Oh, uh, that’s the Muggle word. Veterinarian– a medimagizoologist?”

“The schools aren’t too interested in a werewolf as a student,” Lavender said, shrugging.

“Not that that stops Hermione from showing up on the doorstep with half-penned anti-discrimination lawsuits she wants Lav to star in,” Parvati said.

“When does she sleep?” said Dean.

Little children asked about it in the street sometimes. “Mum, why’s her face like that?” “How come she’s walking all funny?”

Sometimes their parents turned to Lavender with eager bright eyes in the grocery store line, expecting her to answer. (“I got hurt, but I’m okay now.”) Sometimes they shushed their kids and gave her little apologetic half-smiles, glancing away from the raised lines of scar tissue. Sometimes they pulled their children closer to them and crossed to the other side of the street.

Harry Potter had a godson. Teddy Lupin was four the first time Lavender met him, just outside Gringotts. Teddy clung to Harry’s pants leg, peeking past his godfather’s hanging robe. “Why’d her face do that?” he said and Harry dropped a hand down into Teddy’s hair, which was bright green.

“She’s just like your dad,” said Harry.

“Puppy,” Teddy whispered, eyes wide with joy, and his skin shifted until scars stood out stark on his smiling chubby cheeks.

Lavender bit her lip and sank down to her knees in the street, holding out a hand. “Why aren’t you handsome, chickadee. What’s your name?”

Once, Lavender had wanted everyone to look at her.

She hated stories that told you to be careful what you wished for. Were you not supposed to want things? Was that the answer? She was nearly twenty two and she could make things fly with a few whispered words. She had lived through her seventh year at Hogwarts, had stepped out into that battle with her wand out and her eyes open. She had woken up–hurting, wounds tended, poison in her veins–to Parvati sleeping on Sybil’s shoulder at her bedside.

She had cried when they told her about the lycanthropy. She had cried over her bunny because a fox had gotten to it. Both times it had been with her face buried in Parvati’s shoulder and Parvati’s hands stroking her hair. She wished and she wanted– animals that never left you, bodies that never betrayed you.

Once, Lavender had wished that everyone would look at her, and now they were. Everyone was looking– so Lavender held Parvati’s hand in the grocery store at midnight, because they had both been craving green apples. Everyone was looking– so Lavender curled her hair and pinned it up, wore tank tops and little skirts on any day hot enough that she could get away with it, laughed aloud in public spaces. Everyone was looking– so Lavender knocked on Hermione Granger’s door one evening and asked, “What would it take to get me into magical vet school?”

Hermione had her bushy hair all tied back and a quill behind each ear. “A lot. There’s some statutes we’ve got to fight, and even if we can handle that you’ll still be under intense scrutiny for years.”

“I can work with that,” said Lavender, and Hermione grinned.

When Teddy marched down the aisle with the rings, his hair was a shimmering swirl of pink and purple to match the flowers woven into Parvati’s braids and Lavender’s curls.

The honeymoon would be short–a week in magical Paris in the townhouse of a Beauxbaton girl they’d befriended fourth year. Lavender had more medical textbooks packed into her luggage than anything else. Parvati’s bags were lined with half-finished reports that she’d owl to Auror headquarters from a rumpled Parisian morning, getting croissant crumbs in the bedsheets.

But for now the hall was filled with pink and purple blooms, white candles, familiar faces. Hermione stood in a violet bridesmaid’s dress, and Dean and Seamus in matching ties at Parvati and Lavender’s respective backs. Padma was luminescent with joy over Parvati’s shoulder. She had taken Lavender aside that morning for a short quiet walk in the mist and told her, “I know tonight’s what makes it official, but I’ve thought of you as my sister for years.”

When Lavender leaned forward and kissed her wife, her father burst into proud tears in the front row. He was a crier, always had been. Lavender buried her face in Parvati’s shoulder, smiling so hard she thought she might come apart. Her scars creased and puckered in her dimples, and she was beautiful, beautiful, beautiful.

To be honest, the tumblr witchcraft community taught me more than any book on witchcraft I ever read.

*as soon as the weather gets chilly*

Ravenclaw: Ah yes, time to break out the sock collection!

Gryffindor: Hold up, you have a sock collection?

anonymous asked:

dont u think it's fishy how shiro almost died by being struck by a druid but keith was barely burned when a druid hit him 🤔

YE s  and i literally cant think of any other explanation for it but druid keith. like, logically, some people could say “but maybe keith just reacts like that cause hes galra?” but here’s the thing–thace also gets attacked, and his wound looks exactly like shiro’s

also antok gets hit while in full bom armor and he like?? dies so?? clearly being galra doesnt give you some kind of natural immunity. 

so this:

isnt a galra thing. its a keith thing. 

now, keith’s not taking druid magic and throwing it back at the caster like allura. but, i do think his skin is absorbing most of the impact. i mean, it still looks like it really hurt, but you don’t get those same glowy wounds shiro and thace do. weirdly enough, it also seems like he could maybe have some kind of an understanding of whats going on. 

when he sees his hand he freaks out, and that is when he calls pidge and tells her she needs to come get him now. he doesnt call team voltron to save him when hes fighting zarkon one on one, or when thace decides to turn the ship hes on into a bomb. but one hit on his hand? hes like, i have to leave right now, and thats…very out of character for him 

(i mean, he could just be in a big hurry to leave cause he realizes hes gonna lose this fight, but he didn’t even run away from a duel with zarkon, so like…running away is really just not his style) 

its also interesting that keith was healed when his skin came in contact with the pure (gold) quintessence. 

literally the only people we see that are able to manipulate raw quintessence are the druids, everyone else who uses it needs to 1) have quintessence thats already been refined by a druid (like in collection and extraction, that purple kind) and 2) get some kind of mechanical component that can convert the quintessence into some form of compatible energy (the injection things that guard uses in beta traz, shiro’s arm, sendak’s arm, the robeasts, ect) 

but keith requires neither. its just him and his own ability 

4

In 1973, women in the New York Police Department were assigned to patrol duty for the first time, and the term “police officer” replaced the earlier designations of “police-woman” and “patrolman.” 

Jane Hoffer photographed a number of these women and collected their perspectives on their work. Ann Wilson (top photo) reflected:

When they transferred me to the taxi squad, I was primarily with the other girls, assigned to clerical duties. But I had a very innovative boss who one day said to me: “Are you afraid of the street?” and I said: “No.” And he said: “Would you like to try it?” And I said: “Yes.” And out I went. On patrol, in an unmarked car. And I enjoyed it! Once you get a taste of it, it’s like you can’t keep ‘em down on the farm any longer. Because you realize you are just as functional…you can do just about the same things. In fact, in some cases, you’re at an advantage.

