#i've been thinking a lot about those stories where couples get straight married then one comes out as trans and the other comes out as gay

[transboykirito]

some short rambling kirisuna with trans girl kirito my beloved

Asuna tossed and turned, unable to fall asleep. They’d been laying in bed for hours now, and she was pretty sure that neither she nor Kazuto had slept for so much as five minutes. She couldn’t be sure what was keeping him up, but she knew what was keeping her awake, and it made her want to cry conflicted tears.

She was a lesbian.

It was a recent realisation, but it was one that hit her like a bolt of lightning. 

She’d considered it for months now, going back and forth with her friends and with her own reflection in the mirror. She’d done her research, she’d read every article she could find. Everything brought her to the same conclusion.

She loved Kazuto, she really did. If there was such a thing as soulmates, he was hers. It was like their minds and bodies were designed just to fit together, to be each other’s perfect matching halves.

But she couldn’t deny that the idea of calling somebody her husband felt… wrong. It felt like something she was supposed to do, something that was the simple, natural progression of things. She’d married a nice man, settled down and now she was his wife. That was what was expected of her.

They’d been married for six months now, and she’d be lying if she didn’t say that, on one or two occasions, she’d re-imagined their wedding day, where she might find a bride waiting for her at the alter instead of a groom.

The guilt ate her alive. She loved her husband, her soul loved his soul, but she knew deep down there would always be something deeply unsatisfactory about her life unless she was honest with him, like there was a piece of herself that she'd never have a chance to truly discover or grow. She would spend years wondering what could have been, who she could have been if she'd given herself the chance.

Kazuto had been open about his own feelings towards Eugeo and a handful of boys and men he’d known throughout his life. Hell, it was one of those conversations that had prompted Asuna to follow up on the silent, conflicting feelings she’d felt for years. She knew he would forgive her if she asked to break things off. He would understand.

…Right?

She’d been trying to have the conversation for days now. She’d found her conclusion within herself, all she had to do was voice it. She knew she couldn’t keep trying to hide this away.

She’d reached her breaking point the night before, when she’d fallen asleep to a blissful dream of their wedding day. Except… the one dancing with her wasn’t Kazuto, but a strangely familiar, faceless woman. She’d held Asuna so securely as they danced that Asuna felt like she’d known her for her entire life, and she’d woken up in tears.

She wanted to find that woman, find that moment.

Kazuto deserved that moment of his own, too.

“Asuna…” Kazuto’s voice whispered in the dark, “Are you still awake?”

“Yes,” she rolled over to look at him, her eyes widening when she saw his face. Was he… crying?

“I’m fine,” he said quickly, already sensing her concerns growing, “I… I need to talk to you about something. I think you might already know.”

She panicked. She had noticed something was off about him for a few weeks, but she’d been so preoccupied with her own thoughts that she told herself she was imagining things. God, how much had she missed? 

“Are you okay? What’s wrong?” Asuna reached out her hand to hold his own under the blanket, tracing her thumb in circles over the back of his hand. She wasn’t sure if she was trying to soothe him or herself.

Kazuto took a deep breath, “Listen. I’ve been thinking about a lot.”

So have I, Asuna thought to herself, a little sarcastically.

“I didn’t realise how hard this would be to say,” Kazuto said, a laugh almost dancing on the edge of his voice, “You… you know how I’ve been playing GGO a lot more, lately?”

Asuna could recall the hours he’d lost to that game in just the past month - really, it had to be unhealthy. But Kazuto had seemed happy each time he woke from his dive, and Asuna couldn’t complain about that. If anything, she was just happy he was finally enjoying games other than ALO.

“Of course I noticed, did something happen in the game? Is Shino-non okay?”

Then Asuna’s thoughts turned sour. She didn’t play GGO nearly as often as Kazuto or Shino did, guns just weren’t really her style, so she didn’t truthfully pay much attention to what happened in the game. Kazuto knew that, Shino knew that. Had they been using GGO as a place to secretly meet up and…

She must have been easy to read - honestly, between herself and Kazuto, they could read each other as easily as a book, it came with the territory of being so familiar to one another - because Kazuto immediately screwed his face up.

“It’s not what you’re thinking, I promise, it has nothing to do with Shino,” he assured her, noticeably avoiding looking her in the eye.

Whatever it was, it was serious. She’d never seen him this frustrated just trying to talk to her. Yes, there were moments when they’d had petty arguments or been frustrated with one another, but he looked completely angry with himself as he seemingly battled with his tongue to form the words.

“There’s something I need to say, too…” Asuna’s voice was small, nervous. If Kazuto had something serious to say, they might as well both get things off their chests at once.

Kazuto gave her a look, somewhere between terrified and sympathetic, and smiled a forced smile.

“We’ll say it on three, okay?”

Asuna swallowed. Kazuto took a shaking breath.

“One…”

“Two…”

“Three…”

“I’m a lesbian.”

“I think I’m a woman.”

Then there was silence. 

They both tried to process what they’d just heard, and for a moment Asuna wondered if she’d simply made up what Kazuto had just said. This had to be a dream, right?

Then there was laughter.

“Really?” Kazuto asked, because Kazuto was truly the one person in the world who would be able to make Asuna laugh when she felt like sobbing.

