#we have privilege IF we pass and frankly from my understanding

[some-rambling-guy]

"a non-passing trans man is treated just like a cis woman" no the fuck we are not

[thevioletfury]

Domesticity– Kuro One-Shot

Summer heat and unfamiliar places lead to restless nights. Ciel and Elizabeth talk. Married life fluff. Rated T/M(?). 2k words.

“Can’t sleep?” Ciel’s voice rang out from his place in the balcony doorway, his slender frame leaned against the frame. He appeared more boyish than usual; standing barefoot with tousled hair and wearing a matching pajama set that were rolled at the ankles and wrists, an homage to his former self. Now at 19, his youthfulness continued to find ways to stick around.

“Well, thrashing around in bed would only irritate both of us, so I’m trying to bore myself back to sleep”. Elizabeth responded without glancing up from the page in her book, Walden by Henry David Thoreau, illuminated by a single candle on the glass table next to her. She sat curled up in a chair on their balcony, though it was really her balcony since she was the only one who used it. “It’s far too stifling inside, I couldn’t take it anymore” She admitted plainly. 

It only took a couple strides for Ciel to take his seat next to her. Height was one of his indicators that he was not a child anymore. At around 15 he’d caught up to Lizzy’s height, and by 17 he noticed he could see clear over the top of her head. “The manor still isn’t to your liking?” He posed to her, his gaze wandering off into gardens and forest below them. 

Three months had passed since their wedding, though if you told her it had been merely days, she would’ve believed you. Nothing was to her liking because this manor was not hers, it was theirs. Frankly, Elizabeth was not used to sharing anything prior to marriage. She had a brother, but their lives were entirely separate. Then suddenly on a random day in April, she was sharing an estate, a name, and a bedroom with someone else. It was incredibly odd to her to not be waking up in the same room she had been for the past 20 years of her life. The adjustment had been difficult on Ciel too, that went without saying. He had been quite comfortable with his solitude and enjoyed having control over the frequency of company. On that same day in April, that privilege was taken away too. They were always in each other’s space and still trying to find the rhythm of their life. And now, to agitate things further, it was the peak of summer. 

Unable to come up with a more eloquent response, Elizabeth said, “It’s just hot”, sighing softly as she adjusted in her spot. If it weren’t for the optometrist nagging her about reading in the dark, she would’ve snuffed out the candle ages ago. Even the slightest amount of heat it emitted was seemingly canceling out any scarce breeze that came along. Finally, she closed her book in her lap. “I’m just restless, it’s no one’s fault but my own”.

Ciel looked at her. She had grown up too, more than himself, he’d argue. Her hair was always down, framing a face that had sharpened from once being stout. The way her eyebrows were always slightly furrowed made it appear that she was in a constant train of deep thought, a trait no doubt adopted from her mother. Sharp, calm, and opinionated was how he’d describe her. All her girly traits and pleasures were still there under the hard shell she had created to protect herself, just over time they became more strictly reserved for those closest to her. He understood this all too well and did not question her when she had started to change. He’d been numb to her beauty before, but the longer he stayed around her, the quicker the ice within began to thaw. 

Her explanation was met with a hum. It’s not that he was indifferent to her discomfort. If she asked for something, he’d see to it immediately. They both knew this, sitting and silently staring at one another in the darkness. “Should we go for a walk?” He suggested, gesturing to the vast acreage at their disposal below. 

Elizabeth turned her head slightly in confusion, like a dog that can’t understand what is being told of them to do. “At this hour? And with no shoes?” She asked, her book moving from her lap to the table as she adjusted her nightgown around her legs. This was another thing she was not used to: the freedom that came with marriage. There was no more chaperoning or parental observation. It was just the two of them and the privacy their home provided. It was freeing. Surely, she understood that this was quite the paradoxical take on marriage for the times. Many women her age, many that she personally knew, would rather describe their arrangements similar to that of a bird having its wings clipped. Grounded, caged, and miserable. Ciel never made her feel that way though, intentionally or not. 

“Shoes can be easily acquired” He responded cooly, a successful attempt at humor in her opinion. He sat forward in his chair, his own tiredness revealing itself around his eyes. If he felt compelled to, he was close enough that he could reach out and touch her, but he didn’t. “I think it would help if we did” He said as a way to compel her to agree with him. He used this tactic often, even if it really was just for her benefit. 

Contemplating, her eyes narrowed at him, waiting for him to change his mind or suggest something else. Reciprocated silence was all she received, causing her to reach over and pinch out the flame. “Alright, let’s find you some shoes then” She said as she stood, taking his arm and tucking her book under the other. 

-

They walked arm in arm through the garden paths, the white moonlight lightening everything enough to be navigated in the dark. The pair was silent, not stopping to admire anything like you normally would in the daytime. Despite being closer than ever before, they didn’t know what to do with each other. Marriage had widely opened the door for intimacy, but the furthest they’d got was fervent kissing and uncertain groping. The truth was that neither of them were ready for the consequences that came with the act of being intimate; that they both agreed on. In the first few weeks of their marriage, Elizabeth realized something else. Most of their personal interactions throughout adolescence had been centered around conflict. It had been fighting, bleeding, arguing, testing, and crying. And now that there was no conflict, they did not know how to interact. Now there was just domesticity that they were both unfamiliar with.

“Do you have a favorite animal?” Ciel asked out of the blue after some time, choosing which paths they were walking along. He knew them best.

The question dragged Elizabeth back down to Earth from her thoughts so suddenly that she wasn’t sure he had even opened his mouth to speak. Perhaps the walk really was helping her become tired. “A favorite animal?” She repeated back, mostly to make sure she wasn’t completely hallucinating. 

“Yes, if you have one” He responded simply.

Elizabeth thought about it for a moment. This was one of the lesser profound questions she’d been asked by him, grateful in her exhausted state that it lacked complexity. She mentally narrowed it down to a few options before giving her final answer. “Deer. I think deer are my favorite. I’ve always had an affinity towards them”.

Ciel turned to her at this, though she did not move from his arm, so they were standing terribly close. Marble benches and statues around them were exceptionally illuminated from the moon. “And why is that?” He asked. 

Even given the warmth in the dead of night that had bothered her so badly before, she couldn’t help but lean into the heat he was giving off. “Well… they’re pretty innocent animals. They’re too small to be put to work but too big to be domesticated by humans. So they just… exist”. She explained to him, allowing their bodies to continue moving in tandem. 

“Do your parents know about your fascination with deer?”. His voice almost carried some laughter in it. It was ironic given that her parents were avid hunters, taking pride in slaughtering an animal she cared so deeply about. Even Ciel knew about this obsession, which caused her to smile as a childhood memory resurfaced in her mind. 

Nodding as she briefly closed her eyes to recall the story. “Yes, in fact when I was young, maybe 9 or 10, I wrote my father this long letter about how I didn’t want him to hunt deer anymore. He was upset that I was defying him in a way but also impressed that I was able to speak my mind so freely at a young age”. She said up to him, leaning her head against the side of his arm. 

Now, he was laughing, or really more of an amused chuckle. Probably imagining the dramatics of it all, something her father was an expert in. “Please tell me you remember what you wrote in that letter. Or still have it stored away somewhere so I can read it”.

“Something about how deer are God’s creatures and that it’s cruel to hunt something just because it doesn’t serve a human purpose”. Elizabeth smiled as she replayed the scenes, looking much different from a child’s perspective. It really was an earnest attempt on her part. “My father won’t give the letter back to me. So if you want to see it, you’ll have to ask him”.

Satisfied with her reply, they fell back into a comfortable silence. They were not keeping track of time while they walked, though it was obvious morning was approaching as the sky slowly transformed into a deep shade of blue instead of black. Eventually, the question was reciprocated.

“Owls. I think they’re fascinating” Ciel answered after his own pause of contemplation. “I don’t have some historical emotional attachment like you do though, so my answer is far less interesting”, he teased. At some point, they stopped underneath a tree that made the manor appear small in the distance. 

“You know–” She started, having detached herself from his arm to lean against the tree instead. “– now that I think about it, you’re a lot like a deer”. 

“How so?” He inquired back, crossing his arms across his chest as he waited for a response. He felt that she was always coming up with the most intelligent things to say. It always impressed him.

Smiling, which was never a good sign from her, reaching her hands forward to rest on his chest. “Well… you have these big, round, beautiful eyes that everyone can’t seem to resist” She started, eliciting an eye roll from Ciel. “...And you have these long limbs you still don’t seem to know what to do with” She continued, enjoying the way it made him shake his head and smile. “And I think you’re very innocent, regardless of what you think”.

Ciel looked at her for a long while, finding strange comfort in her words. It wasn’t necessarily a compliment, but rather a fond observation he was unaware she’d been making. Years in the making, he’d bet. He knew too that partially he was being taunted back, but did not mind. “What about the whole domestication part? Do you think that’s accurate too?”. He asked, disguising his need for confirmation as playful banter.

Her eyes narrowed again as she considered her reply. She saw right through the disguise. Normally she would gush over him, tell him that he’s a fantastic husband and even more reliable partner, and to never question it. Deeply, she still believed all that to be true, but chose a different response instead. “I do, but I’m more than content to just exist with you. There’s really nothing else I’d ask for in this life”. 

So, they returned back to their manor and their bed, no longer restless. Still hot, but definitely not restless.

[drdemonprince]

I think it goes deeper than that: people are afraid of having scars at all. For trans dudes it's a giveaway that they're trans, therefore, something that can put them in active danger but... existing as a trans man and being public about it can put you in danger either way! So you need to be the most stealth scar-free cis-passing Man™️and only then, you can have a good and worry-free life, right? I wonder about that...

In my eyes, scars are proof that you survived some kind of hardship and as a trans person with several scars from SRSs, they are my little trophies. I don't really care if that's a giveaway that I'm trans, I'm doing it for myself anyway.

A scarred body is not any less beautiful or less attractive. It's wonderful in its own unique ways, something to be proud of.

Yeah, one of the pinned posts on the top surgery subreddit is a list of the other types of surgeries that result in similar scars, encouraging trans men who are 'stealth' to use those as an excuse should they ever risk being outed. On the one hand, I obviously understand there's a real risk of violence that many in our community face, and I don't think anyone has a responsibility to out themselves. At the same time, I find that trans mascs especially can be a little overly dramatic about our genuine risk profile, and because so many of us can pass so easily and can so many privileges that go along with that, we tend as a group to cling to our proximity to cis manhood in a way that's very disgusting and ultimately does us a lot of psychological harm and cleaves us from our wider community. Many trans people will never be able to pass, passing should not be the goal any of us has to pursue, and we need to imagine something better for ourselves and our futures than simply disappearing.

I like my scars too. I completely understand if someone feels differently, or has scars that developed an unwanted or painful reaction, there's no pressure to actively feel good about one's body ever, but frankly all scars are fucking neat and aesthetic as fuck. like come on dont these look cool

[haunting-hufflepuffs-basement]

From the fandom asks thing: 4, 9, 10, 16

Im curious

OHOHO! Let's start some fights, shall we?

4. what was the last straw that finally made you block that annoying person?

So the only people I have blocked actually are people that I think most people would automatically block on sight: scammers, people trying to find out where you live, TERFS and homophobes, etc. I've never really had anyone bother me over things. I'm lucky that way!

9. Worst Part of Canon:

Oh gosh. Okay, so I want to say it's the really weird surface-level worldbuilding that leaves a lot of plot holes, but there's actually something worse for me: the misogyny. And not like, there are characters that behave misogynistically, like the misogyny inherent in the writing. I'm about 90% certain that Harry Potter doesn't pass the Bechdel Test. Yes, I know the perspective character is a dude, but even the conversations Harry OVERHEARS between two girls are either glossed over or about a dude or both. The amount of prominent male characters vs. the amount of prominent female characters is frankly kind of ridiculous. There are other things you notice when you read the books as well, like how the women are far more likely to cry than the men and this is treated as a bad thing or a character weakness for the girls. Or how Ginny doesn't really have much of a character in canon (I kidnapped her and made her my own, canon doesn't deserve her) despite being just as prominent if not more important than some of her brothers and Harry's supposed love interest. Stuff like that. Also the fatshaming. Pretty privilege is REALLY prevalent in this fandom, but the books certainly didn't help by making most fat characters evil and disgusting (the Dursleys, Peter, Umbridge, etc.).

10. Worst part of Fanon:

For me, it's the notion that Peter isn't competent. Guys. Peter in canon is a cowardly slimeball, don't get me wrong, but bad at being a wizard---NO. He blew apart an entire street and killed 12 people, chopped off his own finger and transformed into a rat, and made it look like Sirius had both done the curse and killed him. He was successfully passing information to the Death Eaters for over a year and wasn't even CLOSE to getting caught since Sirius, James, and Lily still made him Secret Keeper. Those things didn't have anything to do with riding someone else's coattails, it's just Peter being damn good at his job. He was actually good at magic you guys. Probably above average actually, seeing as how he was able to hang with James and Sirius. You just don't notice it because James and Sirius are INSANELY good at magic. (Also the whole thing about making 11-15 year old Peter visibly and notably evil and bad or not a real friend or not part of the group and also the fact that he doesn't get redeemed half as much as people like Barty, Evan, and Regulus because there's that pretty privilege again. Drives me nuts. Anyways.)