Jane Hoffer. Ann Wilson, Sergeant Barbara Collins, [?] Walker, and Officer Peggy O’Shaughnessy. circa 1975-1978. On the Beat photograph collection. New-York Historical Society. 

4

Emma Carstairs / Julian Blackthorn;

“I used to read Law books,” he said, drawing away from her. “the parts about parabatai. I read them a million times. There’s never been a case of a pair of parabatai who fell in love and got caught and were forgiven. Only horror stories (…) But the horror stories are only about the ones who got caught” He breathed in deep, holding her gaze. “If we’re careful,we won’t be.”

I think I see an emerging Lance trait that I’m quite liking… Lance may not be a genius, but he seems really good with numbers.

  • he had no problem keeping track of that large number of coins/money that he and Pidge were collecting in the space mall fountain
  • that scene with Coran (during Trials of Marmora) when he calculates the remaining time, in altean terms no less, and Coran says “…yes that’s actually right!”
  • and I mean it would make sense that a sniper sharpshooter is good with math, because he has to calculate things under pressure and on the fly, like wind direction and speed, range, bullet curve, bullet drop, etc.

I’m going to start a collection based on this post and this post. I shouldn’t because it’s silly but I’m weird and like silly stuff. So here we go. First one of Team Free Will with Koala-Couch-Blanket!Dean and the other too. 

I think it won’t be sillier, maybe cuter, who knows…

Spider-man: Homecoming basically stole from Miles Morales

I’ve been seeing some willfully obtuse shit regarding this where Marvel fans essentially ignore that Peter stole traits from Miles’ origin and story. So here is the list of the ways it was done.

1. Ganke Lee/Ned Leeds

Of course, I had to start with the most obvious.

Not only that he looks like Ganke, but he fucking acts like Ganke. Has Ned Leeds been Asian before? Yes, in Spectacular Spider-man Tv Show, but it would be hilarious that Disney and Sony actually stole from Greg Weisman after they both collectively screwed him twice. The thing about this character is that he acts more like Miles’ Ganke than he does Peter’s Ned Leeds.

Peter’s Ned Leeds was never a close friend of Peter’s, let alone went to the same school as Peter. He was an acquaintance at best or a fellow work mate at the most. 

Ganke, however….

..Is Miles’ best friend. He was introduced in Miles’ second issue ever. He has been a constant character ever since. That is Miles’ number 1.

If you noticed that Ganke was playing with Legos, guess what hobby Ned Leeds’ favorite hobby is?

That is a Lego Deathstar. And before you say, well in the panels’ he’s just playing with it. He doesn’t seem that interested in Legos.

And why Legos are integral to Miles and Ganke? Miles is not as Science smart as Ganke or Peter Parker so he cannot remake the Web fluid. Ganke is that smart and Legos are suggested by Chemists as great toys children to play with because it helps them visualize molecular models. Ganke is as important to Miles’ Spider-man as he is to Miles.

For all intents and purposes, Ned Leeds probably is just his best friend on account of Peter not telling Ned Leeds that he is Spider-man. Speaking of which, the whole Peter having a confidant in on his identity situation…

He never had one. Peter never told anyone that he is Spider-man. He never once shared that info with Gwen Stacy, Mary Jane(she always knew, but never revealed that she knew), Harry Osbourne, or anyone. In Ultimate Spider-man, Peter did confide in Mary Jane, but that was a case of her being his only friend.

Miles only revealed his identity to Ganke and eventually his father.  Well in the case of Ganke, Miles never had to reveal anything because Ganke was there to help him become Spider-man. It just the scene how Ned leeds found out.

Look familiar?

The same parallel as Peter’s.

Also, Ganke is girl obsessed like Homecomings’ Ned Leeds is. And yes, you are a little too infatuated with the opposite sex if you know by heart what a woman has worn previously and what she hasn’t.

The first thing Ganke does when Jessica Drew presents Miles with his new costume is to declare that he will start talking to girls.

After a deep conversation about what to do with Miles’ thieving ass Uncle, Ganke is pressed to go with Miles’ not to provide comfort, but to stare at his mom(who is really attractive).

As soon as he meets Mary Jane Watson and Gwen Stacy, Ganke immediately switches gears and starts hitting on them.

Ganke making a gift out of Legos for Gwen Stacy.

And it working…

Ganke trying to use Miles to hook him up with Dagger, and refusing to believe anyone is too hot for him.

Ganke is girl obsessed. It’s part of his charm.

So Peter took Miles’ best friend. Great.

2. Miles motivation of proving he is a superhero

I remember when I called this out and some moron said Peter had to prove himself to the Fantastic Four in his debut. No.

He wasn’t trying to prove himself with the Fantastic Four. He wanted to join the Fantastic Four so he can earn money.

The FF did not have an opinion on him, except Ben who did not like Spider-man for being a show off like Johnny. 

Just for your closure…

Miles’ however, had to go through a proving ground to not just be Spider-man, but also be qualified as a hero.

Instead of Tony Stark being the one supervisor of Miles, it is Captain America. It’s a long story as to why Cap feels the need to restrict Miles, but he is the one Miles has to prove his worth to.

After fighting with Captain America, Miles pops the question.

And to tie it into the Civil War, Miles’ asks to be the Ultimate equivalent of the Avengers, the Ultimates.

This is not a coincidence. You may say that they needed Peter to join MCU somehow, but how they are going about it is eerily similar to how they went about it with Miles. Peter never once had to gain recognition from his fellow superheroes. He never once had to ask to join the Avengers because they respected him as a hero. Miles’ did.

This is not the first time Peter took this from Miles either. The Ultimate Spider-man cartoon has Peter,again, taking Miles familiarity with Nick Fury and forming a super team just like Miles Morales. It’s annoying.

3. Younger Aunt May/Parental figure and having stability

Before I start this, yes, Ultimate Spider-man had a younger Aunt May and Uncle Ben. I know this. You seen her above when she is talking to Miles and you see her when Gwen kissed Ganke. But she did not look like this.

Now Marissa Tomei is a young looking 52 year old woman. Girl fucking looks good. Slay.

But Ultimate Aunt May did not look like she was pulling dates off tinder. Ultimate Aunt May also did not stay in an upscale Queen suite. Peter was not raised in an economically stable environment. There was always bills to be paid and Aunt May did not work.

Miles however lives in Brooklyn. His mom is a nurse and his father a cop. It is a stable household.

As you can see, Rio is hot!