She nodded a little, “I’ve been trying to tell you for a few weeks, I just didn’t want to lose you.”

“Oh, same here,” Kazuto breathed a sigh of relief, “Do you still want to be together? I mean, I know this probably takes some time to get used to, and I don’t really know where I want to go from here or what I want to do now, and I haven’t picked out a new name really, but-”

“I want to be with you forever.” Asuna interrupted, “That’s why I was so afraid to tell you. I knew I had to tell you eventually, but I couldn’t bare the thought of having to lose the person I love so much. I guess I should have known that wouldn’t happen.”

“Guess you’re still stuck with me after all,” Kazuto joked, then she smiled and pulled Asuna into a tight hug, kissing the top of her head. Asuna gently kissed her shoulder over the fabric of the t-shirt she’d worn to bed, humming to herself contentedly.

So, Kazuto really was her soulmate after all. They’d be each other’s happily ever after, their dream for the rest of their lives, it would just take a little work to get there - and how exciting it was that she got to be by her side for all of it, right from the very beginning.

“What should I call you now?” Asuna asked.

Kazuto rolled over to lay on her back, and Asuna rolled on top of her. They’d slept like this so many times, it really was a wonder they still insisted on having a king-sized bed. Asuna’s half was usually wasted space.

“Kazuto, I think. For now, anyway. I wanted to find something else, but…”

“But?”

“I’m so used to the way you say my name, it feels weird when I try to find anything else. I liked Kazuko, or maybe Kazuha, but I think I’m overthinking it.”

“Kazuko,” Asuna repeated the name a few times, smiling, “I like it, it’s pretty! I think you should be allowed to overthink this, it’s a big decision.”

She blushed, “It sounds pretty when you say it.” 

“Kazuko?” Asuna looked up at her, blushing just as much as she was, “I like saying it too, Kazuko. I’ll keep saying it while you get used to it, if you want me to?”

“Of course,” Kazuko grinned, “Just… not in front of the others just yet. I haven’t had the guts to tell anybody else yet.”

“Of course, I won’t say anything until you want me to, Kazuko,” Asuna felt a pair of arms wrapped securely around her middle and she relaxed, breathing in deeply. She felt so, so safe with her.

“Can I ask… when did you realise? That you were a lesbian, I mean,” Kazuko asked, deftly tracing patterns on Asuna’s side with her fingertip.

“I’ve been thinking about it for a while,” Asuna admitted shyly, “I think I finally made my mind up about it around three weeks ago now. How about you, if you don’t mind my asking?”

Kazuko laughed again, “Around three weeks ago, when I had this dream about us getting married, but… we were both brides. I can’t believe I was so stupid, I should have just told you right away, we could have both avoided feeling so crappy the last few weeks.”

“I’ve been dreaming about the same thing,” Asuna said, then she yawned, “I love you, Kazuko. I’m glad we can tell each other anything.”

She swore she actually felt her heart skip a beat, and she giggled to herself. She had the cutest wife in the world.

A wife.

She had a wife.

Sure, things were going to take time to get used to, but she had the most incredible woman in the world by her side. They’d make it through anything together.

“We can talk about this more in the morning,” Kazuko mumbled, kissing Asuna again as she started to fall asleep, “Thank you for trusting me to tell me anything.”

So, just like they had so many nights before, and just like they were going to continue to do for the rest of their lives, Asuna and Kazuko fell asleep in each other’s arms, and Asuna remembered for the millionth time that the woman she was lying with truly was her soulmate, in every sense of the word.

And when she finally fell asleep that night, she found herself reliving the same dream she’d had a precious few times now - a dream she was certain would one day come true. An eternally familiar woman, her beloved Kazuko, holding her so securely as they danced, like she’d known her their entire lives.

Someday, she knew they would.

[whatimdoing-here]

weird personal update under cut, mostly for those who've been around awhile. i guess i can put an intro too.

honestly there are so many new followers here i'm assuming for gif reasons but... like.. sorry guys. it's a fairly rare thing. others do them better and quicker than me for the most part. my poor 7 year old laptop i make them on is a struggle. new person intro to me below, but first let me get to the part where i journal so it's off my chest.

i use tumblr as a journal of sorts. and honestly it's thanks to tumblr in general i started questioning my sexuality when i was in my mid 20s. living in a very white, conservative state - even if you live in a liberal family, that shit just gets ingrained. i was never homophobic or anything, just didn't consider anything other than straight an option. long story short, figured the bi was the best label for me at that time, definitely made me feel better, and more like myself. my partner (husband) was like yeah that's cool all good i support you let me know if you need anything from me and it's been great since.