16. You can't understand why so many people like this thing (trope, headcanon, characterization, etc.)

I will level with you all, I do not understand Drarry. And this isn't me not getting enemies to lovers or the Slytherin x Gryffindor appeal or the quidditch rivals or WHATEVER because I like Jegulus. But for all the similarities that Harry and James have and even for all the similarities that Regulus and Draco have, I don't like it. I think one of the biggest things is that people do usually put in the work with Jegulus stuff to "redeem" Regulus and have him unlearn his unhealthy behaviors, whereas in Drarry fics it tends to get glossed over. It also probably has something to do with the fact that Harry spent 7 years HATING Draco. I don't think that was "obsessed with him because I'm secretly in love" that was genuine hatred you guys. I don't buy it. Meanwhile Regulus and James have 0 canon interactions for me to judge their relationship with, so anything they do in fanon feels more plausible, especially seeing as how he canonically became friends with Sirius, who likely would have had some similar problems to Reg, despite Sirius' best efforts. Obviously no hate if you ship it, I just don't understand it. It's not for me, so I tend to avoid it like the plague so that I don't rain on everyone else's parade.

Thanks for asking! Everybody let me know why I'm wrong in the notes, and you're welcome to send me more asks about anything all the time always and forever!

[autisticbooknerd01]

When Needs Outweigh Support

I can pinpoint, with relative certainty, the tipping point where my support needs started to exceed the support I could reliably access.

As I write this, I have the instinct to check my privilege. My parents became experts in my brain and in my needs, mostly from scratch. As a unit, we got very good at building a support structure for me. Factor in that I am white, middle class, and can at least "pass" as cis/het (as problematic as "passing" is), and I understand that, as much as possible, I was set up for success.

But.

We didn't have the context that I was autistic, and when you don't know the full picture of what's going on, of how you're different, you can't know the full picture of what supports are healthy and helpful, let alone access them. The way our society supports (or does not support) disabled folks is, quite frankly, imperfect at best, but with some of the existing support structures and accommodations, things could have been better.

I saw someone on TikTok, explain that late diagnosis for them was like driving a broken down stick shift chevette. They managed to build the tools they needed to more-or-less survive in this world, and even achieve some success, but it took years longer than it should have to realize that most people around them were driving Teslas, and that with the right supports, they could have been driving one too. That rings true for me, although every autistic person is different; don't take my word as law for the autistic experience.

Back to the point (lol).

It was the summer before my junior year of high school where my support needs started to exceed the support I could access. It was my second year working at my summer job. The first year, my older brother was one of my coworkers (because, nepotism), but this year, it was just me and two other people. One of my coworkers was safe, but she didn't speak fluent "Me" the way my brother more-or-less could, so I couldn't ask for support and be certain that I would receive understanding. My first summer of work, with my brother, was anxiety inducing, but this summer was so much worse.

It escalated over the next year, with friend drama and school trips, but that was the start. By the time I had an overnight sport camp that summer, I was pleading with my dad (one of the assistant coaches) to please let me sleep in his trailer, but he said no.

I wouldn't be diagnosed for another five years, but it would get somewhat better after therapy, and medication.

Still, imagine how much more "successful" (in air quotes because what the hell even is success) if I had the support I needed.

So many people don't have that. We (the general, societal we) have done a poor job honoring the dignity and lives and cultures of people who do not fit a very narrow definition of "normal" and "acceptable."

Fuck that.

[burning-bubble-tea]

Sometimes I wonder about going on hormones and shit but then I wonder if I’d be doing it truly for myself or to just prove I’m “really” trans.

But then I wonder if my hesitancy with hormones is informed by internalized transphobia and fear of the medical institutions.

Like I know I’m trans. I’ve felt both gender dysphoria and euphoria. Also staring into a mirror and crying while listening to Dolly Parton sing “you’re a woman” doesn’t sound like a cisgender experience.

Like I kinda just wanna genderfuck my way through my transness? Like I think I look fine, I like my voice, I know for a fact I don’t pass that well and occasionally it bothers me yeah, being called and treated a man by a waiter at a restaurant sucks but I can grin and bear it. Like the diva dolls need their bricks to make them look better and I’m a proud brick that’s clocky in a cunty way.

I dunno it’s weird. Because I was assigned male at birth I don’t use they them as I use she and he to denote my sorta non binary feminine identity but I think if I was assigned female at birth I’d probably be using she/they.

Like I do want to present more fem but I’m not wearing a wig all the time and my natural hair doesn’t grow long, my mom has the same hair type as me, our hair does not grow long, we’re both limited to shorter hairstyles.

Like i probably could grow mine long but like my hair is so thick the process of getting to that length uhg it looks so bad.

Like during lockdown where I didn’t cut my hair for super long it just got really big like a birds nest. So whatever I have bangs and that’s fem enough for me.

Anyways, like every time I wear a skirt when I’m not like in full drag, I feel like a femboy and it’s not great. Like I think it’s internalized transphobia mixed with gender dysphoria, but skirts emphasize my masculine features in a way I don’t enjoy.

Coats with a wait cinching belt is my compromise.

I dunno, I know for sure I’m existing as a trans person, but I’m not super open about it other than with friends cause like, I dunno, I just think people will think I’m faking it for clout or some shit. Or I’m taking up space from those who “actually” deserve it. Cause like, yeah sure I benefit from male privilege. Whatever. I don’t enjoy it though.

I do wish I could be more open about my transness but I really am bad representation for trans women. And that’s on the issue of representation in politics, not on other trans people. Like because we’re constantly fighting to be recognized as humans, anyone who messes up the clean categories that systems demand makes it harder for them to understand us. I know sometimes we have to pick our battles. Like I am the trans person some people are afraid of. The essentially still man in their eyes. But like I don’t plan on participating in any sports, I frankly only use the men’s and gender neutral bathrooms. I’m also asexual and don’t want sex. But if I start being too loud about my transness, I’m afraid of being accused of lying or attention seeking or some shit.

Like non medical transitioning is so valid, look at me hello im valid. But like, we’re trying to fight for healthcare access as trans people, and for me to be like “I actually don’t want any of the medical treatments”; it’s a nightmare of mine to be used as an example to gatekeep another.

“Why do you need to go on hormones? That trans person didn’t” well good for me, but that person wants hormones and their experience of transness is different.

Like I don’t need the law to tell me if my transness is valid or not, but I need to protect our rights as trans people. And not to use us as political scapegoats.

[userholland]

i saw your announcement and came to ask asap. can you like do a hurt/comfort blurb where reader and tom get into an argument and he goes to sleep in a different place and like he forgets to say i love you but he always says i love you so reader gets upset and they try to make up????? tysm i really love your writing

pairing－ tom holland x fem!reader [hurt/comfort au]

contains－ plain angst, privilege snooty kids, poor communication, sweet and comforting ending (like y'all know gotta go your own way in hsm. its like that. mwah)

word count－ 1k

masterlist | blurb requests open! (nsfw + fluff)

Ironically, it was stressful dating a celebrity (especially one you grew up with from the start). It wasn't only hard to watch the man you love taking on the fame but adjusting to what felt like a new lifestyle.

Sometimes, you wish you could flashback to regular nights without the constant paranoia that a camera was over your shoulder or some celebrity friend would call last minute about a party invite. As exciting as it was for Tom, he didn't realize it had taken a toll on you as well and you'd reach your limit tonight.

The night started out glamorous and grand because Tom's new friends asked him to come to a new bar, supposedly it's going to take off and all so, Tom should pay his mind to it. Suggesting that he could stay in with you after his long day on set, he insisted on going still.

Now, you didn't have a problem with him wanting to do what he wants, you loved going out together, but the people he surrounded himself with weren't favorable. They were loud, entitled, and fresh to Hollywood, coming off as snooty, although you admitted it could be that this is just new to you and you weren't around your "normal" friends.

As much as you wanted to keep on a smile the whole night, it became harder with every word you had to listen to. Tom was having fun, at least to your eyes he was, extending his overtired feeling just to socialize, but you didn't understand most of the conversations since they were clearly about acting.

Just as you wanted to start a new conversation, Angela, his co-star, drunkenly giggled as she asked what you were working on. When answering that you weren't an actor, she acted as if you were a nerd joining the cool kids' table. There was something so condescending about her answer that it boiled your blood.

"I'm gonna go." You blatantly said, not taking the treatment. You tossed your napkin on your chair before leaving toward the exit.

Tom quickly got up, following right behind you and he gently grabbed your wrist right when you got past the entrance, "Where are you going?"

"Home, or back to the apartment." You spat, pulling your arm back.

"Why? We were having a good time-"

"You. You were having a good time. Those people are awful, and I don't care what you say, I just won't take that." You tell him, wanting to scoff at his ignorance.

"C'mon, you're being a bit dramatic." He stated.

"Dramatic? You're all dramatic. Laughing about your camera angles and exposé... whatever that is. You guys sound a bit insufferable. This isn't like you at all."

A few people passing stared at you two arguing so, Tom guided you toward the alley where you could get more privacy and could only hope no one was taking a video or picture.

"Y/N-"

"No, I'm not gonna stay. Frankly, I don't want to be here. I was hoping we got to go back to London and just... feel normal for a few days, but you insisted on hanging out with these kinds of people who hurt my feelings for not being famous. When's the last time you called your friends anyways? It's like... you're a different person."

Tom, offended, rolled his eyes at your comment, "Okay, let's just settle this in the morning and just put on a nice smile and go back in there."

"No, I just can't be here right now." You said, and he pulled back.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means I wanna leave. Are you coming with me or not?" You ask him as if it was a question, but his hesitation with silence following didn't comfort you, "Tom?"

He clenched his jaw, his heart thudding against his chest, "No, I'm not leaving."

You scoff, "Then don't bother coming back if you want to sit around with a bunch of people who only care about your career and not you."

After you turned around to head to the apartment, Tom gulped as he wanted to mutter your name. He so badly could give in, saying he's sorry and that he loved you, but he was so angry that he didn't want to speak it out of a place it shouldn't come from the unsettling stress he felt. It wasn't fair to make him choose, but at the same time, it seemed like a no-brainer. You didn't want to lose each other. Just as he wanted to say "i love you" across the street, you did too, but instead, you two went your separate ways.

－ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

In the morning, Tom's eyes ached as if someone punched him deep in his sockets. The dryness under his eyes was unbearable and he only felt pain in his neck and back from how uncomfortable his friend's couch was all night.

You weren't doing so hot either. Leaning over the bed to avoid the pillow and sheets where his cologne lingered, constantly replaying the moment in your head and wishing you hadn't made him choose. You were emotional but so cruel to him with less than a valid explanation.

Both of you fucked up, and it had to be said.

Just as you reached for your phone, there was a knock at the door. As you rolled out of bed, feeling like you were coming down from a cold, you went to the front door and opened it to see Tom standing there with tired, red eyes.

"About last night-"

"No, I'm sorry. I'm sorry." You told him.

He nodded, "I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have just left you... especially without saying 'I love you'." Tom gulped.

"Me too..." You trailed, "Me too."

Without hesitating, the two of you embraced a tight hug as if you'd been apart for years. It wasn't the worst fight you had, but one that you decided to leave each other's sides after vowing to never do that to one another.

"I love you so much." He said against your ear, still hugging you.

"I love you so much too." You whimpered.

He kissed your forehead, not letting you go to make up for the time you were apart. Dramatic as it seemed, you both realized how much you truly adored each other and how special your love was.

[industrialpityangels]

Like these are places I grew up in, places I pass by on a daily.

Idk these people personally but I understand the experiences. Being Latino, being affected by racism, being perceived a certain way. The fear we all carry despite a good chunk of our community is hardworking, giving back to the neighborhood in several different ways. These are people just living, trying to sustain themselves.

I'm lucky to at least have birthright citizenship which ik some ppl would say to be quiet and stop being overdramatic but this shit affects all of us. The people being randomly detained and taken from their homes/work are no different from people who got their citizenship other than a fucking piece of paper.

The rage from all of us isn't from just now, it's YEARS, DECADES worth of piled up fear. We're tired. I'm tired of seeing people who simply want a better life for their families being legally kidnapped and having outsiders who've never experienced or have the privilege to not deal with it long find ways to justify that.

Frankly idgaf if people are fighting back against ICE. this never had to do with safety in the US, they're detaining literal fucking children, hardworking adults. I know how this shit is. I grew up with it, I'm first gen American in my family. People just want their family back, people they know to not be separated and sent back to where they tried leaving in the first place. There's only so much a peaceful gathering can do at some point, nobody will tolerate being gassed and shot with rubber bullets. I genuinely don't give a fuck if people are fighting back against ICE.

They're not wild. They're not monsters. We're not a general danger to society, but when you're backed into a corner and fucked over by the government for so fucking long, there's only so much people could tolerate. It's not only ICE, it's the police, it's employers, it's the people in the streets, so fucking hateful that they feel the need to assert their made up superiority and hurt us for no reason.

I would never fucking double down because I'm lucky enough to be considered a citizen, all that separates me from them is a fucking paper and even then the government doesn't think that's enough. I love my community, I love the cultures I grew up with, being part of it or not. I see being Latino more than just easy employment that's just as easily disposable. It's more than fucking crime rates that the government contributes to.