Anyways, what contributed to Peter’s anxiety and neuroticism was that he never had a stable household. They were always just above the red. With Ben gone, Aunt May had to take care of the household in spite of Peter’s new adventures.  Peter is lower middle class. Miles’ is middle class when it comes to living in Brooklyn.

4. The charter school

This especially pissed me off. 

Miles goes to an advanced charter school for gifted children. How he did so?

You ever see the documentary, “Waiting for Superman?”

Okay, so there is a literal lottery for gifted urban youth(usually youth of color) for them to attend advanced schools. If they do not get the right lottery, then they are sent back to attend the shitty Inner City schools where they most likely won’t excel in life. They will most likely excel if they go to Charter School. It sucks, but that is a reality youth face.

Miles had to enter this lottery to attend his charter school(with the number 42, Jackie Robinson’s number to mark the significance). Peter has never been placed in a situation where his race and environment did not cheat him out of a future or reduce his options. His intelligence has always gotten him out of academic situations and guaranteed his success. Miles had to enter a fucking lottery to ensure his future was stable. And that is highly fucked up that Peter just took that trait from Miles without the significance of it being appreciated and realized.

That is four things that Spider-man: Homecoming leeched from Miles Morales and his story. And people want to act dumb as if these characteristics have always been attributed to Peter. Bull fucking shit. They wanted a relative character that was not presented on screen or the audiences did not already know. They exhausted Peter’s story, characters, and even abilities through 5 movies, several cartoon, and several video games and a fucking live action play. 

What pisses me off is that people have called Miles the inferior Spider-man or not the real Spider-man, yet Peter, this motherfucker, is literally taking aspects from Miles and no one is calling it out. You love everything about Miles when it is on a white character, huh?

It is also an aspect of Marvel canabalizing off of legacy characters. DC gave Wally a chance to be the Flash over Barry Allen. DC gave several Robins a chance and did not create an amalgamation of Robin. DC gave Jon Stewart a chance ahead of Kyle Rainer and Hal Jordan. Fuck, Marvel you gave Scott Lang a chance over Hank Pym in spite of making Hank Pym’s main villain the villain of Avengers 2(And Hank Pym fans did not deserve that). 

We heard every excuse in the book as to why Miles could not be the first to enter MCU when Peter’s story has been told 5 fucking times on screen.  Miles Morales was trending when it was announced that Marvel was making a Spider-man film. People wanted his story to be told. And we heard every excuse in the book as to why Miles could not be selected. There was fucking press release that basically said Peter Parker had to be white yet you don’t mind diversifying the rest of the cast. We heard that his story was too new, but that did not stop you from making Robbie Reyes the new Ghost Rider. That Miles is a legacy. Yet you made Scott Lang, the legacy to Hank Pym, the first Ant Man on screen while acknowledging that Scott Lang is the second Ant Man. You just did not want him on screen because Miles is not white. End of story. You liked his story so much that you attributed to Peter. You took his cast. You took his financial situation. You took his precarious school situation. You took one of his arc. And you gave them to Peter. By doing that, you all but ensured that Miles would be stuck in his comic book and not being getting a damn thing.

The only reason I am interested in this film is Zendaya because black women, even bi-racial women, are hardly romantic leads in super hero in general. They are rarely presented as such and that sucks. I really don’t are about this movie outside of that. It looks good, but whatever.

ribcage. || i

Summary: college!au Where Tom is a genuine sweetheart trying to make it through college without completely losing his mind; his three close friends make it easier though. However, there’s one girl who wears the big sweaters and seems to have her head more in her sketchbook than anywhere else who changes him after he gets caught blatantly admiring her from afar. Tom takes it upon himself to make her problems his problems, but sometimes it’s just better to not stick your nose where it doesn’t belong. Emphasis on the sometimes though.

Pairing: Tom Holland x Fem!Black!Reader

Word Count: 1,255

Warnings: Swearing & Staring

Keep reading

Meet Me in the Hallway

Pairing: Tom Holland x Gender Neutral!Reader

Prompt: Based off Meet Me in the Hallway by Harry Styles

Notes/Warnings: This is my favorite song off the album. I love Harry Styles. He owns my ass. Also this might be the only imagine I have that isn’t a happy ending?? ANGSTY SORRY. Bye.


I struggled to catch my breath while leaning against the door I’d just shut. The walls were closing in – I locked the door behind me and reached for the back of my sweatshirt, pulling it off; I hadn’t even noticed my shirt clung to the material of the sweater, leaving the top half of myself bare. It feels like I’m drowning, the clothes I was wearing were clinging to my body and shrinking against my skin. I remembered that the sweatshirt was his. I could feel my stomach turn at the realization that something that was one of my biggest comforts was now making me feel like I was being suffocated. I jumped at the sudden fist on the door – the noise made me want to crawl into myself, but I settled for the bed instead.

“Please, please don’t do this. Please, let me in.” I could feel myself shaking – it wasn’t him. It wasn’t who I wanted him to be. I closed my eyes, breathing in his scent from the pillow, the scent he’d left here just the night before. I couldn’t stomach it anymore – he couldn’t bring me comfort. Not anymore.

Meet me in the hallway
Meet me in the hallway
I just left your bedroom
Give me some morphine
Is there any more to do?

The sound of his voice, pleading with me – begging for me – made my skin crawl. I tried to imagine myself being transported somewhere else. But, thinking of me being somewhere else just reminded me I was here. I was here. I wanted to be numb, please, I begged, to whoever would listen to me, please just make me not feel.

“I can explain – just open the door.” You don’t have to, I wanted to say. What were we? We weren’t anything. He told me he loved me – but, he didn’t have to. He’d only ever said it when he was hovering over me, the sweat collecting on his forehead with his eyes screwed shut while my praise for him was falling past my lips and through thick air. He wasn’t mine. I always knew in the back of my head he’d never be. I’d never be his. I just hoped he never believed that – the way I’d never believed it.

His fist knocked on the door again, softer. I could feel the energy being drained from the both of us – sooner or later he’d get tired of trying to beat the door down. He’d get tired of fighting.

Just let me know I’ll be at the door, at the door
Hoping you’ll come around
Just let me know I’ll be on the floor, on the floor
Maybe we’ll work it out

“I’m not leaving.” I barely heard him. My face was still against another pillow. When I heard his voice, I didn’t hear what he was saying. I heard a name that wasn’t mine and I heard names he said he’d only ever called me. Is that what I thought made me special? “I’m going to be here, in the middle of this hallway. Waiting.” I shook my head against the pillow. “We can fix this,” his voice dropped to a whisper, his body slumping against the door with a soft thud, “we’ll get through this. We’ll work through this. We’ll work it out.” I shook my head again – I couldn’t tell if I was saying no to him or if I was trying to convince myself to stay on the bed.