another... long-ish story in a shorter form... i started struggling the last year or two with all of it again. just feelings and s.x feelings and whatever, a big reason of why i started therapy. basically come to the decision i land on the ace spectrum somewhere. i know much less about being asexual, and it definitely doesn't feel as "good" coming to this realization. i think i probably fall close to the demi- label. but labels and feelings are hard. and since 1) i'm pretty uneducated and 2) no one wants to hear about my sx life, i'm not going to go into things. i just wanted to throw out there that... i'm still figuring shit out. this convo with m was a lot harder, went a lot worse. then there was a better second convo. he's still supportive, it's just harder for reasons that are personal to him so i won't delve into. our relationship is okay, he doesn't want to open our marriage, and not much has changed honestly. i'm still trying to figure out my boundaries, and where my 'am i doing this because i want to or feel like i have to' lines are. it's... not fun. adding to that that if things ever came to the point where our marriage wouldn't work... that completely changes not only my life in a large way, but the kids, and m's. that is the fuckin scariest thing. sexuality discovery would be way less scary if i wasn't scared it will eventually negatively affect people in my life. i'm very much a "i will accept this thing that's not great for me and be quiet to keep the calm and happiness of those around me" in most cases. i don't like taking up space for myself. it's been a rough couple months.

anyway if i had to label i'd go with biromantic, asexual (with some ace labels i may or may not ever figure out)

getting older is a fuckin trip. you think you should know what you want and who you are but no one really knows. and life changes us and we discover more about who we are. for those newbies that are not even 20... your 20s and 30s are great. just... be prepared to shift and change and evolve and be okay with that.

anyway. new folks. i'm alex. i live in the middle of the us. i have two kids (boys, 8 and 5) that... i've been on tumblr longer than either of them have been alive. i work from home in (broadly) a data role within a corporation. i enjoy my work, its flexibility, and just data in general. give me numbers. i've been married for 14 years this june, and i'll be 34 in july.

i watch nwsl and uswnt for sports mostly. working on reading more novels again. obviously my tv obsessions are clear within minutes of looking at my blog. i talk parent stuff too sometimes, it's obviously a big part of who i am, but i'll leave their names and pics off the blog for their safety. i'll show my stupid face here though. sometimes i'll talk about seizures (i have them occasionally, unfortunately, and my brain isn't feeling great right now) and other medical stuff if it's bothering me because this place really is like a journal release for me. i hold some stuff back but yeah. i'll tag with 'personal nonsense' if you want to mute. sometimes i post and delete because i read it again later and decide no one needs to read that shit.

you're always welcome to say hi. i'm fairly harmless, but also keep walls up until i know you better.

uhhh i think that's it. mmmbye

[looselyunwound]

So, growing up, I was friends with the girl next door. Seriously.

Well, my sister was the one who was really good friends with her.

And technically, she lived across the street and down one.

But, you get the idea. For all intents and purposes, she was the girl next door. In all sense of the term. Pretty, sweet, funny and caring. I'd always had a bit of a crush on her and I'm pretty sure it was reciprocated. Either that or she really loved playing with my sister and her Barbie dolls a lot.

Anyway, we'd known each other for years and I finally worked up the courage to ask her out. As it turns out, someone else had the exact same thought on the exact same day. Except, the other person asked 30 minutes before I did.

30. Fucking. Minutes.

That 30 minutes ended up lasting a few years.

One day, my sister says to me 'You know they broke up, right?'

I did not.

That afternoon, I had the longest phone call (actual phone call, there was no texting, FaceTiming, IMing of any kind) I've ever had in my life. Six hours and 20 minutes. I couldn't really remember that we spoke about but there was definitely some playing music from my little boom box over the phone. That I do remember.

Anyway, we had a couple more extended phone calls over the coming week and I got the guts to ask her out again.

[Lunch be damned! There was no way I was waiting 30 minutes again. I was even looking around, checking there weren't dudes hiding out in bushes waiting for me to tie my shoelace or something and swoop in.]

She said yes. I was over the moon. We hung out all the time. it was so great.

We'd go to parties at my friends' girlfriends' house. You know the one. [I'm pretty sure we wouldn't have spoken at that party...]

We'd also go to parties at my friends house. Where his friends would come along. Ah, good times...

I remember a particular party at my friends house [We DEFINITELY didn't speak at that one.], and one of his friends was there and I was doing the rounds and introducing her to everybody, and he got this look in his eye. At the time, I didn't know what this look was but I remember how it made me feel.

This look was like 'I'm talking to the love of my life and I don't care who is around - not even her boyfriend' and I gulped. Hard.

[Everything was gonna be cool, right?!??! I had nothing to worry about...right??!?!]

I had lots to worry about.

The reason I had lots to worry about is because of what I'd missed about that interaction that had played out before me at that party. I only had half the picture because her back was turned.

See, she also had a look on her face as well that said 'I'm talking to the love of my life and I don't care who is around - not even my boyfriend'.

What happened not long after that, was still the weirdest moment I think I've been a part of.

It was a Valentine's Day. I was at the local shopping mall and I spotted my girlfriend and a few of her friends, walking in my general direction and my girlfriend was holding some flowers and a teddy bear. Super cute and sweet, right? Wrong. She sees me, walks straight past and enters the store where my friends friend works, and leaves.

Empty handed.

WTF?!? Can you do that?!?!

Unsurprisingly, I never heard from her or even saw her for a long time after that day.

Fast forward a few years and they are happily married (a little strange seeing as though technically, her and I are still dating but you know....whatever) and have two beautiful children.

And you know what? I can't be mad. He even said to me (to my face in fact) that he was going to ask her out. I didn't think he'd actually do it but, there you go. The only person that can be held responsible in the situations outlined in this blog is me. Just me.