The ICE raids over here are getting closer and closer to me fml

[cinnamonest]

Daily Life - Yandere Childe, Zhongli, Xiao

A continuation of the earlier post about Kaeya and Diluc

Content Warnings: n/s/f//w mentions/themes/stuff (but not like, explicit detail), fem reader, normal yandere stuff

==================

Childe's a busy guy. He wakes you up every morning, usually pretty sweetly. He'll nuzzle up against your face, mumbling a "good morning" into your ear. He's sweet, but, you gotta get up when he tells you to. And you have to be the one to make food, he likes watching you walk around.

If he's gone, he is again one to give darling a surprising amount of freedom. He has the highest quality of security available and all, so he allows some roaming. That and, in a sorta terrifying thought, he's one hundred percent confident that even if you got away, he could find you, so he's not even too worried about escaping. He's so confident that you'll never truly escape him, which frankly is pretty intimidating for darling to realize. He'll get you things you like and stuff to do, stimulate your mind and all that, probably as time goes on will leave you chore lists and things you're required to do for him or else.

When he gets back, he's very tired usually, will expect you to make him food and be sweet and greet him at the door when he comes back, preferably on your knees. If you're not, he'll get irritated, especially if you're trying to hide. If you're just asleep or something, he might excuse it and find it cute. But he does a lot for you, you know, the least you can do is this one little thing. If he's had a particularly bad day, he'll be extra irritated, so it's wise to follow this command, and be ready to have all of his irritation taken out on you the moment he gets back. You're his favorite little stress ball to stuff and squeeze.

For days off, as I've said before he's one of the few that will willingly take you outside, and unlike Kaeya from the last routine post he's not in a bad mood about it either. He likes to show you off, likes walking in public holding hands or with his arm around you so that people can see, it gives him a sort of pride, and honestly he likes mimicking a "normal" relationship. But just know you're on a tight leash. Not literally of course... yet. He lays it out very clearly exactly how you are to behave when going outside, not speaking to others and not going out of his sight. Any attempts to make a scene, try to get a stranger to help etc will be dealt with fairly harshly. And don't think about pulling some covert, sneaky shit like trying to look at a stranger with the "help me" facial expression or trying to silently mouth something, slip a written message to a waitress etc -- he'll be watching you closely enough to pick up on any of that, and honestly that will set him off more than blatantly trying to make a scene. You will be immediately headed home to get an attitude adjustment since you can't behave.

Later on, he'll want you to accompany him to his work sometimes, on those days that whatever he has to do involved more sitting down than fighting - paperwork, important meetings, etc. He likes your presence, of course, you make the time pass more quickly. But really this is, more than anything, because he's an arrogant show-off. He'll give you something to fiddle with but will just sit you on his lap throughout the whole time, gently stroking your thigh or resting his head on your shoulder, making you wear embarrassingly revealing things and making sure everyone sees, be it the entire group in a wide meeting hall or some subordinate come to have a one-on-one talk, or even his superiors, thanking them for them letting him bring his pet to work. It even allows him to get in some good de-stressing during the middle of the day when no one else is around. Expect lots of bring-your-fucktoy-to-work days like that.

Of course, not every day is spent out, though. He also has days he'd rather just stay at home. These days are usually after a long period of difficult work and late nights, so he's exhausted. Expect lots of naps, just cuddles and an arm wrapped around your waist (with a solid iron grip, of course). May or may not progress to slow cuddlefucking, who knows (yes it always does). He gets all whiny and demanding because he's soooo tired, so he'll make you get on top after a few rounds.

-------

Honestly we all envy my Zhongli's darling already, but God he's the best to wake up to. He just softly kisses the side of your face, running his hands down your sides. He can't let you sleep in too much, it's bad for your health! You can probably beg for a few minutes extra. And God, is it the best to wake up to. He's already got someone (probably one of the other adepti, a person, who knows) to make you food, and it's never skimping out either, it's always tons of food and your favorite things, too. Within limits, of course, can't have you eating nothing but things that are bad for you. He's also one that will get you tons of things to do throughout the day, virtually anything you ask for, he'll pay for (well... someone will, but you'll think he did, at least). He actually might also give you a list of very simple tasks to do, just to give you some motivation, since even if you have a lot to do, having no tasks and only play can get depressing without the sense of accomplishment. But he's much more lenient on your completion of all of them.

He's always reluctant to leave and gives you a lot of headpats and kisses before finally heading out for  the day, always taking time to contemplate whether or not he can just take the day off. During the day you'll stay in the confinements of your cage, be that an abode or a building somewhere, making sure you stand zero chance of ever getting out. If you force his hand (read: multiple escape attempts), he'll reluctantly have to limit your roaming abilities, but once you're confined to a smaller cage and have some privileges taken away, he's certain you'll be on your best behavior to get out again, and maybe be a little more grateful and understanding in the future. Once he gets back, it's generally a very nice time, he likes to lead a quiet life and will want to hear all about your day, what you did, see the progress on all those little projects you've been working on for art or music or whatever hobby you've taken up to pass the time. If he's had a bad day, he'll probably tell you about it, but you know, put it in terms simple enough for you to understand, since you wouldn't normally get such complicated matters.

On very very rare occasions, not nearly as often as Childe, he might take you to on his day with him, probably not during normal workdays, but for some kind of special day -- a large meeting, or the opposite, a day where he has nothing to do but slow paperwork alone in an office. The sunlight is good for you, and he'll bring stuff for you to do too. To be honest, it's not as obvious nor as obnoxiously vocal about it as Childe, but he also does enjoy having your presence in front of others, letting them see you. The things you'll have to wear aren't nearly as obscenely lewd as Childe's either, but they're not entirely wholesome either.

He really likes having off days. On those days, he'll probably want to take you somewhere, generally will do whatever you want to do. He's incredibly knowledgeable on everything in the area, and would probably also really like going out somewhere secluded in nature, rather than in the city, like a nice view from the nearby mountains or the like, and just spend a day there. It's nice, and far away from prying eyes that can't recognize your face off the missing person posters or witness the obscene things that may or may not take place up there.

 Spending time home is always nice too, though, just quietly going about the day and doing whatever you want, although inevitably taking breaks for much-needed... displays of physical affection. And he tries so hard to be gentle, but he also has a lot of stress pent up that may just come out and result in being a bit rougher than usual, but he's always apologetic afterward, making sure you're alright. He's also pretty strict about the time you go to bed. Making sure you get enough sleep and all that.

-------

Xiao's poor, poor darling. You always wake up to him shaking you awake. He's impatient. Once he feels you've had enough sleep, he'll get you up like that. Don't try to get more sleep-in time, he's not very gracious on that, will simply huff and yank you up. Otherwise, the mornings can be... Sweet. It's not like he's trying to be so cold all the time; if you're well behaved he can be pretty loving, even if he doesn't quite know how to be gentle. He just has... Low tolerance.

Xiao is very quiet for the most part, and the mornings have a sort of silent peacefulness provided it's one of your days that you don't choose to be difficult. He likes to watch you go about the morning. It's a little creepy to be honest? He just sits there nearby and watches you move around, make food, brush your hair or teeth or whatever. He'll eat whatever you make him, even if it's not one of his extremely limited liked items. He might complain, though.

During the times he IS gone, well, it's extremely boring for poor darling. Early on, or if you've done something to warrant it (read: literally the slightest word of disagreement, a tone of voice he doesn't like, even a facial expression he deems defiant) you'll be bound to the bed, hand and foot. Nothing to do whatsoever but stare at the ceiling. It's your own fault, if you were good maybe it wouldn't be like this, he says. When you are good, and have a nice long-time record of being extremely pleasant and sweet to him - and I mean a LONG time - he might - might - finally let you be unbound aside from a long anklet chain connecting you to the bed. Not like you have much else to do, though. Maybe he'll get you books if you ask nicely and grovel at his feet. But that's it. He doesn't like the thought of giving you too much entertainment. If being alone is mind-numbingly boring, well, you'll enjoy time with him that much more. Eventually you'll reach a point where you're begging him not to leave, he hopes, even if he would never admit to that. So what he'll do is balance it, give you just enough to keep your whining down, but keep making sure you're miserable when alone. He only allows you "activities" (read: a book) on certain days of the week, or every other day, every third day, something like that. And you can only get a new book once a month or so. And it's whatever he finds, not just what you want, so he'll start dropping you with encyclopedias and textbooks and other dull things. You can't complain, after all he IS giving you something to do. If you're gonna complain, well, how would you like to have the reading privilege revoked entirely? And that shuts you up. So, really, poor darling's days are very very bleak, dull, and empty, when alone.

He doesn't really have a "end of the day." His "job" is more or less a 24/7 thing, he goes when he's needed and when he's not needed he'll be with you. Usually it's a semi normal schedule but it can lead to odd intervals - you may have times he's gone for a full day or so, and then times where he's there for a whole day, etc. Spending time together is quiet, but he's surprisingly fond of physical affection. He spends a lot of time just... alone with his thoughts. Spacing out and thinking, looking up at the sky, except, well, now it's him, his thoughts, and you. You'll spend it with him too, iron grip locked around your waist so you can't pull away from his lap. He's also one to need to get out the... frustrations of life through physical activity at night.

Days he's there, again, it's pretty quiet, he's not much one for extensive conversation, of course. If you talk, he'll listen, but don't expect him to say much back. He likes the sound of your voice, one of the only people he doesn't prefer silence to, so long as you're not whining about wanting to leave. He doesn't really have a lot of sitting-down type of work to do, so if he's spending a whole day time with you, it means he's specifically worked it out so that he's able to do so for that purpose. He'll probably prompt you to speak, it's super awkward really. An awkward comment about this or that that he clearly wants you to start talking about, and he'll talk back just a little bit, with his own brand of harsh pessimism -- but that's just the only way he really knows how to communicate, he's not actually trying to shut you down when he responds to everything negatively. It's the most bizarre bonding time, but bonding nonetheless. He also likes to watch you do tasks -- to make food, even if it's just for yourself, to clean and walk around doing your little tasks. He may or may not eventually discover a fondness for forcing you to walk around naked, poor darling.

I've mentioned before that his drive is reactive - it gets heavier when he's with you. So really, your day will be filled with little fun intervals of very spontaneous fucking. Like, he has no sense of mood or timing. It's completely random, very forceful, will just loop his hands under your arms and scoop you up and carry you over to bed at any random moment, interrupting your speech even. Or, sometimes the bed is too far, and just bending you over is easier. And then, he'll just carry on like nothing happened.

He's not one to rant and rave about his day by default, and especially not early on. In the later stages, though, once he's comfortable with you, you might find him slipping out a frustration here or there, a passing comment about something upsetting that happened, and if you pry at it, he'll end up talking, much more than usual. He kind of doesn't even realize he's starting to ramble a bit, and if he catches himself he'll stop and mutter something about it being unimportant anyway.

Bonus little hc: He asks you how your day was. Every day that he's not with you. It's a routine - he started doing it because from his limited knowledge of human relationships, it's the "normal," so he tries to emulate what he feels like is normal in a relationship. It's kind of funny, well, not for poor darling, it feels mocking. Like, how do you think my day was, Xiao? All tied up and left only to stare at the ceiling? If you get all sarcastic with him like that, though, he might see it as grounds for punishment, so, be snarky at your own risk.

[saintobio]

ahhh I really loved this chapter and it’s time for gojo to finally suffer lol

okayy, this is gonna be long, I’m sorry but I sent this ask on your main for last chapter and i just wanna further say that I have no type of empathy towards sera because at this point she’s displaying fan behavior towards mc, you’re a grown woman acting like mc is at fault for the circumstances YOU were born into jeez

like these two lines are just so disrespectful and distasteful of her:

Sera had to pull away and roll her eyes. “Here we go again.” Truth was, she had no time for this. “I’ve heard about your mother leaving over and over. It’s getting old. Move on.”