“Tom,” I gasped at the sound of my voice – the way his name sounded. I hadn’t said it out loud since I got home; I had said it a few hours ago, but it only reached just below a whisper, so low that he hadn’t even heard it. He didn’t hear me walk in and say his name – begging him to stop.

“Yes?” I bit my lip, bringing my hands to my eyes and rubbing at them roughly, trying to stop the tears from coming down. Stop fucking crying. I shook my head to myself, feeling myself slip further away. “Please, darling. Please, just talk to me.”

“I’m not yours.” It wasn’t what I expected I was going to say, but it was what I needed to say – for me. For myself. My sanity.

“I – What? Yes, you are. You always have been.” I shook my head, laughing lightly as my hands left my face, letting myself cry. It wasn’t like I had succeeded in stopping it. “Just—just open the door.” I didn’t say anything. I walked around the room and collected the things I had collected from our friendship through the years.

“Remember when we went to Disneyland? Haz was trying to set us up – he made it look like we were going as a group, then the group left us to hangout on our own?” I picked up the matching pins he’d bought for us at the end of the day. The bottlecap pin with Carl from UP. He had Ellie’s – he always told me that it was because he was taking me on adventures I couldn’t go on whenever he had press tours. Like Ellie couldn’t go on anymore in the movie.

“Yeah, it was our first date. But, we decided to stay friends. We were both too busy.” You were too busy, I wanted to say. I decided against it. I kept the pin in my closed palm and walked off toward the end of my desk, picking up a letter I had pinned on the side of it.

“Remember the letter you wrote me when you went back home on break?” My fingers ran over the words, they were barely legible. I’d cried over the letter whenever I’d missed him, for the past two years.

“Yeah – it was the first time I’d felt homesick. I wasn’t with you.” I smiled, despite the tears on my face. Don’t feel anything, I reminded myself.

I walked the streets all day
Running with the thieves
‘Cause you left me in the hallway
Give me some more
Just take the pain away

“I remember the first time you kissed me.” I whispered – I didn’t know if he heard me, but I kept talking. “You stayed over – we had one night before you left for three months. Which was how long we would be without each other–”

“It was the longest we’d ever been apart.” I nodded to myself. He could hear me.

“You stayed over,” I could feel my throat closing again, and I could hear how desperate I’d sounded trying not to choke on my words, “you kissed me before you walked out. You told me you couldn’t live without me.” I was crying again, and anyone could hear me. I hoped he heard how broken I was because of him. “You came back three months later and you slept with me. It was the first time you said you loved me. It was the first time you lied to me.”

“I didn’t lie to you.” I laughed lightly at that, jumping when his fist pounded against the door again. “I didn’t lie to you. I love you.” I folded the pin in the letter he’d written me, stuffing both into the pocket of the sweatshirt of his I was wearing. I pulled my shirt back on, walking over to the door. “I love you.” He kept repeating it. I didn’t know if he was trying to convince me or himself.

But I couldn’t feel it anymore. I couldn’t feel anything anymore.

We don’t talk about it
It’s something we don’t do
'Cause once you go without it
Nothing else will do

I sighed, opening the door. Tom looked at me, his eyes scanning my face. I didn’t say anything – I looked at him too. I’ve always loved looking at him. For as long as I could remember, as long as I’d known him. Except this time, it felt different—it felt final.

“Babe—”

“Here,” I said, handing him the sweater. He closed his mouth, looking at me confused. “You should check the pockets. When you get home.”

“W-wait, what? We have to talk about this.” I shook my head, moving to close the door. “Please—”

“I don’t want to feel this anymore. I can’t afford to feel like this. To feel everything. I really want you to just go home.”

“I can’t go home without you.” I laughed lightly, moving to close the door again.

“You looked pretty comfortable when I saw you there a couple of hours ago.” Without another word, I shut the door. I’d left him in the hallway, but I couldn’t feel guilty. He’d left me in the hallway waiting for him because he knew I’d always knock on the door. We were both always waiting for the other, when we should’ve been meeting each other, instead.

Etude House Bubble Tea Sleeping Pack in Green Tea

Click for my other ET bubble tea sleeping pack reviews

click for my other Etude House Reviews or my review ML

RETAIL PRICE: 13+ USD / 1 type

FROM THE OFFICIAL SITE:   The bubble tea sleeping pack makes skin moisturized and elastic during the night with its compound of black tea gel and moisture capsule bubbles.

Green Tea- Clean and Clear Skin (Sebum control, pores)

MY SKIN TYPE: NORMAL/OILY

RECOMMENDED USE:

1. Using the spatula, dispense gel and 1-2 bubbles onto the palm.

2. Gently rupture the bubbles with the spatula onto the palm and rub with the fingers to mix the bubbles and pack.

3. Evenly apply on skin in a massaging motion to promote absorption into skin.

4. Leave it on overnight, and then wash off with lukewarm water the next morning.

Tips! Use only gel depending on the condition of skin. For better moisturizing effect, mix the gel with 1-2 bubbles

From me: A little goes a long way, so I would defiantly stick to ONE bubble each time you apply. One bubble is more than enough for your entire face, and honestly with how easily the gel spreads if you used anymore than that you’d run out too quick and be left with just a ton of gel.

First Impressions: The packaging is A LOT smaller than I thought it was going to be? It’s adorable af, but it kind of looses it’s bubble-tea cup shape because the bottle is weirdly long shaped… would have been nicer if it was a bit wider than long… but hey, I’m not a designer here. Otherwise it’s cute as hell and it looks nice sitting wherever you store it. You’ll feel good using it because the color of the product is pretty as well. It has a better than average smell but it’s very very faint/non-existent unless you put your nose to it.

It’s also important to note that it is a screw on/off lid and does come with a white plastic… thing… with a tab in between the product and the big lid.

Overall thoughts:  This pack ISN’T STICKY, ISN’T GREASY, AND ACTUALLY DRY making it a breeze to sleep with them on unlike others. Just be careful not to rub the product into your eyes because I did my mistake (it dried on my face, forgot I had it on, touched my face and then rubbed my eye) and my eye itched for the next 30 minutes.

I’m going to officially say this product has no smell, but if you stick your nose to it it has that that smell of a high quality cream? It’s hard to explain and while 13 USD might be pricey for me for a thing Etude House is definitely a Korean DRUG STORE Brand so that’s nice?