Now, for those of you following this little story might remember a couple of things I'd learned from a previous encounter which was essentially the following. 1. You love who you love. and 2. Me learning what 'love' is.

This one taught me another really important (and pertinent) lesson when it comes to love.

3. Don't hesitate.

If you love someone, tell them. If you don't love someone anymore, tell them. Don't question your gut. It rarely steers you in the wrong direction. Don't wait. It sounds cliche but you never know how much time you really have.

My chance would come....eventually....and there was no fucking way I was going to wait until the end of lunch this time.

[minty-malfoy]

“would you still love me if I turned into a worm?” | blurbs

🌱 pairings: reader x blaise zabini, cedric diggory, draco malfoy, fred weasley, george weasley, harry potter, hermione granger, luna lovegood, neville longbottom (sorted in alphabetical order)

🌱 warning tags: language, probably

━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Blaise Zabini

“A what, now?” your boyfriend asks, halting the movements of his quill to look up at you; brows furrowed as if it’s the most absurd thing he has ever heard in his entire life.

“You know, those wiggly things that—”

“I know what worms are, (y/n). But what the hell?”

“Dunno,” you shrug. “I’m bored.”

“So you thought about what it’d be like to turn into a worm?” his eyes narrow out of pure bewilderment, blinking once, twice, as he finally turns back to his unfinished essay. “Sometimes I wonder what goes on in that head of yours.”

“Not my fault you’re taking so long with that assignment,” you grumble as you begin to shift on the puffy couch, feeling somewhat annoyed by how cold and empty it is without the other boy in it. “And besides, you love me.”

An amused chuckle escapes his lips. “Can’t say that I don’t.”

“Even as a worm?”

“Will you stop asking if I said yes?”

You nod happily, giving him the answer he needs— or well, wants, really. Even though Blaise couldn’t quite understand the pointless question, he knows it’s significant to an extent.

“Yeah, alright. I would. Now give me five minutes and we can get out of here. Deal?”

A glint of satisfaction flashes through your eyes as you give him a hum in return, thinking to yourself that maybe the silly questions could be more useful than you thought.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Cedric Diggory

The moment the words leave your mouth, Cedric's first reaction is to laugh. He didn't mean for it to come out in a condescending way. He hadn't even meant to laugh, to begin with. But judging by the way you pout with both arms crossed, that might just have been how it came accross.

"I'm sorry," he offers sheepishly. "you were saying?"

"You heard me. I said what I've said," you grumble, despite not being genuinely upset at the hufflepuff boy you've grown to love.

"Wait, I need to get this straight," he takes another breath of air. "You're serious?"

"What do you think?" you pout once again, turning away slightly from your boyfriend. This only seems to ignite his amusement as much as it does his guilt. A second or two later, his arm finds its way around your shoulder, the other brushing a few strands of hair behind your ear.

"You really haven't figured it out yet?" he asks with a genuine grin on his face. You begin to eye him curiously, appreciating the charm of his pearly white teeth as you wait for the boy to go on. Soon, he pulls you into his lap where his arms craddle you lovingly.

"Sunshine," he begins. "I'm surprised you still have to ask. But if that's one way of putting my love for you, then yes. You'd be my favorite worm in the entire world."

"Promise?" you present your pinkie finger as a final means to seal the deal.

With one last chuckle, he wraps his fingers around yours. "Promise."

Everything that happens next is a flurry of innocent pecks and kisses planted along your skin, coupled with the security of two warm arms holding you in place.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Draco Malfoy

"And what exactly do you expect me to say to that?" comes his first response after a long moment of trying to figure out just how in Merlin's name your mind came up with that question.

You, on the other hand, can't help but giggle at the slytherin boy's confusion. "Whatever's on your mind right now will do."

"Well, to be honest with you, I can't quite stomach the idea of my own girlfriend turning into a bloody worm." he nearly spits the words out, softening his edge only when your eyes meet once again. "If you were expecting a different answer, I suggest moving on to the next bloke."

Draco wasn't lying about that first bit. Worms have always been an insignificant, unseen creature in his world; wiggling in the muckiest of places where they could easily be stepped on. Hence, he doesn't like to imagine you—someone so perfectly ethereal and quintessential in every single way; the only source of light shining into his pathetic excuse of a life—to be compared to a dirty worm, of all things.

"That doesn't mean I don't love you, though," he adds in a bit of a guilty tone; voice much, much softer this time. He brings your hand to his lips, dropping a few kisses on its skin. "I just much prefer having you as you already are."

You snuggle deeper into him, indicating that you already know exactly what he means.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Fred Weasley

“A worm!” Fred exclaims, nearly forgetting the food on his plate altogether. "What a brilliant idea!"

A few seats away, you can already see Ginny clamping her mouth shut as to not burst into fireworks of laughter. You mirror her gesture, eyes now on Fred once again, watching him announce this idea of yours to your entire group of friends.

Ron, who's not that thrilled to see his brother's public displays of affection, lets out a groan. "Wouldn't have asked him that if I were you."

"You think so?" comes your reply. "He seems to be having a lot of fun with this." you both glance at Fred, who is indeed already coming up with some sort of thrilling plot.

"Did you hear that, George?"

"Sure did, Fred."