“Seriously, if he hated his mother so much then why couldn’t he just forget about her? There were more problems to face in life. Sera already had baggage on her own and carrying Satoru’s along with hers was asking for too much. He was a grown adult. Instead of burdening her with his own problems, he should know that there were boundaries that shouldn’t be crossed.”

how are you gonna wanna be with someone but you don’t wanna be bothered by the shit that they went through in their life. it just does not make any sense, if gojo is someone she wants to marry, in a world where they’d be allowed to, marriage is about compromise and coming together as one, flaws and all, it’s not just about his money and status 🤡 like tf do you mean move on?? mayhaps she fell on her head as a baby because most people would know that’s not something you can just move on from...not only did his mom leave but he essentially became a punching bag to his father. take several seats my girl

it’s like she only wants to have the benefits of his money and that is exactly why I applaud gojo for saying this and not taking it back:

“Don’t fuck with me,” he snapped, chest rising and falling deeply. “You’re not valuable enough to ruin my life.”

the way that I squealed after reading it bc I had a feeling it was him saying it to her after you posted the sneak peaks lol

Back to sera, suddenly she’s too good to eat fried fish? like humble yourself, do you think gojo will be here forever? especially with the way his guilt is starting to catch up? watch him leave and if that happens, i’ll be happy because frankly she doesn’t even deserve to be with him. it’s always that same cycle of: “It was unfair how others had the privilege to be raised in a rich household while she was punished with jobless parents who did nothing but watch their eldest child work her ass off every single day. See, this was the difference between you and her. You didn’t experience this much hardship in life for you to complain about not winning Satoru’s heart.” and “You needed to know your place, and if passing out from crying was how you would wake up to your senses, then it was good enough that it happened. You have not even experienced half the suffering that Sera had to endure in her life.”

now imagine the guilt she’d feel if mc dies from her condition (which hopefully she doesn’t ofc) the audacity of her to do this every single time is ridiculous...sera how does it feel knowing that mc lives rent free in your mind? 🤡 just like gojo is a grown adult, so are you, like we get it, you’re poor and you want a better life but all you ever do is compare yourself to mc, stop acting like a child. and if anything, the burdens of your life maybe would’ve been better if you idk, took yourself, your siblings and mother away from the situation your father created due to his gambling addiction, idk just a thought unless that’s not possible at the moment ig

Furthermore this part:

What would only make the situation problematic was how his father would possibly strip him off of his rights to be the next CEO because of the amount of scandal that it could put the company through. Sera used to understand that Satoru had to make sacrifices to achieve his ideal life, but his indecisiveness and more so his recklessness was making her frustrated.

this is exactly why i’m starting to believe that she doesn’t even fully love him anymore and just wants the stability he creates because his lifestyle is a stark contrast to her messed up one. I wonder if she would’ve still wanted to be with him if gojo didn’t even have the option of becoming the next CEO, or would she just toss him to the side hoping to find someone else that fulfills her selfish expectations. i’m happy that gojo is making it clear that he doesn’t want to have a baby with her rn (or ever ?) and knowing that he wants one with mc instead is making her want to be pregnant out of spite so that she could possibly baby trap him. and yk, I wouldn’t put that past her at all, she’s giving me the energy of someone who will either spill out their business to the media as her last resort or fake a pregnancy just to show her dominance over gojo.

aside from speaking about that clown, yess for the reversal of roles I’m excited to see what gojo ends up doing to win her and her heart back, if she even allows that to happen, bc he has a lot of work to do... it’s time for him to feel her coldness and i’m here for!! loved the toji crumbs as well and yayy, she’s starting to go after her dreams!

I have two question that maybe you could answer as long as there are no spoilers, did mc’s family not question why she was staying at their mansion instead of at the penthouse with gojo? and since they have the same condition, was it also the circumstances of stress that ultimately led to her mom’s death?

anyways, I hope you have a good rest of your day and as usual pls get lots of rest and water! also would I be able to be the 🦢 anon?

sera’s fan behavior 😭😭😭 this whole rant abt her is lowkey what i would feel to if i was a reader (seeing as i react negatively to rashta in re, so i can now see how it feels like to see sera in ur perspective lmao) she rly thinks she’s too good to eat fried fish now 😹

as for ur questions, 1) they did question, but knowing yn she made up excuses saying that she just wanted to stay with them for a week bc she misses them and gojo’s too busy 2) no her mom was loved deeply by her dad so there was no stress, the reason for her death was simply heart failure. thanks so much for taking the time to write all of these for us to read <33

[delicioussshame]

More, they said. We need more, they said. Well, have more. I don’t think anyone wanted this exactly, but that’s what you’re getting.

Tianlang-Jun might not have been a good father to his only son until now, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t worried about him.

He likes to think he would have made for a decent paternal figure. Not a great dad, but good enough. He’s self-aware enough to know that he could never have been one of those people who, once they see their firstborn’s face, feel their whole world change. Tianlang-Jun had loved only once, and no one would ever surpass that.

Luo Binghe is the only thing of Su Xiyan that remains, and for that alone Tianlang-Jun wants to do right by him, now that he knows he exists.

Since he is their son, he will also make for a perfect heir to his empire, but that’s secondary. Heavens know Su Xiyan had wanted nothing to do with being a high-society wife, hating the idea enough to disappear in the ether with the competency Tianlang-Jun knew and loved about her, making it impossible for him to find her until many, many years had passed and the child he didn’t know existed was almost a man, desperate to make his way into the world.

It was his duty as his father to facilitate this.

He is pretty sure Luo Binghe hates him, which he really can’t blame him for. What did Tianlang-Jun ever do for him before today? But Luo Binghe still accepted his financial backing, the nice apartment he bought for him and the connections Tianlang-Jun offered him, so there exists a concrete link between them.

How can his son run like his dear Xiyan did, when everything he owns has been provided by Tianlang-Jun?

He suspects that won’t last. Luo Binghe is smart, as much as his mother was. He’s probably opening secret accounts and building his own, independent fortune.

Good for him.

But he’s still young, his son, and unused to the ruthlessness of the world they now share. Tianlang-Jun had tried to prepare him as much as he could, and frankly, he thought Luo Binghe more than up to the task, but apparently, he was wrong, since he was entrapped by a most unpleasant man, from what he has heard.

This honestly surprised him. Tianlang-Jun is a loyal man. Su Xiyan wasn’t the type to fool around either. How come Luo Binghe let a ruffian seduce him and take him to bed?

Really, as his father, Tianlang-Jun must verify by himself whether there was any truth in the concerned whispers that had reached his ears.

This would be much easier if Luo Binghe would take his calls.

Since he won’t, he will have to deal with his father’s inopportune visit.

“What are you doing here,” says his dear son, looking very annoyed, as expected.

“Can’t I come visit my only son?”

Luo Binghe very visibly stops himself from saying no and closing the door in his face, probably only because he’s still reliant on his money. “Warn me before you show up.”

Tianlang-Jun wouldn’t cut him off, but Luo Binghe doesn’t trust him not to. That’s a work in progress. “I tried, but none of my calls were answered.”

“Write.”

Children. “I want to hear your voice from time to time. Is that so much to ask for?”

“Look, now’s not a good time.”

Tianlang-Jun blinks, and looks at his feet, where a pair of shoes too small to be his son’s is resting.

A glance over Luo Binghe’s shoulders reveals two tea cups and a plate of snacks on a coffee table, and what appears to be a hastily discarded book.

Tianlang-Jun feels himself smile. If it were just a friend, Luo Binghe wouldn’t have bothered to hide him away. Since he apparently likes men, and wouldn’t drink tea and read books with that reprehensible booty call of his, he has a proper date here.

Good for him. While Tianlang-Jun would have wanted the opportunity of being a grandfather, since he’s never been a proper father, he’s not enough of a hypocrite to demand of his son that he marries well and provides an heir and a spare.

As long as he gets the happiness Tianlang-Jun never quite grasped, he will have his father’s full support. “Far from me to interrupt your date. Can I at least meet him before I go?”

“No! Go away now!”

Tianlang-Jun resists Luo Binghe’s attempts to forcefully push him out. Embarrassing his son by confronting his significant other is his right and privilege as his progenitor. He won’t let such a good opportunity pass him by. “Just a second. I really want to know what your type is, because I’ve heard the most dreadful rumors. Soothe your father’s fears, now would you.”

Luo Binghe starts to sound a bit desperate. “I don’t have to share this with you! Leave us alone!”

A voice makes itself known from behind a nearby door. “Binghe, that’s enough, isn’t it? It will be easier if your father is aware.”

“But Shizun!”

Shizun? The young man escaping the room just now is Shizun? “And you are?”

Tianlang-Jun recognises the façade of a man trying his best to look perfectly in control of himself, and not like he’s facing the father of the younger man he’s dating. “My name is Shen Yuan.”

So that’s Shen Yuan.

Tianlang-Jun is perplexed. He doesn’t look anywhere near as fearsome as rumours made him out to be. Plus, Tianlang-Jun isn’t interrupting a lust-fuelled hookup, but a wholesome tea date.

Something doesn’t add up. “So you’re Shen Yuan. You’re not what I expected. You don’t seem to be in the process of debauching my son, to begin with.”

“You! Shut up!”

Oh dear, he angered his son.

Shen Yuan, for himself, is thoroughly embarrassed. “Whatever you might have heard, pay it no mind. It’s not true, I guarantee you.”

“Of course it isn’t! Shizun is the nicest, kindest, best person I have ever met!”

Shen Yuan turns toward Binghe. “What did we say about calling me Shizun in public?”

…Maybe that’s more than Tianlang-Jun wanted to know about his son’s sex life.

“Shizun is Shizun. I don’t understand why he’s shy. He has nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“Can you please just explain to your father the situation before I die of mortification? Please?”

Tianlang-Jun watches in fascination as Luo Binghe’s anger melts like ice on a summer day under Shen Yuan’s supplications. “Whatever Shen Yuan wants.” He turns toward Tianlang-Jun with evident exasperation. Obviously, he feels like every second he’s not talking to his shizun is wasted time. “Shen Yuan has been my friend for years. We met online. We’re dating now, but for reasons we’re pretending we hate each other. Deal with it.”

Tianlang-Jun hears the facepalm in Shen Yuan’s voice. “Binghe, you can do better than this.”

Luo Binghe pouts. “I don’t want to. He knows enough, he can leave us alone now.”

Tianlang-Jun had no idea his son could pout, or be this petulant.

This visit turned out to be quite fascinating.

Too bad it’ll have to be cut short. While he would love to hear all about the current situation, he was honest in his desire for his son to be happy. Since things aren’t what they seemed, Tianlang-Jun can wait.

Or he can manufacture a better occasion. Namely, a private dinner with his son-in-law, with an invitation sent to his family house, maybe. How could he refuse then? His parents wouldn’t let him. Tianlang-Jun could then grill him in peace about his intentions toward his one and only son.

Then again, maybe not. It might get complicated, depending on their awareness of the situation.

To his private address, then. He suspects it won’t be hard to find.

Anyway. “It wasn’t my intention to intrude, so I will take my leave. Please, enjoy your date.”

Shen Yuan blushes bright red.

What a cutie.

Luo Binghe appears to think so too, if the besotted look on his face can be believed.

Ah, young love. Such a beautiful thing.

Tianlang-Jun can only wish them a more successful romance than his.

[seungmoroll]

Set Up | Tag

Word count: 1.7k

Genre: friends to lovers

Request: “Hi!! Can I ask you a scenario in which she is best friend with both Seungmin and Tag of Golden Child, but Tag actually likes her (and she secretly likes him back) but he is afraid to ruin their friendship and Seungmin helps him? Thank you! Stay safe!”

A/n: hope everyone likes this! and thanks to the anon for this request

        “Dude, I can’t take it anymore,” Seungmin says as he plops down in the seat in front of Tag. Confused, Tag gives Seungmin a look telling him to continue. “I’m talking about you and Y/n. When are you finally going to tell them you like them?”

        Eyes widening from his question, Tag looks around, making sure that you weren’t anywhere near them. Smacking Seungmin in the arm, “Dude, shut up. What if Y/n was here?”

        “What about me?” You say as you occupy the seat next to Tag.

        “N-nothing.” The two boys both say at the same time.

        “No it’s not, but for the sake of the two of you, I’ll ignore it.” Stealing some of Tag’s food, you ask the two boys, “So, what’re you guys up to today?”

        Smacking away your sneaky fingers, Tag gets up from his seat and grabs his stuff, “I am on the way to meet up with Jangjun. I gotta help him out with something, and with that being said, I am going to make my exit now. Bye guys.”

        Occupying the seat once filled by Tag, you watch Seungmin closely as you ask him, “So what were the two of you tralking about before I interrupted?”

        Tutting, he responds “I’m not telling you Y/n.”

        Kicking Seungmin’s shin in response to his answer, you give him your best puppy dog eyes, “But I’m your best friend and best friends tell each other everything.”

        “I’m also Tag’s best friend, and best friends don’t tell others their secrets, so that cancels out your best friend privileges. Enough about that though, answer this question for me, when are you going to tell Tag you like him?”

        “Are you dumb? I’m never going to tell him.”

        “But why?”

        “Oh, I don’t know, maybe because of the fact that it’ll ruin our friendship or that he’ll reject me and break my heart.” Either way, you’d rather keep your feelings to yourself than to lose Tag.

        “How are you so sure that he’ll reject you?”

        “Because he only sees me as his best friend, and nothing else. And you know what? I’m perfectly fine with that.” You were starting to get tired of Seungmin pushing you to confess to Tag. The two of you have had this conversation plenty of times, and everytime you’ve given him the same response.

        “Mmhm, sure.”

“Hey Tag? You doing anything tomorrow night?” Seungmin asks Tag as he barges into his bedroom.

        Not bothering to face him, Tag nonchalantly responds to Seungmin, “Nope, was just going to play video games with Donghyun, why?”

        “Let’s have a guys night out. Let me treat you to dinner.”

        Spinning around in his chair, Tag gives a weirded out look to Seungmin, “Are…are you asking me out on a date?” Grabbing the closest object to him, Seungmin throws a book at Tag. “No you idiot, I just want to treat my hyung with a nice dinner.”

        Taking a moment to think about his offer, Tag asks, “Are you paying?” Sighing he tells him yes. “Pick me up at 7.”

         “Why are you calling?” you ask Seungmin when you answer his call.

        “Is that any way for you to speak to your best friend?”

        “I’m sorry, let me start over. Hey bestie, what can I do for you this fine evening?”         You could sense Seungmin’s eye roll through the call, and you can’t help but chuckle.

        “What’re your plans for tomorrow night?”

        “I have a date.”