It doesn’t REALLY do as it claims (sebum control, pore cleansing, etc) but instead it does pretty much EVERYTHING a little bit better than average? So in other words, it says it’s a sebum controlling/pore bettering sleeping pack. Is it an AMAZING sebum control pack? No! But does it control my sebum good enough for a 13 USD product, while BRIGHTENING my face, while PLUMPING my face, while giving my face a super GLOW after I wash it off, while minimizing discoloration/dark spots/blackheads? YES. And you can SEE results from all 5-6 things I listed that it does do AT THE SAME TIME. And honestly I love it so much more than if it left my face dry and sebum-controlled while looking blotchy as hell and I’m telling you, you do/would as well (:p!!) 

tldr: it’s a sleeping pack that claims that it’s a sebum control/pore fixing type but in reality does that + brightens, + plumps, +adds glow, +minimizes dark spots/black heads/etc

Con: unlike the strawberry type, NO BURNING, ITCHING, OR IRRITATION FROM THIS TYPE!! :))))!!

Overall rating: 10/10

Would buy again: I Yes, but it’s so dang expensive!! I’m also not sure how long it keeps and I do like to try out new things so maybe? It’s not a staple in my collection of beauty products but it sure as hell WORKS (also I’m a cheap b!tch so).

Where to buy:

  • etudehouse.com
  • memebox.com
  • amazon
  • ebay
I Need to Speak Up About Concrete

Oh boy… where do I start?

As a white guy, maybe I shouldn’t really be talking about this. But Swaggy Thunder and Slice of Otaku’s video on it made me a bit mad. I want to tackle some points that they made.


— They seemed pretty mad at the fact that Bismuth, a POC character, is portrayed as a villain. Boi… all of the villains in the show are LGBT+ and I don’t see anyone complaining. Yes, we are minorities, and we can not be all painted as little angels. There *are* mean POC just like there are lots of wonderful POC. Same thing with LGBT’s. We are being realistic here. Nobody wrote Bismuth as a villain (and she’s not even a villain, she’s just misguided!) *because* she’s a POC.

— They say the fact Bismuth and Concrete not being gems is inferiorizing and might be associated with them being POC. Also that Garnet, another POC character, isn’t even naturally formed - she’s a fusion. 

Boy, where do I even start? Gemstones aren’t limited to minerals and rocks. As someone who’s been gathering a gem collection over the years, I can confirm that Bismuth is, indeed, a gemstone, at least the hopper Bismuth crystals. Just like Pearls — Pearl is a gem and Pearls aren’t rocks, they are organic matter! But concrete… isn’t that a stretch? Oh yes, yes it is… but guess what!

NONE OF THE GEMS IN THE SAME PAGES AS HER EVEN ARE REAL THINGS!!
And Garnet… this hurts. Garnet is built to be such a special character, that represents love, intelligence, strength, leadership! She teaches us that the morals of Homeworld are old and wrong and that Earth’s love is the right path, and you shit all over it by saying that she’s a bad representation of POC for not being made in a “natural Homeworld way”? Ugh.

— Her skin tone is allusive to blackface. 

Uhm… they said it themselves! Concrete is grey. Like Bismuth is grey adorned with multiple rainbow colours. I just don’t even know what to respond to this. It is that simple. Her skin is grey because concrete is grey, just like Garnet’s red because Garnets are red and Peridot’s green because Peridots are green.

Following the show’s canon, why should her be any other colour?

(Rose is almost an exception — her peachy skin is almost like a caucasian human’s. This is a stylistic choice to make her a bit closer to a human being due to her humanity and love for Earth!)

— “And she has big lips, too!”

Most of the characters, of all colours, have big lips! It’s a rather big part of the style of the show to draw women’s lips this way, I’d say.

Another thing:

I couldn’t find the artist, so all credit to them (I will edit this if I do see who they are). But just look at this fan-rendering of how Concrete would look if she was integrated in the show’s actual style and not just a concept drawing. Here, she’s imagined as an uncorrupted version of the Big Bird, and that’s why she isn’t “Concrete” anymore (instead being an actual gem) and has brown skin rather than grey. Does this look racist to you? To me, she looks like a sweet fun Gem just like Garnet, Amethyst, Pearl, Lapis, Peridot, Jasper, etc, etc, etc.


About the part of the stereotypes — I didn’t interpret the “Can’t read :(” part as anything other than “Can not read human writing, so she struggles a bit on Earth” type of note/reminder/little trivial character trait that Rebecca adds on all her character sketches. The show collection thing was a bit weird, I’ll admit, but who said it was Rebecca who decided on it? It was part of a collective game, so she could’ve just have written it down from a POC colleague (like Ian). 


— 

With all that, I hope to have made my point of view clear and if this, by a miracle, reaches Swaggy and Slice, please, consider my thoughts. You two and Vox are the only thing that can soot my appetite for Steven Universe content in these long hiatuses.

Much love,

Alexander Sedge. 💕

5

Some Fates doodles I did during my Hoshido play. All the cool ladies (also trolling Azura)

Also news for the French friends! I will attend the Japan Expo in July, where you will find me, some nerdy Fire Emblem merch and a doodles collection booklet full of things like this! :D Stay tuned for more infos!

run pt. 1

Originally posted by reidmeright

summary: spencer shared one night with you a month ago, saying he loved you, and hasn’t spoken to you since. now you’re pregnant and you’ve decided to leave the BAU to keep it a secret.

words: 952

warnings: sexual themes, angst AF, violence in the metaphors, pregnancy, etc. 

a/n: this is my first ever criminal minds fic so pls be gentle with me ok I know its completely horrible I’m aware

read part two here


Keep reading

Rude Boy (1)

Pairing: Bucky X Reader

Words: 2858

Warnings: Violence (some triggering scenes so please go away if this might make you uncomfortable). Lap dance.

Summary:  You go undercover with Bucky where you need to get a flashdrive from a HYDRA agent who frequents a men’s club. Your job is to give him a lap dance, get him knocked out, and steal the flash drive. Things don’t go as planned because someone gets a little jealous and decides to, quite literally, knock the agent out.

A/N: Because why not. So I had to put it in 2 parts again. If sexual harassment makes you uncomfortable, please go away. I don’t want to cause anyone any harm or pain. If you want to read the smut, it’s the next part.

Permanent Tag List:  @meganlane84 @mizzzpink @bringmetheemobands

Part 2

Originally posted by jerry-malina

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3.9.4 - Monty de la Cruz x Reader

Request - “Maybe a monty fan fic where monty and y/n have been besties since birth and he loves her but she’s dating jeff, since both of them play baseball.”            

A/N: I worked on the premise that they are 16/17. I’m pretty sure this is definitely not what you envisioned and it’s not what i did either, i kinda hate it. lol. I left the ending unclear in case i decide it needs serious editing.