"I reckon we could come up with a potion for that," he muses, turning back to look at you. "Give me a week or two and we can start living out that worm dream of yours, love."

"Wait, Freddie, you're getting it all wrong," you begin explaining, tugging on the boy's sleeve slightly to keep his attention on you, "It was just a silly little question. I don't actually plan on turning into a worm or anything like that."

At this point, you half expect his enthusiasm to die down from the grounding effect of your words. In reality, it doesn't.

"S'that so?" he replies, earning a nod from you. "Looks like you're missing the bigger picture to me, (y/n). Isn't that right, George?"

"Right you are, Fred." the said boy affirms. "Sorry, (y/n). I'm with him on this one."

With a sigh, you turn back to Ron, who's busily stuffing his mouth with a look on his face that says I told you so. You shake your head with a small smile at your boyfriend's shenanigans. You're not sure how you can both dread and anticipate the day of his worm adventures.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━

George Weasley

"That's a new one," he asserts with an amused laugh. The boy rests his head against one of his palms, feeling instantly intrigued by your proposition. "Now tell me more about this worm business of yours."

"That's about it, actually." you admit sadly.

George frowns at this, wishing he could hear more worm stories and whatnot. Mostly he's just happy to see the way you talk about things passionately. Makes him feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside in a way he can't ever get enough of.

"That's quite alright. I'll do the talking, then." he offers, rubbing his chin to think of what to say next. You light up in your seat, eyes wide in anticipation. Now it's your turn to eagerly wait for his response once again.

"I've got an idea. We could run off and start a new life— as worms!" he beams all of a sudden. You raise a brow for him to go on, not exactly complaining about your boyfriend's excitement towards the topic. "I'm only turning into a worm to make sure I can properly take care of you, of course. Wouldn't want to—er—squash you between my big human fingers, now do we?"

You both erupt into a chorus of laughter at the conjectured image, melting into one another like two fitting puzzle pieces. When you finally catch your breath again, you pose the main question once more, "So I'm concluding you're still going to love me, then?"

"Love you?" he repeats. "Oh darling, I'll be marrying you in a grand worm wedding!"

You can't hold back the gasp that escapes your lips, more than thrilled to have the first mention of marriage between you. Not too long after, you transform into a complete fit of giggles when George continues. "Then we'll happily live our worm lives, 'till death do us apart. Or when, you know, some bloke accidentally steps on us. Whichever comes first."

You lean into him lovingly to steady yourself after all the laughing. Taking a deep breath in, you mumble a soft, "You always know how to make me laugh, Georgie."

And the truth is, he wouldn't have it any other way. Worms or not.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Hermione Granger

"I'm sorry, I don't think I understand the point of this question."

"Which part, exactly?" you inquire, watching your girlfriend pull out another book from the wooden library shelves.

A few seconds pass before you get your answer. "You're not a worm," she states simply, eyeing you up and down as if to prove her point.

"Yes, thank you for pointing that out, 'Mione," you follow her to the next section. "Which is why I said if I turned into a worm."

The girl looks at you again, analyzing your words and expression briefly before coming to another conclusion. "I still don't understand." she pauses to think. "Unless you might be interested in becoming an Animagus? Even then, opting for a worm wouldn't be very... effective."

You roll your eyes, speeding up to block the girl's way. She lets out a non-committal "Hey!", only for you to quickly muffle it with a warm kiss. A moment or two later, you pull away with a smirk that makes her heart melt. "Just answer the question, would you?"

Still slightly caught off guard from the contact, Hermione finally caves in. "Alright, you cheeky flirt. I love you. Even as a notional worm."

Satisfied with her answer, you plant another peck— this time on her cheek, before announcing a gentle "I love you, too."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Harry Potter

The way his lips purse into a straight line tells you that Harry doesn't exactly understand the question. Not really, at first. Aside from being an entirely foreign concept to his ears, it also seems like an odd thing to ask someone, unless— "Oh! You're an Animagus!"

The smile on your face instantly drops at this. "What? No—"

"Why didn't you just say so, (y/n)?" he begins what—at the time—you don't know is going to be a nearly endless ramble. "I was planning on telling you this for a while now, but I know someone who's an Animagus, actually. In fact, I think you two would get along fantastically!" he lights up at the sudden idea, flailing his arms in the air out of excitement. "Yes, maybe I can try getting the both of you to meet up. No promises, of course, but what do you think?"

"I think you've got it all wrong," you frown; knowing you would have to disappoint your boyfriend and how you're not very fond of the idea.

"What do you mean?" he asks, albeit barely giving you a second to reply. "(y/n), it's alright, really. You know you don't have to hide yourself from me. Besides, I think it's brilliant!— what you can do, I mean."

The smile he gives you is the epitome of love itself, and now you're not quite sure how to handle the messy situation without pulling out the rug underneath Harry's feet. All you can do is squeeze his shoulder with a guilty smile, promising to talk about it again after dinner.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Luna Lovegood

"Of course. Worms are lovely, don't you think?" she says with a dreamy smile. You gape at how easily the answer could be pried from your girlfriend; no questions asked. But then again, it's not like you hadn't expected this exact outcome already.

"Really?"