        That was the last answer Seungmin expected from you, “Wait, what?”

        “A date…with Chris Hemsworth as Thor.” That was a more expected answer.

        “Well, change of plans, I’m taking you out to dinner tomorrow.”

        “Are you asking me out on a date? Because you know about my feelings for Tag.” Seungmin rolls his eyes again at you, not surprised that you and Tag responded in the same way. “No you doofus, I just want to treat my best friend to a nice dinner.”

        “Are you-“

        “Yes, I’m paying.” Seungmin could swear that you and Tag were made for each other.

        “Great, text me the details later.”Now that Seungmin’s plan was going well, he couldn’t wait for tomorrow.

         The following night, Seungmin and Tag had arrived to the restaurant before 10 minutes before 7 pm, which was the time that Seungmin had told you to come to the restaurant; not a minute earlier or later. Five minutes before your arrival, Seungmin had told Tag that he needed to take a call outside. From there he waited outside the restaurant for you. When you finally arrived at the restaurant, Seungmin had led you inside and had told you that he needed to use the restroom first and let the hostess guide you to your table. Only for you to be surprised by the presence of Tag.

        “Um, Tag?” You call out to him, grabbing his attention, “What’re you doing here?”

        “I’m having dinner with Seungmin, what’re you doing here?”

        “I am also having dinner with Seungmin.”

        Pointing at the chair across from him, he motions for you to sit down. “Really now? Seungmin didn’t mention anything about inviting you. Speaking of which, where is he now?”

        “He said he needed to use the restroom.” Unbeknownst to the two of you, Seungmin was already seated at a different table, one that he was sure the two of you could not see him from, with Donghyun. Essentially the two of them were going to be spying on the two of you on your set up date. “Hyung, you do know that they’re going to kill you later on, right?”

        “Not if they end up confessing to one another, resulting in them dating. They can’t kill me for lending them a helping hand.”

        Back at yours and Tag’s table, the two of you have ordered your drinks as you guys wait for Seungmin’s return. After 10 minutes had passed, Tag had decided to call Seungmin, “Oh hey Tag.”

        “Dude, where are you at? You didn’t tell me that Y/n was going to be having dinner with us.”

        “Oh, about that, I actually won’t be having dinner with you tonight. No need to thank me.”

        “Wait what?”

        “You and Y/n are going to be having dinner without me, to simply put it, you guys are going to be having a dinner date. No need to thank me, and yes, dinner is still on me, so don’t be getting the most expensive entrees. Have fun!” The line cuts off as Seungmin hangs up the phone. Putting away his phone, Tag explains the situation to you,

        “So it looks like Seungmin won’t be joining us tonight, says that dinner’s still on him though.”

        “Then we have to order the most expensive thing here.” On the inside the two of you were cursing Seungmin because you guys both knew that he had set this whole thing up for the two of you. Before the awkwardness could settle in, your waiter comes up to the table, asking for your orders. Ignoring Seungmin’s request, the two of you order some expensive dishes. Once the waiter leaves, the table falls silent.

        “So…” Tag starts, “How was your day?” This question leads to you telling Tag about how you were so excited about your favorite author coming out with a new book. As you tell him about the book, you fail to notice the smile that settles onto Tag’s face. He loved seeing you like this, happy about such a simple thing. For him, seeing you this happy made him happy, and it just made him yearn for the two of you to be together.

        Once your food comes out, the two of you fall into a comfortable conversation about miscellaneous things. This why was you liked Tag, everything about him was comforting to you. You never had to try hard for him; you knew that you could always be yourself around him. Being with him made you happy. ‘Maybe Seungmin has a point,’ you thought to youself, ‘Maybe I should tell Tag about my feelings.’

        When the two of you finish your entrees, your table falls into a comfortable silence. “Y/n, there’s something I have to say to you.” You look into Tag’s eyes, waiting for him to continue, “I like you. I’ve liked you for a long time now. I’ve been so scared to tell you because I didn’t want to ruin our friendship or make it awkward and Seungmin knew this, yet he made this scheme to set us up on a date. You can totally ignore everything that I’ve said so far if you date reciprocate my feelings. I mean, I totally understand if you don’t. I won’t hate you or anything. I just- Ow, did you just kick me?” Tag asks rubs at his shin.

        Giving him an innocent smile, you say to him, “Yes I did, you were rambling and quite frankly I wanted you to shut up so I could talk,” taking a deep breath, you continue speaking to Tag, “I like you too Tag. I guess we were both too scared to do anything about it because we didn’t want to ruin our friendship.” Tag lets out a sign of relief as he hears that you like him back. “So…what now?”

        “Now we order dessert, and then we can talk about what we’re going to do on our second date,” you say, smiling at Tag.

        “Sounds like a plan.”

        From their table in the back, Seungmin and Donghyun don’t miss the way Tag’s hand reaches across the table to hold yours.

        “I freaking hate this,” Seungmin whines as he falls back into his chair.

        You and Tag choose to ignore Seungmin’s whines as the two of you cuddle with each other.

        “Awe, does someone need attention?” Donghyun asks him as he enters the living room.

        “Yes!”

        Turning your attention towards Seungmin, leaving Tag to pout at you, you say to Seungmin, “Well, you’re not going to get any here, so might as well go somewhere else. Also, you need to stop complaining, you’re the one who set us up, it’s not our fault that you made yourself our official third wheel.”

        Grumbling to himself, Seungmin says, “Should’ve just let the two of you pine after one another.” Seungmin isn’t able to dodge the pillows the two of you throw his way.

masterlist

[shadowmaat]

Getting real tired of the US political rhetoric around here.

"Ugh, why don't the Dems DO something? They're useless! Why bother voting?" Is a terrible, bullshit mindset to have. Voting ABSOLUTELY matters. Imagine how much worse things would be if Orange had been reelected.

"Maybe you idiots should learn how the government WORKS instead of whining all the time!" Is also a terrible, bullshit mindset to have. If people don't understand something then explain it to them. Without the condescension and moral superiority.

Personally, I think the "why aren't Dems doing something" is still a valid question. Biden can't pass laws willy-nilly and the Senate being stacked against them is a big issue, but are you honestly telling me that with a hostile takeover like we're witnessing there is NOTHING that can be done to stop it? Really? We're supposed to sit back with our thumbs up our asses until we get a chance to vote and then hope that A) we're still allowed to vote and B) enough of us are able to get past the gerrymandering, voter suppression, and rule-changes to actually get the right people into office and then hope it's enough to get a majority?

Protests are a great way to make voices heard, but they aren't going to change the minds of the totalitarian fascists currently taking charge of the government. And so far the Dems seem unwilling to take any steps that might make them look bad.

"Oh, but the Dems ARE doing something! Stop being so defeatist!" OK, so what are they doing? What concrete steps are being taken to walk back the stripping of various freedoms? What's being done to remove these bastards from power so they can't hurt anyone else? Adding more justices doesn't count. It's only being "discussed" right now, not implemented, and frankly adding more judges just sets up similar issues down the road.

The stress, despair, and frustration over the collapse of this country is overwhelming. Yes, I will vote when the time comes and I'm aware of how incredibly privileged I am that I'm allowed to vote and able to get to a voting place without any issues. I'll vote like my life depends on it, but more importantly I'll vote like other lives depend on it. Because there are a lot of people out there who can't vote (mostly due to Reps making sure they can't) and their lives are just as important as mine if not more so.

My love and support goes out to all those who are suffering directly from these dehumanizing attacks and to all those who have died or are going to die as a result of these policy changes. Changes which, apparently, can't be nullified, mitigated, or otherwise scrapped unless/until there's a Dem majority.

How many more rights will be stripped before then? How many lives lost? How much suffering must we endure?

[easily-infatuated23]

The Parent and the Professor

a/n: i love the idea of reader being a professor! let me know if you want a part two :) letters are in italics

pairing: Draco Malfoy x Professor!Reader

word count: 4k

warning: mentions of war and not feeling worthy

summary: Will a broken friendship be rekindled when Scorpius’s favorite teacher writes a letter to his father?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I have always had a passion for teaching and inspiring young minds. So, it wasn’t surprising that I was ecstatic to start my fourth year teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts at my alma mater, Hogwarts. When I first started working there, I was haunted by the memories of the war. Everywhere I looked I could remember a different face of a friend or teacher laying dead. Seeing the students happy faces made the memories easier to bear. Just the knowledge that they could safely live out their childhoods in such a magical and special place softened the lingering pain.

One of my favorite parts of teaching at Hogwarts was teaching the children of the people I had grown up with. For some, I knew so much about their parents from those early silly childhood days that simply seeing their faces made me laugh and reminisce. Of all the children of friends I had taught thus far, the most gifted was Scorpius Malfoy. It wasn’t such a shock that he was so clever, his father had been a very gifted student when he applied himself. I had been apprehensive when I first read Scoripus’s name on the attendance sheet. His father Draco and I had actually been very close friends for the first 6 years of schooling. We were both in Slytherin and he was one of the few people who didn’t tease or berate me for not being a typical Slytherin. Yes he would get annoyed when I stood up for Hermione when he called her a ‘mudblood’ or when I would challenge his pure-blood views but he always was kind to me.

That all changed in the beginning of our sixth year. He started pushing everyone away and yelling at me almost any time he saw me. I tried to continue to be kind to him but my attempts were swatted away like flies. Once the war began, I understood why he had become distant. He was given an impossible task with no choice as to whether or not to complete it. The worst moment came when he walked to the side of the Death Eaters and The Dark Lord. I was one of the few people that knew he did this for the sake of his parents and not for the Dark Lord. He redeemed this action when Harry Potter was revealed to be alive. He threw him his wand and ran back to the side of good. We locked eyes for a moment before he ran through the castle to safety. I haven’t seen or spoken to him since. He did make a sort of “apology and amends” tour going to almost every individual in the Wizarding World and showing he was a changed man and that he no longer held his past ideals. The one person he left out on that tour was me.

I never understood why. I figured he either thought our friendship was beyond fixing or maybe because he knew I would forgive him and understand. More likely, I guessed he couldn’t stand to face me. But none of that mattered now. It was all just a slight pain in my heart whenever I saw Scorpius. As the school year began, Scorpius Malfoy excelled in my class. He was always the first to raise his hand to ask or answer a question, always the most engaged and eager to learn. One day after class I noticed he was lingering by the door. “Can I help you Mr. Malfoy?” I asked. He nodded and approached my desk. “I was wondering if you could assign me as Athena’s tutor. I know she asked you for one and I want to volunteer”. He looked down at his shoes, trying to hide a blush I figured stemmed from a small crush on the student called Athena. “I was going to assign it to you any way but because you asked I will also add ten points to Slytherin for taking the initiative”. He looked up and smiled. “Thank you Professor!”. He ran out of the room so giddy, calling to his best friend Albus to tell him the news. “What a sweet kid” I thought. Later that night I took a break from grading tests and thought about my old friend Draco Malfoy. Perhaps I should write him. But just to tell him what a gifted student his son was. His wife had passed away four years ago and I figured it must be lonely being all alone in the large estate he occupied known as Malfoy Manor. Maybe this would re-open a line of communication between the two of us. It had been a long time since I had seen him and frankly, I missed him. He probably didn’t think of me though. Sighing, I picked up my quill and penned a formal letter to my former friend.

Dear Mr. Malfoy,

-I couldn’t bring myself to write Draco-

I hope this letter finds you in good health. I wanted to inform you that your son has done exceedingly well in my Defense Against the Dark Arts class and has quickly become my prized pupil. He has even volunteered to take on extra tutoring responsibilities. He is a sweet young man and it is a privilege to have him in my class.

Sincerely, Professor Y/L/N

I examined the letter for a long time, constantly frowning at it and wondering if I should just ball it up and forget about it. At last I found the nerve to seal the letter and before I could stop myself Harvey, my owl, was flying away from my cottage. “Too late now” I murmured. My letter went unanswered for nearly two weeks. I spent the entire first week feeling anxious and most of the second week resigned to the idea that Draco had truly decided I was unworthy of a response. After all, it had been many years. On the Friday of the second week, I stayed up late grading some last minute essay submissions when I heard a tapping at my window. I turned to find an unfamiliar owl outside. I opened the window and took the letter. After a sufficient amount of pats and snacks were given to the owl, I settled in to see if the letter was what I had been waiting for. It was the first thing I saw, the green snake seal on the back confirmed it. Draco had responded to my letter. I flipped it over to see my name scrawled on the front in handwriting I used to be more familiar with. I stared at the letter for a long time before finally opening it. I gently removed the seal and unfolded the letter, my heart pounding so hard I thought it would leave my chest.

Dear Professor Y/L/N,

I appreciate your kind words about my son. He has spoken fondly of you and of your class, he says it is his favorite. Congratulations on being the longest serving Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher in twenty years. It is quite a feat. I hope you are well.

Sincerely, Draco Malfoy

My heart skipped a beat. He matched my formality but he still slipped in something to make me blush. I sighed. I hadn’t been expecting some long rambling dramatic letter explaining why he never came back to me, despite my efforts, but a small clue or hint would have been something. I thought writing the letter might give me more closure but I was horribly mistaken. Now, all I wanted to do was write him back and find some way to see him. I had done my best after the war but he pushed me away more. That night was a sleepless night for me. I felt like a sixteen year old again, debating if I should write him back or not. If I did decide to write him back, how long should I wait? Ultimately, I decided it was best to leave it there.