3rd September 2004

A small freckled boy and a lonely shy girl make eye contact at their first day of school.

“Mommy says if someone looks nice I should talk to them” He said as he tapped her on the shoulder rather aggressively.

“My mommy says that too! Will you be my best friend? Mommy said I might meet one of those today!”

“For ever and ever and ever!”

6th January 2006

“Montgomery look at my snowman!”

The boy sulked noticing hers was far superior.

“I’ll help you with yours Montgomery.” She placed her mitten clad hands into his. “That’s what friends are for.”

9th September 2014

“Happy Birthday to my favourite person in the whole entire world.” She ran up from behind him holding a small home-made cake, which read; ‘Happy 15th Montgomery’

“Now, you know how much I appreciate the gesture, and how much i love cake, and you, but what have I said about continuously calling me my full name now that we’re in high school?” He took the cake.

“Don’t be such a teenager, Mont. Just because you’re now older than me.”

“Exactly. It means I get to boss you around.”

“We both know that’s never going to happen.”

22nd June 2016

“MONTGOmERY!! MONTGOMErYYYY!!” She yelled as she ran through the corridors, pushing people who were in her way.

“Monty!” She panted, flying into the boy with force.

“What?”

“Guess what?”

He rolled his eyes. “What?”

“NO. You have to guess.” She jumped up and down.

“Fine. You got an A?”

“Hell no, who do you think i am? Try again.”

“They finally made Pluto a planet again?”

“Monty! Keep up.” She pushed him.

“Well you haven’t given me any clues whatso-”

“Fine. FINE. I can’t wait any longer I’ll have to tell you. JEFF ATKINS ASKED ME ON A DATE!!”

Monty often thought this was one of the worst days of his life, the knife cut deep and sharp.

“Oh.” He pretended to put something away in his locker in order to hide his expression.

“Mont you’re my best friend, I expected you to be a bit more…animated.” Her face fell.

“I am really happy for you, it’s just, I just remembered that I have a chemistry exam next. Oops.”

Monty wasn’t sure how he could bear to see the girl he loved with the boy who had everything.

June 2017(now)

Montgomery and Y/N. Y/N and Montgomery. However you said it, it just sounded right. The two were inseparable, and when Monty threw a fit, which, really,  was a lot, the only person he would even consider looking at was Y/N. She was his rock, and he was stupidly in love with her.

The problem was, she was dating his friend, Jeff. A guy she’d crushed on since freshman year. He had the hearts of everyone in school, he could pick anyone, but he’d decided to choose the one girl Monty even glanced at. Of course, he didn’t blame him, Jeff had no idea how his friend felt about Y/N, and well, she was perfect, but it still stung. What was worse was that being the best friend, he was constantly hearing about how fantastic Jeff was, and how different they were.

He often wished to be more like Jeff, but his temper decided to show its ugly horns and take him right back to thinking it was never possible.

“Does my anger scare you?” He asked her as they sat on the school field making history notes.

“What?” The question seemed to catch her off guard and she lost herself for a second. “Of course not Mont. You know I’m not scared of you.”

“You hesitated. You’re scared.” He clenched his jaw and turned his head to the grass.

“No, I’m not, you just surprised me because I wasn’t expecting it. I promise you.” She placed her hand over his own, smiling gently. He shook his head in the direction of the school.

“Jeff’s coming.” Her expression when he mentioned his name did a complete 180. She was grinning so much he thought maybe her cheeks ached.

“Jeff!” She waved at him, standing to greet him. He pulled her in for a kiss. Monty averted his eyes.

“Oh, sorry for the PDA man.” Jeff chuckled, coming to sit next to him, Y/N returning to her spot.

“Yeah keep it in private.” He nodded. Y/N glanced at Jeff with an amused expression. Montgomery decided he would ignore the exchanged glances at his expense.

—–

“You look pissed. I mean you always do, but more so than usual.” She stated. They were sat on her bed watching a movie. “You know I’m always here…”

“Oh look, she’s an observer now.” He mocked. He began to realise how bothered he was getting at her presence. It was a struggle having her around nowadays knowing how un-reciprocated his feelings were, and how he could never confess. Her compassionate and caring nature was making everything worse.

“Don’t be a dick Monty. I just wanted to know what was wrong so I could help you. But whatever.”

So he decided to push her away in the only way Monty knew.

“Don’t bother trying. You never could help and you’ll never be able to.” Monty could see that this was hurting her, but for some reason he kept going. “I don’t know how you haven’t realised yet that I’m broken beyond repair and you’re just another fucking pile of salt adding to my wound.”

“Monty stop?! Where is this coming from? You don’t really mean this.” Tears were brimming at her eyes. Why was he being like this? Where had this come from?

“Yes I fucking do.” He spat, staring off into the TV screen.

“Right. Fine. If I’m such a fucking hindrance to you then I’m leaving.” She stood up and collected her things. “Don’t expect me to be back. Ever.” The door slammed with force.

Once she was out the door he realised what a mistake he’d made.

“Fuck. Y/N WAIT!!” He ran to the door, but all he saw was her car driving away.

—–

47 texts. 30 missed calls. Those were the stats on Y/N’s phone under Montgomery’s contact. She knew he snapped. He had always had anger issues, but this hurt her and she didn’t need to be made to feel like that by her best friend.

“He’ll come around, babe.” Jeff rubbed her back.

“He’s already tried. Twice in the past week. My mum is worried something’s happened between us.” She rolled her eyes.

“I can try and talk to him again.”

“No, Jeff. He needs to know I’m serious about this. He can’t just treat me like shit because I’ve dealt with him the longest.”

“Okay, you know I’m always here. He always has been a little… tetchy.”

“I know I’m angry at him, but he’s still my best friend.”

Truthfully, she already missed him.

—–

Knock, knock.

Not a-fucking-gain. She internally groaned.

This time she would open the door and tell him to fuck off. He’d made his bed, now he should lay in it. She was the only one home, so she ran down to open the door.

“Y/N!” He was haggard. His eyes told her that he hadn’t slept a wink since their disagreement, and his hair was limp and greasy. It was evident that he was surprised that she’d opened the door.

“Fuck. Off.” She began to pull the door up but Monty held it open.

“Wait! Please. Just hear me out.” He pleaded.

“Why should I?”

“You shouldn’t, really. But you will because you’re kind, and caring, and you think everyone deserves a second chance.”

“You know me too well, shoot.”

“Okay, so, there is NO excuse for what I said to you, I know. This isn’t a justification, it’s an explanation. You know I have anger problems, and that is part of it, but most of it is something I’ve tried to hide for so long now.”