"Mhm," comes her gentle hum as she begins to stir her honeyed chamomile tea. A soft smile stays glued on her features, as if she's enjoying the conversation. "What kind of worm would you like to be, (y/n)?"

"I haven't really thought about it that far," You admit. "Are you sure, though? We won't be able to hold hands or anything like that."

You can't tell if you had just imagined the almost-frown tugging on her lips, because when she looks back up at you again, her sweet signature Luna smile is back in its place. "I suppose you're right. But I could carry you around everywhere with me. Wouldn't that be lovely?"

"It would be," you nod. "but can a worm even fit into that pocket of yours?" you question, noticing how hers are stuffed with unknown items; blades of grass sticking out ever so slightly. Flowers, perhaps.

"Oh, there's nothing to worry about. See?" she pulls out a couple of daisies and fairy foxgloves to reveal a now empty pocket. "Now, would you like some tea?"

You eagerly join her on the table, snuggling against your girlfriend ever so slightly as you both begin to talk about your day. The entire worm ordeal is slowly slipping out of your mind already.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Neville Longbottom

Neville stops in his tracks at your question, taking a moment to toss the idea back and forth in his mind before he can give you a proper answer. You nearly giggle when his face scrunches up, brows knit and lips parted as he innocently asks, “But why would you turn into a worm?”

"Neville, love, no. It's a hypothetical question."

His entire body relaxes at this, releasing what you assume is a breath of relief. "Oh. I thought you were being serious for a moment there."

You shake your head with a giggle, taking a step closer to adjust the scarf around your boyfriend's neck. "I'm just curious is all. Would you still love me, then?" you ponder.

"Yes! Of course!" comes his instant reply, hands balled up into fists that match the determination on his face. "I would get you a nice worm house with all your favorite flowers in it," he bends one of his gloved finger inwards, beginning to keep count of this hypothetical to-do list. "Would you still be able to have human food? Well, either way, I promise to feed you every single day!"

He pauses, only for a second or two. "Oh! And I'll sing you worm songs! Or maybe we can sing them together? I don't know if you would still be able to talk as a worm though."

You swiftly pull him into an affectionate hug, effectively bringing his rambling—as well as the entire worm topic—to an end. His hands sheepishly find their home around your waist, where he places them softly as if it's his first time hugging you. After all the months of being together, it certainly isn't.

"What was that for?" he dares himself to ask, avoiding your eye contact shyly.

"For being the most loving and adorable boyfriend I could ever ask for," you lean in to plant a soft, gentle kiss on his cheek. You don't miss the way he pulls up his scarf to hide the blossoming blush afterwards.

I have no idea why I wrote this either lol <3

🌷 draco taglist: @arossebyanyothername @kawaii-angelanne @thefandomplace @yuosmi @bbeauttyybbx @mywellspringoflife @slytherinsunrise @avatarbeeb @scarlet-says-hi @lunars @coldlilheart @beiahadid @justmimithings @soundsquid27 @youknowiloveyou-so @n3ssm0nique @ochrythum @explxsion @yaanasluv @autumnpleaves @booksmione @drxcomvlfx @the–queen-of-hell @aspiringsloth20 @runninglownad @snitches-at-dawn @badfvith

🌷 harry taglist: @teheharrypotter @badfvith

[randomshyperson]

Wanda Maximoff/Reader - Land of Thieves - #ChapterSeven

Summary: When you were a child, you swore that no matter how high the reward in your head, she could always count on you. Life as an outlaw in the west is not easy, but you believe that train robberies are still easier than asking a pretty girl to dance. Land of Thieves, also know as your love story with Wanda Maximoff in the Wild West.

AO3> Land of Thieves 

Warnings:  18+, explicit language, explicit violence, slow burn, childhood friends to lovers, cursing, blood.

tags: @mionemymind

It doesn't take long before you reach the town, trotting lightly on the road while keeping your hat concealing your face. You have been to Rhodes a few times before, mostly to play Black Jack at the hotel in town. 

You know it's not the best place to find money-making opportunities, but you lead your horse toward the hotel, where the only decent bar in town is located, to try to find something. Saloons and hotels are always good places where you can hear about business opportunities.

You are relatively surprised to find Carol's sorrel, tied up in the driveway with other horses. You smile, and pet the animal as you dismount from your own horse. And then you walk toward the entrance, ignoring the curious glances that the civilians cast at you, most of them curious to see an outsider woman wearing pants.

Not finding Carol on the fist floor, you immediately assume that she is playing on the second floor, and go up the stairs. You wave your hat at two ladies who look at you in surprise as you reach the second floor.

Looking around as you walk towards the card table, you smile as you notice Carol letting out a laugh as she wins a round. You cross your arms and stop behind the table, watching the game.

- I was told that you were looking for a job in Rhodes. - You mock loudly, attracting the attention of everyone at the table. Seeing that Carol is quick to let out an exclamation sound, suggesting that she knows you, the other players just turn their attention back to the game. 

- Why don't you play with us for a while? - She suggests as the dealer begins to deal the cards again.

- I have work to do. - You say and Carol smiles wryly.

- We always have work to do. - She replies, and you laugh lightly. You watch her win another round, and then she signals that she is done playing. The table lets out an exclamation of disappointment, but Carol just shrugs her shoulders, walking toward you.