Two months later, Quidditch season was in full swing as Slytherin was playing Hufflepuff in a match leading up to the finals. I was never one thrilled by the idea of Quidditch, but Scorpius had begged me to come so I attended. He had followed in his father’s foot steps and was the Seeker for the Slytherin team. When I got to the parent and faculty section I was stunned to see none other than Draco Malfoy. I quickly looked away and tried to pretend I hadn’t seen him. I jogged up the bleacher stairs and sat next to the Divinations teacher. For most of the game I pretended to be watching the match but in reality, I kept glancing at Draco’s platinum blonde hair, half hoping he would turn and see me and half hoping he would leave without knowing I was there. Eventually, I was able to relax and enjoy the game. Scorpius lead the team to a win and the Slytherin student section went wild. I could have sworn I saw Athena blow him a kiss. I guess those tutoring sessions had helped him as much as they had helped her grades! I couldn’t help but look down and chuckle to myself, this little bit of childhood romance warmed my heart. When I looked back up my gaze was meant by the piercing blue eyes of Draco Malfoy. I couldn’t tell if the look on his face was that of shock or fear but before I could give a slight smile he looked away. Now this truly felt like we were sixteen again.

Everyone started to rise and leave the section talking and making merry. I rose from my seat and before I could begin to descend, Draco rose suddenly and turned to me, walking in my direction. I froze. “Hello Professor Y/L/N” he said, not meeting my gaze for long. “Mr. Malfoy” was all I could manage to croak. “I was so pleased to receive your letter about Scorpius, he doesn’t always tell me what’s going on when he’s here”. “Yes,” I smiled “he is a wonderful student. You must be very proud of him”. Draco gave a small but sincere smile. “I must admit, I didn’t expect to see you here” I said. “I was able to get a few weeks off from work so I decided to come down and watch the match. It has been nice to see the place so..” he paused. “Free” I finished for him. He smiled and met my gaze again. “Yes thats exactly what I was thinking.” There was a few moments of silence. It wasn’t as awkward or terrifying as I had anticipated. “I should go find my son” he said finally. “Yes of course it was good to see you again”. I meant this whole heartedly. “Perhaps I can see you again soon and we can talk while there is less noise” he said. A little surprised but happy I replied yes. Before turning to leave he squeezed my hand and gave me his signature smirk before turning and descending down the bleachers. Was my friendship with Draco Malfoy finally going to be rekindled? I hoped so. Before turning and walking out of sight he called back to me, “I’ll write you”. I nodded. I would never have expected this to happen and I had no idea what to expect next.

Another week went by before I heard from him. His owl found me in the middle of a lesson, I opened the window and thanked the owl. I tucked the letter into my robe pocket. As I shifted my attention back to the class I saw Scorpius’s face twist with confusion then look at Albus Potter. Shit. He clearly recognized the owl. I decided I would talk to him after class. Once the lesson was over I called Scorpius to my desk. “I saw you looked confused when your father’s owl delivered me a letter so I thought I owed you an explanation”. He said nothing but simply looked at the floor and shifted uncomfortably. “Your father and I actually used to be very close friends in the early years at Hogwarts,” I began. He looked up at me puzzled. It was clear his father had never mentioned that detail to him. “I wrote to your father telling him what an exceptional student you were and then we ran into each other at the last Quidditch match, congratulations by the way, and we discussed possibly meeting to catch up. I didn’t want you to simply see the owl and then have your brain spin in circles thinking of possible reasons for the letter”. He nodded and finally spoke. “Yeah I was really confused at first. I must admit I am a bit more confused now though. He has never spoken about you before. When I told him you were my favorite professor he seemed to not know who you were”. Ouch. “Well we were going through a hard time back then, I don’t blame him for forgetting” I managed, trying to keep my composure. “You may go” I finished. He jogged out of the room glancing back one more time before finally leaving. Maybe he thought I died. Rationalizing wasn’t helping. I climbed the small staircase in my classroom and entered my office, locking the door behind me. I opened the letter and read its contents.

Dear Professor Y/L/N,

It was pleasant running into you at the Quidditch match last week. If you are able, perhaps you would be kind enough to meet at Malfoy Manor for lunch on Saturday at 11:30. I fear we have much to discuss and would prefer to do so in private.

Sincerely, Draco Malfoy

Saturday, at the Manor. It would be a difficult place to be. Although I was a Slytherin, I had befriended Harry Potter and the rest of his trouble-making trio. I enjoyed their company. It provided a break from the constant berating from the rest of my house. However, due to this friendship I had been taken and held hostage along with Luna Lovegood in Malfoy Manor for a few weeks before the final battle. I had been hit with every curse short of killing me. Draco had been forced to witness but did nothing to help me. I understood why he couldn’t but just once it would have been nice to see him stand up for me. But, alas, I figured I wasn’t worthy of any help. Returning to the Manor was something I never thought I would do but his letter let on to a promise of answers to questions I had been harboring for so long now.

Dear Mr. Malfoy,

I accept.

Sincerely, Professor Y/L/N

Short and sweet. Now came the long wait for Saturday. Once the day arrived I was more nervous than I had previously anticipated. I pulled on a pair of black slacks and a fitted white long sleeve shirt. Over the top I chose to wear my brown striped blazer. I put on my favorite silver earrings and necklace with an ’S’ charm. When we had been young, Draco gave me a silver ring for my birthday that was shaped like a snake. I had worn it everyday since then without thought. When I went to reach for it today, I paused. Wearing it had become part of my daily routine but he didn’t know that. Would he think I wore it just for him? I shook the thought out of my head and wore it anyway. If I didn’t wear it I was worried I wouldn’t feel complete which would make me more nervous than I already was. I pulled my light brown hair into a half-up-half-down look and applied some light mascara. I was never one to wear makeup but I hadn’t slept much on Friday night so adding some definition to my face and leading the attention to my green eyes became a necessity to attract attention away from my dark circles.

At 11:29 I gathered all the courage I could and apparated to Malfoy Manor. I knocked timidly on the front door. Even the frigid fall wind couldn’t cool my skin as I blushed in anticipation of the meeting. When he opened the door I was overwhelmed by the scent of apples and cologne that had once held a permanent residence in my nose. “Professor, please come in” he said cordially. I nodded and entered into the place that had housed my nightmares for so long. But somehow it was different. The decor wasn’t as sterile as it once was. It actually looked more lived in and closer to a home than a prison. He noticed my slight surprise. “We’ve redone the place a bit so it probably looks much different compared to……last time” he mumbled. I put on my bravest smile and turned to him. “Yes it is quite lovely Mr. Malfoy”. “Please, you can call me Draco. ‘Mr. Malfoy’ is awfully formal don’t you think?”. I looked at him, a slight smirk waved across his face. “Alright, as long as you call me Y/N” I replied. He led me to the kitchen where a small round table was set and had sandwiches on the plates. “I figured since it was just the two of us there was no need to use the dinning room. Can I take your jacket?” he asked. I nodded and unbuttoned my blazer, handing it to him. As he took it from me, I saw him glance at my right hand and saw the serpent ring coiled around my middle finger. He quickly took the blazer from me and said nothing.

As we sat down to eat there was a few minutes of uncomfortable silence before I finally broke and turned to him. “I am sorry but I have a lot of questions and I won’t leave without answers”. He sighed. Nodding, he turned toward me and I began. “Why didn’t you find me after the war? I wrote to you and tried to reach out but you ignored me. When I told Scorpius we had been old friends he looked at me as if I was lying. Why? Did you completely erase me from your life? If thats the case its your decision but I would like to know why.” I paused, waiting for him to speak. “After the war, I was so ashamed that I never stood up for you and how badly I had hurt you when I shut you out, I didn’t feel worthy of your forgiveness. I ignored your letters because I thought you would be better off not ever having to be reminded of the pain that I caused you.” He couldn’t meet my eyes. I exhaled sharply and buried my face in my hands before I finally replied. “Then I guess you never knew me at all”. He looked up, a stunned expression on his face. “Of all the people in the world you should’ve known that I would be the one to forgive you the most. I understood why you did what you did and why you couldn’t help me. You as much as the rest of us were fighting for the lives of us and our families. Had it really been your choice, I don’t think you would have complied.” He stood up and walked away from the table. “I know” he finally said. “I realized all of that a few years ago but at that point I thought it was too late.” He leaned on the kitchen counter with his back to me. His head was dropped and his shoulders were shaking softly. “Its one of my biggest regrets.” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

“Well, we’re here now. If you have anything else you want to say, nows the time.” He turned back to me. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I never helped you, I’m sorry I didn’t find you after the fighting was over, I’m sorry I didn’t defend you better at school, I’m sorry for all of it.” His words sounded desperate but genuine. It was like he couldn’t find the breath to properly support his list of apologies. “Stop” I said suddenly. I walked in front of him and grabbed his shoulders, lowering my head until he was forced to meet my gaze. “I forgive you. Completely and totally. I just want my friend back.” He chuckled through a cry before pulling me into a tight hug. His hands were around my waist and mine around his neck. I moved my right hand to the back of his neck and stroked his hair, like I had when we were kids whenever he was upset. He chuckled again softly and held me tighter. “Ok as nice as this is I think you are gonna squeeze all the life out of me!” I joked. “Oh I’m sorry” he breathed as he let me go and pushed me away slightly.

After this first meeting, I saw him almost every weekend. We would meet and reminisce and catch up on our lives. At our third meeting he asked me about the ring. “I see you still wear the ring I gave you. I thought you would have gotten rid of it”. He held my right hand and looked at the ring. “Draco, truthfully, I was worn this ring every single day of my life since you gave it to me. It’s a part of me”. This seemed to please him as his cheeks flushed a light pink. By our sixth meeting me we were sharing a bottle of wine after dinner when he decided to play an old record of songs played at the Yule Ball. “Oh my goodness I can’t believe you actually have this!” I laughed as he purposefully did his worst dance moves. “This was one of my favorite nights at school, how could I not!” Before I knew it, he scooped me up and we were dancing the awful and silly choreographed dance we all had to learn. He spun me around in his living room as the music played. Our shadows were dancing on the walls from the light of the fire. “I don’t think I have laughed this hard in years!” I remarked. “Me too” he replied with a chuckle. Just then all of the sudden the laughter stopped and I realized this was the closest I had been to him since we were in school. This only lasted a few moments before Scorpius appeared at the door. We quickly broke apart and Draco took a step froward. “Yes son?”. “Uh, I just wanted to let you know I was going to Albus’s house to spend the night..” he stared at me with a look of confusion on his face. “Oh yes thats fine, have fun and be safe”. He quickly left the room and hurried out the front door before either of us could offer an explanation. “Oh gosh that was so embarrassing” I said, sitting on the couch and hiding my face in my hands. “He probably thinks that we kissed or were about to” I said, the sound muffled through my hands. Draco sat down next to me. “Weren’t we?” he asked timidly. I sat up and looked at him. “I don’t know, my mind kinda went blank” I chuckled. “Mine too” he smiled. “Can I kiss you?” he asked finally. I smiled and nodded. He smiled back and reached his hand out until he touched my face. He brushed his thumb over my cheek as it made its way to brush over my lips. With his other fingers positioned under my chin, he gently pulled my face closer to his, tilting it slightly upwards and to the right. He kissed me gently moving his hand back to my cheek. I hadn’t expected him to be so gentle but I was so happy I sunk into it easily. Scorpius would get an explanation later, right now, I just wanted to live in the moment I never realized I wanted.