She looked concerned, pulling her arms into herself.

“I’m hoping after I tell you this we can go back to normal, just ignore it ever happened. Don’t worry though, I’m not counting on it. Okay… so….” he breathed heavily. He was finally going to tell his best friend of 13 years that he was pathetically in love with her.

“I am majorly, stupidly, pathetically, in love with you Y/N L/N. In love, not just ’I love you as my best friend’. I don’t expect you to say anything, I just couldn’t deceive you any longer.” He stood twiddling his thumbs while she watched in shock. It felt like eons went by.

“Okay. That’s all. Thanks for hearing me out.” He turned and made his way down her road, his head spinning, but feeling a weight off his shoulder. He’d done something he’d never expected of himself. Maybe he’d ruined the best thing he’d ever had in his life, but it was too late now.

Something tugged his arm and turned him. It was Y/N. Her eyes were speckled with tears as they looked up at his.

Girls made of snow, language made of thorns, and putting ourselves back in the narrative

I’ve had some ideas swirling around my head ever since I finished reading Girls Made of Snow and Glass by Melissa Bashardoust that condensed while I was reading Leigh Bardugo’s short story collection The Language of Thorns, so I want to talk about it a little.

It started with the realization that Girls made of Snow, while it is a Snow White retelling (or perhaps better called a reimagining), completely leaves out the whole seven dwarves part of the story. In my review, I pointed this out as something I liked — the story didn’t need to sidetrack there, and it kept us focused on the real core of the story: Lynet’s relationship with her stepmother, Mina. Lynet being Snow White, Mina is the Evil Queen.

The book alternates chapters between Lynet’s present day and Mina’s journey from the daughter of a sorcerer to the bride of Lynet’s father, making Mina the second main character. This is where the book’s “feminist fantasy reimagining” tagline comes in. The point of Bashardoust’s story is to explore the stepmother-daughter relationship and how they could come into conflict without it being about who is the fairest of them all.

The point of tension Bashardoust goes for is about politics and power, a much more satisfying reason than “well, women get angry when another woman is prettier, that’s all”. But the framework of Snow White also gives her plenty of room to work with how women’s appearances and age are seen and judged. What if Lynet’s beauty binds her to her dead mother in a way that strangles her, while Mina struggles with knowing her beauty gains her what respect she commands and aging could steal it away? The commentary that emerges isn’t new — I think we all realize how damaging the value placed on women’s appearances is — but using the cultural touchstone of Snow White makes this version powerful. It’s probably my favorite thing about the book, even above giving Lynet a female love interest, which is something we’re going to circle back to.

Keep reading

Anonymous asked: (jock!dean & nerd!cas) Cas sending Dean one of those school anon flower valentines day things with a little personalized note (cough cough mean girls) but thinking he’s not going to notice his specially. Little does he know Dean sent one to him as well.

Castiel was staring at the bulletin board, his mouth dry and his heart hammering against his rib cage as he read the new announcement.

Valentine’s Day 2016 at Lawrence High

Anonymously send a rose with personal note to the one you desire, our cupid will deliver the message on Friday February 12th.’

There was more information about how and where to leave your message, but Castiel knew that he had to talk himself out of this horrible idea before he gave in. Because he was this close to actually doing it. This close to acting on his feelings, to throw caution to the wind. This close to finally doing something about his crush on the most popular guy in school.

“Hey, Cas!” A cheerful voice called his name from not too far away, and suddenly an arm was casually draped around his shoulder. “I can already tell what you’re thinking, and I think that you should go for it.”

Charlie Bradbury, Castiel’s best friend, was wiggling her eyebrows at him, nodding at the school’s special Valentine’s offer.

Castiel sighed, shaking his head. “It’s pointless, we both know that.”

“Oh come on, you won’t know for sure if you don’t try!” Charlie countered immediately, one of her hands ruffling Castiel’s hair. “And honestly, if I have to watch you pine after Dean Winchester for another year, I will end up needing therapy.”

“It is not funny.” Castiel grumbled, giving his friend a sideways glare.

“You’re right, it’s not.” Charlie agreed. “Therapy costs a fortune.

“Charlie!” Castiel warned, lightly smacking his friend’s arm as he continued to glower at her.

Charlie surrendered, holding up her hands, calling a truce.

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry! I’m just saying, as a friend, that this is your chance, Cas. And it’s anonymous, so what do you have to lose, really?”

Castiel sighed, staring at the bulletin board again as he pondered that question.

“My sanity?” He offered after some time had passed.

Charlie shrugged. “Even better. If it doesn’t work out you can join me in therapy, maybe we’ll get a group discount.”

When Castiel reached out to reprimand her with another gentle slap to the arm, she moved out of the way before he could strike.

“Look, all I’m saying is, think about it. And before you start the whole he’s-popular-and-I’m-not argument again… It shouldn’t matter, as far as I know, Dean’s nice to everyone.” Charlie said, more serious now. “I gotta get to class, but I’ll see you at lunch, alright?”

Castiel muttered a goodbye in return when Charlie turned around and took off, feeling anxious as he considered the idea once more. The wise thing would be to forget about it altogether…

~

One week later, Castiel was deeply regretting the decision he’d made.

February 12th. He froze in his seat the second the door to the classroom opened in the middle of Math class. In walked Garth Fitzgerald, the janitor. Some students said that Garth wasn’t right in the noodle. When looking at him now, dressed in nothing but a giant white diaper with a pair of fake wings and a bow and arrow to match, Castiel suspected that they were right.

“I come bearing gifts.” Garth declared in a dramatic tone, holding up his right hand, the one that held at least fifteen red roses.

To make matters worse, of course it had to happen during the only class that Castiel shared with Dean. This was a scene taken directly from one of Castiel’s worst nightmares.

Garth was handing out roses here and there, and Castiel bit his lip, sinking lower in his chair, mortified. Jo Harvelle got one, and so did Victor Henriksen. Meg Masters got two, and Meg’s friend Ruby had scored three.

“Dean Winchester, six for you, the school record.” Garth whistled as he dumped the roses on Dean’s desk with an elegant hand gesture.

Dean frowned, green eyes narrowing. He looked sincerely surprised.

Castiel breathed out for the first time in what felt like ages, feeling a little defeated. Dean got six, of course. It wasn’t the first time that Castiel was reminded of just how doomed his infatuation with the guy truly was. He made up his mind there and then; he was never going to confess that one of those roses was his doing. Dean would never know that one of the messages came from Castiel, and everything would go back to normal.

“Castiel Novak, one for you.”