- Your friends are upset. - You sneer as she catches up with you and you walk toward the stairs.

- They will survive. - She replies with amusement. You reach the lower level, and walk to the bar. Carol buys herself a drink while you lean on the counter.

- Have you found anything interesting here? - you ask.

- That depends. - She speaks with amusement, and takes a sip of her beer before continuing. - I've encountered rednecks and ranchers with their boots buried in shit who think they are living in the best place in the country. - She sneers, and you laugh lightly. - But I also met the sheriff. They have some kind of feud between two families in this place.

- Really? - You ask and Carol nods.

- They look like those families from that story you liked as a child. - She says, gesturing as if she is trying to remember. - The one with the couple that dies.

- Romeo and Juliet. - You reply in an amused tone, finding the book's description funny.

- Yes, yes, that cheesy thing. - She says. - All I know is that they are filthy rich and they are trying to kill each other.

- Wow, that sounds promising. - You say as you think of the opportunities that might arise with these families of yours.

- I'll check out the families' properties later. - Carol says - I'll ask if they need more guards, or drivers. You know how rich people love to have several employees.

You laugh, agreeing. You are thoughtful for a moment, and Carol frowns.

- What is it with you anyway? - she asks and you shrug.

- I don't know, I'm a bit upset. - You say, turning to lean completely on the counter. - Potts just told me about Knight.

Carol put her hand on your shoulder, as she put the beer on the counter. 

- You know, you could use a drink. - She said as she asked the bartender to pour you both a whiskey. With the drinks in front of her, she raised her glass to make a toast. - To Knight.

You both turned the glass over afterwards, the drink burning in your throat. Carol shook her head and laughed lightly at the strong taste, and you laughed at her frown. 

- Keep it coming, honey. - She told the barman, who served you again. - I remember when I lost my first horse. - she said thoughtfully, before flipping another glass of whiskey. - Talos, he was the fastest Appaloosa I ever rode. Strong and stubborn. Wouldn't let anyone ride him but me, and then he was shot during a robbery.

- That's too bad. - You comment, drinking again. 

- Don't worry, kid. We'll find you another horse. - Carol says, and she gets annoyed at the bartender's delay in serving her and asks him to leave the bottle. After that, your glasses no longer remain empty.

It doesn't take long for the ground at your feet to start spinning along with your head. You are laughing at something, but not sure what. The musician in the bar is playing something very lively on the piano, and you join the people dancing, with Carol leaning an arm on your shoulders. You dance and dance until you stumble out of the bar, looking for a place to relieve yourself.

You stumble between giggles around the outside of the hotel, and Carol leans on you to avoid falling to the ground. You realize that it is already night, and tell the blonde next to you this in a false tone of fear.

- Our wives are going to be so angry. - She comments in a whisper, before laughing again. You follow her.

- Hold on. - You say, as you try to balance yourself. - I think we came from that side.

Carol nods, escorting you back to the hotel. 

You laugh all the way down the hall, and then you feel someone caress your face and your waist making you look up.

A harlot smiles at you, looking at you maliciously. You are too drunk to process exactly what is going on, but you let out a disgruntled grumble.

- Hey sweetie, do you want to come up to my room? - She asks as she presses your bodies together.

- No. - You say, feeling your head spinning. The other woman's perfume was confusing you. You're trying to remember exactly why you weren't enjoying being touched like that, but the alcohol wouldn't let you think straight. You thought it had to do with a redheaded woman. The harlot giggled, realizing your state. You tried to look for Carol, but you didn't see her anywhere.

- Come on, sweetheart. Let's have some fun. - The woman spoke again. You tried to lift her arms off her shoulders, but your muscles didn't seem to respond.

- Sorry, ma'am. - You say half breathlessly. - I think I'm married. - You almost beg, remembering Carol's line. - She'll be angry.

The woman laughs lightly.

- I don't see a ring. - She says holding up your hand. You blink, feeling your eyes tear up.

- Oh my god, have I lost my ring? - You whimper, your stomach starts to turn. 

- Come, I'll make you feel better. - She says, pulling you by the hand. You nod without really understanding what she is saying. She drags you around the room, and you finally see Carol, passed out on the drink counter. You call out to her, but your voice fails you.

And then you are no longer being pulled, and you look forward to see a woman you don't recognize, looking at you with a mixture of anger and concern. She pushes the harlot away, saying words that your drunken brain doesn't understand. And then she turns to you, her lips moving as she places her hands on your cheek, and the warm touch makes your body throb. You think someone is calling you, and you blink in confusion, trying to clear your thoughts. 

- Are you even listening to me? - says the woman, and lets out a grumble. - God, you're completely drunk. - She looks over the back of your shoulder, and you let your eyes wander to her neck, it looks so attractive. You blink in confusion as you are pulled around the hotel, your feet dragging.

- No, ma'am. I'm married, my wife will be upset. - You grumble, feeling your head spinning. 

The woman laughs.

- Oh yes, and who are you married to? - she asks jokingly. Before you know it, you've reached one of the bedrooms.

- I don't remember. - You whine. - My friend told me that my wife would be angry.