[pla-teau]

THE FALCON AND THE WINTER SOLDIER: THE STAR-SPANGLED MAN

i’m late to this but watching episode two of the falcon and winter soldier was a ride. a necessary one in my view for the sake of understanding where sam and bucky are in this world.

from episode one to this episode, race is a lingering blanket throughout our time seeing the pair on screen (minus the action sequences and their banter). bucky constantly telling sam that he should’ve kept the shield annoyed me because i wanted sam to explode. i wanted him to unload and explicitly tell him his reasons for not keeping the shield. we saw in endgame that sam was uncomfortable holding the shield when steve passed it on to him. not that he felt unworthy but he knows the implications of the shield, the legacy it holds and the magnitude of that symbol in the usa. he knows that the history is associated with a white man for decades. at the beginning, steve is used as propaganda by the government for the war before he really grows into his own and even goes against the same government that propped him up to be this heroic symbol. sam, as an african american man, knows struggles that steve never had to face all due to the color of his skin. we don’t know specifics about his time in the military besides what we learned in winter soldier but i don’t doubt that sam had obstacles thrown at him in that environment. now, mixing in his struggles and knowing the implications of him carrying that shield, it’s understandable why sam gave back the shield. this isn’t wakanda, this is america and america doesn’t have a good track record with it’s non-white citizens - especially the african american community.

we learn in episode two that there’s a much darker history associated with captain america when we meet isaiah bradley. to me, the erased history and mistreatment of isaiah speaks to the fact that the government always wanted to keep captain america as a white man. captain america is supposed to be the all-american man who loves his country. as a hispanic woman, when i hear all-american man, my mind pictures a white man first because that’s what i’ve been conditioned to think through imagery and from simply growing up in this country. since the mcu mirrors our world, this is definitely the case when it comes to captain america because that’s the only iteration anyone’s seen or heard of. we learn that isaiah fought bucky and won that fight. to date, i don’t think anyone’s come close to defeating bucky when he was the winter soldier. the fact that isaiah did that and was jailed for 30 years in return for serving his government is explicit enough for us to know that the government doesn’t want a black captain america. and the fact that bucky never told steve about isaiah speaks volumes. if bucky told steve, i don’t doubt steve would’ve tried to do right by him. what that would’ve been, we’ll never know. bucky had this information and while his reasoning was that he was sparing isaiah, quite frankly - it’s not a good enough reason. he hurt both sam and isaiah when they visited his house. he used isaiah to physically show sam that he’s not the first black man the government has set up to fail. what angered me about that scene was that isaiah could’ve been spared by bucky just telling sam about him instead of taking him to his house. if he knows that isaiah doesn’t want that trudged up again, why do it to prove a point? i don’t doubt that had bucky just told sam about isaiah, he would’ve believed him. i think sam and isaiah’s first meeting would’ve been different and on sam’s terms, not bucky’s.

bucky, of course, doesn’t understand sam’s reasons for giving back the shield and that’s the fucking point. how could bucky understand as a white man? sam not explaining himself and keeping his composure whenever bucky lectures him on why he shouldn’t have given back the shield speaks volumes. sam’s reasons are his own and frankly, doesn’t owe anyone an explanation. because explaining it to bucky would be pointless. bucky doesn’t understand what sam’s gone through in life and yeah maybe he sees sam as the next captain america because steve said so along with the fact that he’s a good man which brings me to my next point.

a good man. that’s what made the serum work on steve. steve was a good man at the end of the day. we the audience, the avengers and steve’s friends/comrades know that captain america is not just a star spangled man fighting for the good ol’ us of a, it’s a good man that fights for what’s right. that’s why steve gave the shield to sam because he knows sam is a good man that’ll continue the legacy of fighting the good fight and not necessarily for the government or for those in charge. so sam’s comment in the therapy scene about steve and bucky never understanding is not wrong because while they see the legacy being carried by sam as the right choice, it’s wishful thinking that everything would be fine and that the whole world would be okay with it. i say wishful thinking because it’s easy to think that things wouldn’t change and everyone will accept sam as the new captain america when you don’t think about the struggles sam has faced in his life. when you’re in a place of privilege, you can afford to be a little idealistic because you don’t face or rarely see the injustices to poc/ minorities so you can afford to believe the world will be accepting of what you see as common sense or that the world will treat poc with basic human decency.

when bucky shares his fears of steve being wrong about him if he was wrong about sam and sam asks him if he’s finished also says a lot. that interaction just proves what i said earlier, bucky (and steve) is being idealistic in thinking there would be no questions asked and the world would be fine with sam carrying the shield. when sam says “are you finished?” it’s relatable because it’s representative of poc listening to white people throw a fit about something they’ve never experienced and can’t fully understand.

the scene with them and the cops also shows that bucky has a lot to learn about where sam is coming from and why he returned that shield. out of costume, apparently no one knows sam is the falcon. when i say no one, i mean those with authority (bank and cops so far) because what they see first is a black man and a superhero second. while for steve it seems that everyone saw him as captain america first and steve rogers second. seeing how before they apologize to sam for not recognizing him the officer had his hand on his gun vs. how they tell bucky that he’s under arrest gently and calmly should be a wake up call for buck. he’s one of the world’s most dangerous assassins and they’re just like “oh hey...there’s an arrest out for you because you missed therapy sorry.” is aggravating but the worst part is bucky telling sam to show him his ID, being idealistic in thinking that the situation would be resolved once sam formally identifies himself. that shows buck still has a long way to go because not realizing and thinking that being cooperative and doing what authorities say will resolve the situation is in fact hurtful to sam since he doesn’t know that even cooperating and doing as told will do nothing if that authority figure already has a bias going into that situation.

all in all, the main point for my essay-like post is that while bucky and steve see sam as their equal and the best choice to carry on the legacy, the rest of the world may not necessarily agree and they miss that due to their vastly different experiences in life than sam. i truly despised the way endgame did steve with his arc because it would’ve been great seeing him retired and adjusting to current life but also learning about the darker history and implications of the shield since now the show confirms steve knew nothing. i would imagine steve trying to do right with not only isaiah but sam as well by simply being an advocate and trying to understand how life is different for sam. i hope in future episodes we see bucky try to understand this and even fix his own biases and actions that are harmful rather than helpful to sam. i also just can’t wait to see more of sam’s story being fleshed out and seeing him take on the mantle.

[qvid-pro-qvo]

a southern education

rafael barba x female!reader. a series of moments during cases leads barba to learn a common turn of phrase from you, a detective on the squad.

word count: 4559

rating: teen, for endless teasing and the kind of contempt only the south can offer (canon-typical mentions of rape and violence, but frankly a whole lot of fluff, too, as well as an additional warning for the author knowing nothing about how law work besides what law and order tells me). 

-

It was like a different world, when you and Rollins got to chatting.

It was the way your accents got thicker, the way your laughter seemed to echo. There was always an inside joke, always a tease before you got paired off with Fin and Rollins inevitably found Sonny once again, words dripping with something sugary sweet as the two of you parted ways. The others didn’t get it, what you two would get so riled up about, but with you and her, it was like two peas in a pod.

It was just the South in the two of you. And yes, the capital ‘S’ was justified.

The South. Muggy nights and wretched summers and air thick with humidity and the mosquitoes that didn’t even give you a chance. Cicadas yelling as soon as the sun set and sitting out on porches drinking your beer or tooth-achingly sweet tea. Tipping hats and holding doors open and taking your sweet time. It made New York feel that much smaller, just two Southern girls trying to make it.

There were the shitty parts, too. There were the parts that make you and Rollins come to New York in the first place – the realization that women would never make it like men do, the suffocation of trying to fit into a box not made for you. So New York was far from home, but for good reason, and sometimes all of the South you need was hearing Rollins say y’all just as much as you.

Like now, for instance.

The newest case was a weird one, for sure, but at the center of it all was a young boy in the crossfire. Caught between his adoptive parents and the criminal enterprises his biological father was involved with. The squad was waiting for some food, and you, Barba, Carisi, and Amanda were all sitting around the wooden table, using the chairs to move from section of evidence to section of evidence.

“Poor guy just wanted a good home,” you said, looking at one of the pictures of him. It was a sweet photo, and you sighed before pushing the folder away from you. You moved to stand from the table. “Bless his heart.”

It came out of you without thinking, your voice somber, solemn. Rollins just nodded, because she got the gist, but Carisi just turned to look at you like you just grew devil’s horns.

“What does that mean?”

You looked up from the picture and met Carisi’s eyes. His brows were furrowed, and there seemed to be something tense in his shoulders.

“What do you mean?” you asked, looking amongst them. Barba was raising his brow, but his gaze was fixated on his notepad, his pen in his fingers as he scribbled something. “It’s just a saying.”

“Well, because Amanda says it to me sometimes,” Carisi said, and there was a twist to his lips, one you wanted to chuckle at. He looked so… solemn. “And usually she’s being sarcastic. I just don’t think what they did to this little boy is funny, that’s all.”

You glanced back at Amanda, and the two of you shared a look, smiling in that way you shared. She was hiding it behind her hand, and you turned back to the two men, ready to placate.

“Neither do I.” When I was saying that, I meant… that’s really sad, for him, and… y’know. Poor thing. Poor guy.” You lifted your hands, pointing to the picture. “I wasn’t being sarcastic, this kid is… he’s in a shitty situation. It’s kind of a catch-all. It’s about the intention behind it.”

“It’s a Southern thing,” Amanda finished, shrugging a bit. “It just means what you want it to mean.”

That seemed to soothe Carisi’s troubled soul enough, and you smiled at him before lifting completely from your chair, moving to get some more coffee. You asked the table if they wanted anything, and the only response was Barba lifting with you, and the two of you walked towards the coffee maker.

You didn’t mind the lawyer. Sure, the ADA wasn’t always your thing – after all, working with him could feel like you just ran a marathon – but Barba was good at his job and treated you all well.

Plus, if you happened to know your favorite combination of suit, tie, and pocket square that he wore, that was between you and God.

“I could’ve just gotten you something if you wanted, Barba,” you told him. “I know you like your coffee, even the bad stuff here.”

His smile was small, but it felt real enough, and you gave him a returning one, trying to ignore the thrill you got from the way he looked at you.

“You always add too much sugar,” he admitted, and you just rolled your eyes, smirking.

“And you always add too little, so. Maybe one day we’ll meet in the middle.” His little chuckle was cute, and you leaned against the little bar, glancing out the breakroom to where Carisi and Rollins were. “Today I won’t touch it, how ‘bout that?”

“I appreciate it.” He too glanced over to the other room, and you watched as Amanda seemed to explain something to Sonny, her hands circling a little as Sonny just shook his head at her. “So, blessing your heart? A common thing?”

“Oh, you have no idea,” you laughed, pouring a couple of cups and sliding one over to him to do as he wished. He just picked it up and sipped at it, the monster, but you added three sugars and stirred it plenty. “Trust me, sympathy isn’t always its message, but like I said. It can mean a little bit of everything.”

Barba just laughed again, shaking his head. “It seems innocuous enough. You’re telling me old women can weaponize blessing someone?”

That made your mouth twitch up, and you finished stirring your coffee with a flick of the plastic straw. With a little smile at him, you reached forward, turning him, getting close. You narrowed your eyes, pursing your lips a little. A once-over, eyes calculating, and he just stared, wide-eyed and brows creeping towards his hairline as you let out a little sound, putting all the condescension into it. And if your accent was a bit strong, well. You let it play.

“Oh, bless your heart. You just don’t understand. The South doesn’t pull punches.”

Your eyes didn’t break from his for a moment, and then you let out a little snort, shaking your head, moving past him. He seemed more than a little confused, and when you looked back he was just watching you, watching the way you walked toward the roundtable once more. You chuckled a little again, gesturing with your head towards Amanda and Carisi. 

“Oh, Northerners. Come on, Mr. Barba. No more blessing hearts today. I have a feeling this’ll be continuing education.”

-

You stood in Liv’s office a few weeks later, the two interrogation rooms on either side of you. In one, the victim, the other, the perp. A classic he-said, she-said, and you found yourself lingering on the perp’s side, watching as Carisi and Fin interrogated him. Their voices came through a little staticky, but you caught every word, your mouth twisting into disgust as you watched him spin a tale of woe.

“I did not do it,” he cried out, and his entire being reeked privilege. It was so easy to watch him pull every card out of the book, and watch the two detectives stand by, unimpressed. If he thought his charm and his smile would woo them, he was sorely mistaken.

“Look, you wanna know the truth, kid?” Carisi said, leaning back in his seat as Fin leaned against the window. Almost as if he knew you were standing by, watching. “We don’t give a rat’s ass who your father is, we don’t give a damn about your GPA. All we care about is what happened that night. So tell us what really happened now, and we won’t have to drag you out of your classes with our lights going.”

You huffed out a laugh at Carisi’s statement, which earned you a fellow lurker. Barba, there next to you. He normally didn’t get the cases this early, but with something like this he liked to hear everything from the beginning.

“Anything of value from him?” he asked, and you shook your head, turning to face him, one eye still on the interrogation.

“Nah, he’s just spinning his wheels. He thinks Daddy’s money can get him out of this bind, like every other one. Hasn’t caught the memo that we’re not that easy.”

Barba smirked, shaking his head. He turned to you, and his gaze lingered on your face, making you straighten a bit as he glanced back to the glass. “We certainly aren’t, detective. You’ll let me know the details later?”

Your brow raised. “Yeah, I can come by, if this isn’t something you’re gonna pass off to Callier. Course, I can fill her in, too.” It’d become an unofficial part of your job description, relaying the updates of the investigations to the D.A.s office when needed, trading off with Carisi. Mainly because the two of you liked going to see the counselor the most, for… different reasons.

Barba’s nod was short, and then he started migrating to the other side, where Liv and Rollins were in talking with the girl.

Suddenly, the whiny voice of the perp caught your attention.

“You can’t do this! My father won’t stand for it, do you hear me?”

Your nose wrinkled, and your little scoff was sharp enough to make Barba turn back, stop in his tracks. “Oh, bless his heart. He just doesn’t get it, does he?”

There was a warm chuckle from the other side of the room that made it your turn to look over, and you watched as Rafael Barba ducked his head, a hand lifting to cover his mouth as he did his best to look innocent.

“What’s so funny, Barba?”

When he glanced your way, the hand on his mouth lifted in surrender, the other sliding into his pocket. “Nothing. I just… think this is part of that continuing education you were talking about, detective.”

Your previous conversation came back to you, all of a sudden, and you watched as he chuckled again and pushed towards the interview room to watch Amanda and Liv.

“Trust me, you haven’t heard the last of it, yet,” you told him, and when he glanced over his shoulder he was smirking.

“I hope not.”

It was your eyes on him now, and you found yourself grinning and ducking your head before it became full-on staring, a warm feeling on your cheeks as Carisi and Fin came back into Liv’s office. You found yourself chuckling to yourself for the rest of the day, thinking about the way he looked while he smiled, at the way he laughed.