Castiel flinched when Garth’s voice was practically singing his name. Next thing he knew, a rose was placed on his desk. Almost all of Castiel’s classmates were staring at him, shock painted on their faces. Dean wasn’t one of them though, he was stiffly staring down at the roses on his own desk.

Garth had already moved on to another victim, and Castiel blinked at his rose, dumbstruck. There had to be some kind of misunderstanding. No one ever even paid attention to shy Castiel Novak with the dorky glasses.

Curious nonetheless, Castiel discreetly checked the card.

‘You’re awesome, don’t let anyone ever tell you otherwise. PS: I think I could drown in your eyes, and I wouldn’t even mind if did.’

Castiel tried to hide a laugh. This had ‘Charlie’ written all over it. This was a typical case of Castiel’s best friend trying to make him feel better. He could appreciate the joke, and he was kind of thankful that she’d taken the time to make him feel like less of an outcast.

He decided to go find her as soon as class ended, so that he could thank her.

~

Charlie was at the library, using one of the school computers. Castiel grinned as he hugged her from behind, surprising her.

“Whoa, Cas. What was that for? You never hug unless it’s a matter of life or death.” Charlie accused as she turned her head, dragging her eyes away from the screen. “The last time you hugged me was back in kindergarten when my cat died.”

Castiel rolled his eyes. So perhaps she was right, but that was not the point.

“Very funny… I just wanted to thank you for getting me a rose, that was nice of you. The part about drowning in my eyes was impressive, especially considering that you’re not even into males.”

Charlie’s hands slid away from the keyboard, and she turned in her chair to stare up at Castiel, appearing to be completely clueless.

“Rose?” She asked, raising an eyebrow. “That sure as hell wasn’t me… I sent you a friendship card, it should be waiting for you in the mail when you get home.”

There was no doubt that Charlie was speaking the truth; Castiel knew his friend well enough to detect when she was lying.

Castiel’s blood turned to ice. Someone had pranked him. Great. Predictable, but embarrassing all the same. Without thinking, Castiel rushed out of the library. He heard Charlie call after him, but he didn’t stop, aiming for some fresh air and some alone time instead…

~

It was chilly outside, even though the sun was struggling to break through the clouds. Castiel shivered as he took in the empty school yard. It wasn’t time for lunch break yet, which meant that he was alone. Perfect.

He made his way over to a group of trees, sitting down on a wooden bench that was still slightly damp. Putting down his bag, he took a deep breath. Now that he could think clearly, he realized that he was overreacting. It had simply been a prank, and whoever had pulled it, at least the message hadn’t included any mean or harmful words…

“Cas?”

Castiel nearly fell off the bench at the sound of that voice, deep and warm, calling his name so casually.

“Hello…” Castiel mumbled as he looked up into troubled green eyes. “Dean.” He added in an even smaller voice when he realized that this was probably bad news.

Like this, Dean was towering over him, and Castiel felt the need to get up to his feet as well, so that they at least were on the same level. When he did just that, Dean was even closer, and Castiel took a tiny step back.

Did Dean know? Had someone found out about Castiel sending him that rose? Castiel felt sick to his stomach at the mere thought.

“Can I talk to you, Cas?”

For reasons unknown, Dean sounded nothing like the confident guy that Castiel knew, and it was a bit unsettling.

“I… Yes, I guess.” Castiel permitted helplessly, trapped by both those eyes and the intense look on that handsome face.

Dean nodded, but stayed silent for a brief amount of time, as if collecting his thoughts. Castiel shamelessly used that pause to count the freckles on Dean’s nose, until he caught himself in the act and swiftly averted his eyes.

“Look, I think this whole anonymous thing with the roses is one big load of crap.” Dean suddenly stated out of the blue, breaking the silence and making Castiel look up at him again. “I mean, why send someone a message if you’re not even gonna tell them it’s you, right? Besides, it’s weird and awkward…”

Oh no… Dean knew. It felt like Dean’s gaze was boring right into Castiel’s very soul, digging up all of the secrets that he’d tried to keep hidden for so long.

Castiel contemplated running away and hiding in a cave forever, or moving to the other side of the country. Anything, something to get away from Dean Winchester, as well as impending humiliation. But Castiel was not a coward, never had been. He stood a little straighter, squaring his shoulders, a confession on his lips, just waiting to spill out.

“I’m sorry, Dean…” He apologized, loud and clear. “Sending you that rose was stupid, I know it was irrational, and I should’ve known that it would make you uncomfortable. I wasn’t thinking…”

The dumbfounded expression on Dean’s face that followed after, was not what Castiel had anticipated. This entire conversation was getting more confusing by the minute.

You? No Cas, I was talking about me!” Dean blurted out, face turning pink. “I sent you a rose… I think you’re cute, and smart, and your eyes are just… they’re gorgeous, okay? That’s what I’m trying to tell you, because otherwise what even would the point be, huh?”

Dean was grinning sheepishly, one hand rubbing the back of his neck as he waited for Castiel to say something.

Castiel couldn’t believe what he was hearing, shocked that Dean even knew he existed, let alone that he’d taken an interest in Castiel.

“So did you… Was I the only one who got a rose from you?” Castiel eventually questioned, not knowing what else to say.

Dean put his hand over his heart in mock offense. “Of course! I think one Valentine’s date at a time is enough, don’t you.” He winked at Castiel, and Castiel was officially lost.

“Y-You want to ask me on a date, Dean?”

“Yeah, I do…” Dean replied with a grin. “But first, I wanna know which one of those six messages was yours.”

Again, Castiel was reminded of his competition, but he suddenly felt less nervous. This was Dean, captain of the football team, the popular kid, yet he seemed genuinely vulnerable when talking to Castiel. It made Castiel confident enough to tease him a little.

“How about you guess which one it was?” Castiel said, tilting his head as he challenged Dean.

Dean weighed his options, squinting at Castiel. “Okay… Do I get a bonus if I guess it right away?”

Castiel laughed at Dean’s obvious enthusiasm. “You’ll see.”

Again, Dean was staring at him, as if trying to lift the answer straight from Castiel’s mind. Castiel gladly took yet another opportunity to map Dean’s freckles.

“Ha!” Dean shouted triumphantly, almost making Castiel jump. “It was the message that compared my freckles to the constellations, wasn’t it!”

Damn.

Lucky for Dean, Castiel wasn’t a sore loser. Dean had earned that bonus, fair and square. In a moment of extreme bravery, Castiel stood on his tiptoes and lightly kissed Dean on the lips. When Dean pulled him closer and started kissing him back, Castiel could tell that this was going to be the best Valentine’s day ever.