You wouldn’t mind seeing that smile more often, you decided.

Wouldn’t mind one bit.

-

The SVU squad room didn’t always leave you with smiles, of course. It was a lot of heartbreak, a lot of pain that circulated through interrogation rooms and interview sessions. A lot of sorrow, sitting in courtrooms and watching strong, powerful victims testify against their assailants.

A lot of pain. But… friends were a bright spot.

And slowly, Barba was becoming that, too.

Your role as the inbetweener was essentially official. More often than not you were accompanying Liv to One Hogan Place, the two of you in his office and trying to talk him into something (and him usually trying to talk the two of you out). A lot of times, you went on your own, making it just you and him standing on either side of his desk, discussing what could and could not be done in the eyes of the law.

It was still work, at that point, too. Because you could give him the details without skipping the important facts, could give it to him straight without hemming and hawing. You could defend your fellow detectives without taking it personally, knowing when wrongs were wrong and when to push.

And if those conversations started stretching longer, and if you found yourself lingering in his offices more and more, well. Amanda had permission to tease you about it in private.

But only in private.

In public, she could only send sly looks, looks you stubbornly avoided by meeting others’ gazes or looking down at your laptop.

Like in that moment, when Barba’s gaze met yours in his office, and the little nod he offered seemed enough to make your heart pound. A glance at Amanda, with her laugh behind her hand and head shaking, told you all you needed to know about how gone you were.

“Detective?”

Your gaze shot back to Rafael. This time his gaze wasn’t one of equals, but one of concern, his head tilted almost a little. And in that moment, you realized that he was asking you a question, that he had been nodding at you to answer…

“Sorry, sorry,” you scrambled, blinking a few times, trying to ignore the way Amanda kicked you under the small round table. “What was the question?”

“You’re the one who visited Miss Stevens last,” he said, pushing from his desk to stand up tall, walk towards you and your friend. “What’s your take?”

The interaction with your witness came back to you, and you grimaced a little at the thought of her taking the stand.

“Bless her heart,” you said, on instinct, shaking your head as you thought about her answers to the simple questions you asked her.

“That bad, huh?” the blonde said with a wince, and you nodded, sighing.

“Unfortunately.”

“What?” Barba’s brow raised with his question, and you realized that while Amanda got the gist, you were leaving the counselor in the dust for once.

Well. How to explain… politely…

You bit your lower lip a moment before speaking. “Miss Stevens is very… kind,” you offered, shrugging, “but her attention span is not the… greatest. A little… naïve, is the word I’d use, I guess.”

After a moment, Barba looked to Amanda, who just smiled sweetly. “I think what Y/N is implying is that, after talking with her, she realized that… uh.”

Nothing from Barba, who just looked between the two of you.

“Is what?”

It wasn’t worth the games anymore, even though the confusion on Barba’s face was hilarious. You turned to nod at Amanda, before leaning back in your chair, sighing.

“She’s, frankly, as dumb as a doornail.” When Southern politeness didn’t work, the next step was brutal honesty. “Which shouldn’t matter, but you put her up there –”

“And any defense attorney worth their salt would have her saying whatever they wanted her to,” Amanda finished. You reached over to pat her hand in thanks, and she just grinned at you, the two of you turning to the lawyer simultaneously. He didn’t answer immediately, eyes flicking back and forth between the two of you. 

“If you prep her really well,” you offered to him, “there’s a chance. But it has to be… really well.” You and your fellow detective stood, and as she moved to the door you just shrugged at the attorney.

“And you have doubt in my abilities to prep well?” Barba shot back, and you grinned at him. For the moment, Amanda was gone, just you and him and some verbal flirting to finish off the day.

You lingered in the doorway, and ignored the sound of Amanda’s foot tapping on the carpet. “I have doubt in her abilities to listen well.”

He just chuckled, shaking his head and letting out a breath. Whatever it took to finish a case. “All right. Well. I’ll figure it out. Thank you, for the extra lesson today. Three ways to use a phrase is… more than I was expecting.”

You chuckled, shaking your head at him, before an idea sprung to mind that made you pause before you turned out of the room.  

“Want me to call her in tomorrow? Bring her down to the precinct?” When he seemed to hestitate, you pushed a little. “She might be more comfortable with me there, and she’s already been to the precinct in one of our interview rooms. Might be best to introduce you at someplace she’s… familiar?”

Maybe you were hallucinating, but Amanda might as well have been on Mars. Because the smile Barba gave? It had to be all for you.

The case ended up finishing strong. Or, almost finishing. The tail end of the case found the two of you jogging out of the courthouse into a rush of cool fall winds, your noses going numb at the feeling as the sun started to set over the skyline.

“She did well,” you praised, hunching your shoulders against the cold. “Should never have doubted you.”

“Couldn’t have done it without New York’s finest,” he admitted, and when you glanced at him the only way to describe it was… mirth.

“Damn straight, counselor.”

Your steps were in time. No other detectives, no other lawyers, just the two of you making your way down to the street and relishing in the feeling of a well-fought battle.

“All that’s left is the jury,” you hummed. “Waiting’s always the hardest part.” 

“We could go grab a drink,” he offered with a little shrug. “Kill some of that time?” 

It was sudden, out of the blue. A moment that you were sure you imagined. “What?” you asked, turning to face him. You expected him to be staring out to the street, or up at the sky, but he was just staring at you, smirk ever-present and adding some sweet seduction to the offer.

“A drink. You, and me.”  

You tried to ignore that butterflies that suddenly took roost in your stomach, and the way your hand hastily went to your hair to make sure the wind wasn’t messing with it too much. “The case isn’t over yet, Barba. Are you sure you want to risk it?”

After a glance around the front steps, he stepped closer to you, smiling. He was wearing that bronze-colored wool coat, and you resisted the urge to reach a hand out, brush off imaginary lint. When he smiled, it was like his eyes lit up, the browns in the coat making the greens shine bright. 

“Then after the case,” he amended. “Once it’s over. Nothing to risk.”

He was serious. He wanted a drink. With you. You had to blink a few times, ducking your gaze to laugh. Amanda would get a kick out of this. Would probably also say that she told you so. “Hope you didn’t just push our luck saying that out loud,” you teased, but his smile didn’t waver when you met his eyes once more. 

“I mean it.”

It was that moment, you supposed. That moment when you looked at him and realized the counselor was looking at you the same way you knew you looked at him.

He was looking at you, and he was smiling, and you couldn’t get enough.

When you nodded, it was short, a little shy, your head ducking again as you pulled your own coat tighter around yourself, your hand tucking your scarf in to keep out the chill.

“Yeah, counselor,” you said. “I’d like that a lot, actually.” 

Then, because you couldn’t help it, you reached forward anyway, let your hand brush something off of his shoulder, flattened out the collar and let your fingers catch on the material. Smiled, as you looked at him.

“It’s a date.” 

-

You loved watching your boyfriend in his element. Because before almost anything else, Rafael Barba was a lawyer. And a damn good one.

The victims, plural, shared some vicious horror stories when they came into the squad room, some stories that they were brave enough to repeat on the stand. Rafael walked them through it, led them to places where they could share all of the details, and prepped them well for the defense’s return volley.

And considering that it was Buchanan, the victory was all the sweeter, especially since the perp was a scumbag who hadn’t wiped the smug look off of his face the whole trial.

Until today, of course. Rafael did his job, and you got the joy of catching his wink as he moved back to his seat, the perp’s words fumbling in his throat as Rafael trapped him in one lie after another. It was like music to your ears, and the sight of Buchanan putting his head in one had was visually just as sweet. 

“It isn’t over yet,” Rafael told you, meeting you at the doors once the jurors filed away, but you just shook your head.

“Not like you to be humble,” you laughed. “Come on, handsome. You know it was a good day.”

You relished in the way his eyes scanned you, the sight of the smirk on his face, the relaxed set of his shoulders.

“Let’s not jinx it. Just. Enjoy it while it lasts.”

You just chuckled, offered a brush of your shoulders to tide the two of you over, and together you started moving out of the courtroom. Only to be stopped by Buchanan, of course, whose voice made your spine stiffen.

“Just a moment, counselor.”

The two of you turned in sync, Buchanan meeting up with you right outside before the hallway. As the three of you stepped out of court, the tension you always felt between the two lawyers seemed heightened. Buchanan’s usual relaxed attitude was gone, replaced by a furrowed brow hestitation as he stepped towards the representative of the people.

“Well, that was quick,” Rafael sighed, and you bit your lip to keep from laughing.

“I want to discuss your offer. Rape Three, on both counts.” 

Rafael’s scoff was sharp.

“After what happened in that courtroom, I think we both know the deal has changed,” Barba shot back, raising a brow at the man in front of him. You couldn’t help the smirk on your face, glancing down to your shoes as Rafael talked to him. “Both counts of Rape Two, served consecutively, and I’ll consider only adding sexual misconduct for the Queens cases if he pleads guilty.”

“You call that a deal?” Buchanan scoffed, and your man just shrugged. “That’s barely a discount.”

Rafael didn’t back down, though, glancing towards the empty pews. “It’s better than two counts of Rape One, which we both know that jury is going to heavily consider. You had your chance for a better deal. It’s my final offer.”

The aghast look on Buchanan’s face was priceless. “Kicking me while I’m down,” Buchanan sneered, and you glanced up in time to see him direct his words at you. “Can you believe this guy? Punishing me for having an off day once in a while.”

It made your skin crawl. You hated the way he looked at you, and you found yourself lifting your chin to meet his gaze head-on.

“Well, bless your heart, Mr. Buchanan,” you told him, oozing fake saccharine from every pore. “Lord knows we all have bad days.” Your smile was tight, and he had the gall to return it.

“Look at that, Barba,” Buchanan said, nodding at you like your words actually meant something. “I think you should take a lesson from the detective here. No one likes a sore winner. Show a little courtesy, for me and my client.”

“My offer is final. Take it or leave it.”

Buchanan’s smile was tight, and he shook his head at the A.D.A. before turning away. “We’ll discuss it later today.”

“Is that a yes?” Barba called after him, and Buchanan visibly sighed, dropping his chin.

“I need to confer with my client,” he called back, and he turned a corner, vanishing in the maze that was the courthouse.

You shivered as he turned the corner, hating that you even thought about smiling at him.

“Suddenly decide to play nice with defense attorneys, cariño?” Rafael asked, his tone light as he watched all of your hatred finally show. You could tell he was teasing, that he knew the taste of your tone as well as any other.

“That, darlin’, was a good ol’ Southern fuck you,” you ground out, and Rafael’s hand lifted to rest on your back, turning you towards the elevator. You glanced toward him, as the two of you walked, and there was something like admiration on his face, a little smile that nowadays made you warm because you knew it was all for you.

“I don’t think anyone else gets you this riled up,” he teased lightly, and your eyes rolled even as your chin lifted. The doors opened, and the two of you were the only ones who got on. “And believe it or not, I could tell just what sentiment you were trying to get across.” When the elevator door closed his hands went to your shoulders, squeezing a little, fingers rubbing into the junction at your neck to work the muscle there.

“But I don’t think Buchanan did,” you laughed, the tension Buchanan always put in your shoulders leaking away as he continued to touch you, pulling you close for a kiss on your cheek before the doors slid open again.

“Eres una bendición,” he whispered to you, walking behind you as the two of you got off, and you turned to smile at him, raising a brow when he used a word you didn’t recognize. He just shook his head, threw a wink your way. “Meet me at my office?”

You chuckled a little, waving your hand, already missing the feeling of his fingers on your skin. “After work, of course.”

“Of course, counselor.”

-

(The sign of a good education was always that the student could put the lessons into practice. And Rafael was nothing but a good student. So in the end, it was meant to happen, and you were just lucky enough to witness it.

A night late night in his office, different paperwork wars being waged. An occasional tease from his desk thrown to your position on his couch, where you had set up shop.

Eventually though, the night wound down as it always did. The two of you sharing the couch, shoes off and feet tangled in the middle as he scribbled where he needed you, and your fingers typed away on your laptop.

The exhaustion was starting to get to you both though, and after your eyes crossed and blurred for the third time, you had to click save and close your laptop.

“I think I’m tapping out,” you groaned, leaning back against the arm of the couch. “Any longer and I’ll go blind from the blue light.”

“Not even midnight, cariño. Don’t tell me you’re giving up now,” Rafael teased, and you kicked his calf at the comment, eyes closing as you settled in, feeling the warmth of him on your legs.

“Unlike someone, I was sitting in a car to watch an apartment at dawn, so I think I have a good excuse.”

“Well, bless your heart,” he returned with a little verve, and your eyes shot open. Widened, as you sat up to stare.

It didn’t sound right in his mouth. His own New Yorker tone, his quick lawyer beat, it made it feel all jumbled up. Not enough oomph to really get the point across. But even as painfully wrong as it was, he said it, and that was what made your mouth stretch into a grin, made you scoot a little closer to him as he flipped through his own file, your laptop set (perhaps a little precariously) on the arm.

“What did you just say, counselor?”

It hit him the moment after you asked. Confusion washing over his features, and then realization, followed by something that looked a little like astonishment.

Maybe horror, but you didn’t hold that against him.

“Rafael,” you laughed. “I think your lessons in the South have ended, and I am the best teacher.”)