The woman doesn't answer, mumbling in response. She sits you down on the bed in the bedroom, taking off your boots. You start humming a song that you think you like.

- Getting wasted in an unknown city, you are so irresponsible. - You listen to the woman grumble, you don't understand why she sounds angry, but you hope she won't be angry with you too.

- Madam, I think I lost my ring. - You mumble, looking down at your hands. The woman helps you onto the bed, and you feel the soft pillows against your head. - Will you help me look for it?

- Yes. Get some sleep and I'll help you when you wake up. - she whispered tenderly. You smile, staring at the green orbs staring back at you with a slight frown.

- I wish you were my wife. - You murmur with a smile before closing your eyes. 

Your head hurts. A lot. You realize it as soon as you try to open your eyes. You grunt in pain, trying to get out of bed. You don't even remember how you got into a bed. And then you look around, realizing that it is a hotel room. Sitting up straight in bed, you run your hand over your face, trying to wake yourself up. 

You are very thirsty and you frown to find a glass of water already waiting for you at the head of the bed. Without thinking much about it, you grab the object and quickly pour the liquid down your throat.

The door opens next, and you let out a surprised exclamation when you see Wanda entering the room.

- Good, you're awake. - She says, but she seems annoyed. And then she lays a set of clothes on the bed. - Put these on.

And then you realize that you're only wearing a nightgown. You frown in confusion, trying to remember anything about last night.

- What happened? - Your voice comes out a little hoarse and you leave the now empty glass on the table. Wanda closes the door and crosses her arms, leaning against the wall.

- You and Carol got completely blasted last night. - She says, a serious expression on her face.

- Where is Carol?

- With Maria, in the next room. - She replies. You nod, stretching your body.

- How did you find me? - you ask, ignoring the latent headache.

- Well, Potts told me you had work to do. And Carol hadn't come back yet, so Maria came to look for her. We found Carol passed out drunk on the bar counter, and you were being dragged by a whore into one of the rooms.

- Oh, God. - You mumbled in shame, covering your face with your hands. 

- No, it's okay. - Wanda retorted, her voice slightly high-pitched with anger. - The woman was clearly trying to take advantage of you, and I told her to go fuck herself. Then she left you alone.

You let out a short laugh, finding Wanda's aggressiveness amusing. But the redhead looked angry, you frowned as you stood up, looking at the clothes she brought you.

- Why are you angry? - you asked, unfolding the shirt. Wanda snorted incredulously.

- You are supposed to be working and I find you completely drunk, almost having sex with a stranger! - Wanda exclaims angrily. You raise your eyebrows in surprise.

- What is it now, Wanda? It's not like I never drink. - You grumble, loosening the threads of your sweater. You pull it off over your head, leaving only your underwear on to put on the clean garments Wanda brought you. Since you are both pissed off now, neither of you really registers this. - Besides, I was upset. With Knight's death and all. Carol just wanted to cheer me up a bit.

- Oh, of course. - Wanda said with a tone of debauchery as you put on your blouse. - You clearly tried to cheer yourself up in the first bed that came along!

You laughed wryly. Where were those accusations coming from, anyway? You didn't even remember anything.

- You just said nothing happened. 

- Because I came on time! - Wanda countered. - If I had stayed at the camp, you would be waking up in her bed right now!

- This is ridiculous. - You grumble, sitting up in bed to put on your boots after your pants. 

- But you know what, I don't even know why I'm saying this to you! - She exclaims flatly, and you don't look at her, just wishing this stupid fight would be over with. - You don't owe me any explanations about who you' re going to bed with.

- What?" - you murmur, but then Wanda comes out of the room, slamming the door. You sit there for a good few minutes, trying to understand exactly what has happened.

You hear a knock on the door, and then Maria pokes her head into the room, smiling at you.

- Hi Maria. - You greet her, getting up.

- Hi Y/N. We're going back to the camp, are you coming? - She asks, and you just nod, a sad smile on your lips.

- I still have work to do, and I don't think Wanda wants to talk to me right now.

Maria waves sadly to you, and leaves the room, closing the door. You let out an annoyed sigh, grabbing your hat from the headboard before leaving the room.

Carol waits for you at the bar, and she is drinking water. She doesn't seem upset.

- Hey, good morning. - She says hello and you accept when she pours you some water.

- Not so good. - You mutter as you sit down. Carol giggles.

- I'm sorry about your fight. - She says, and you frown with confusion. She shrugs. - You both talk loud.

You nod in agreement, leaning your face against your hands. 

- Is everything okay with Maria? - you ask, and Carol nods.

- She was worried, but not really angry. - She says, and grabs her own hat, which she had left resting on the counter, and puts it on her head. - Let's focus on work for a few hours, shall we?

- Okay. - You murmur, getting up to follow Carol out of the hotel.

Carol rides beside you as far as the city limits, humming softly. You are lost in your own thoughts, reviewing the argument with Wanda, when you hear her calling you.

- You need money, right? - she asks.

- Yes. - You simply reply.

- I have a hint. - She says. - I helped a fellow at the station. He told me about a carriage. 

You laugh.

- What fella, Danvers? - You ask, and Carol rolls her eyes, laughing lightly.

- It doesn't matter. - she says humorously. You continue riding in silence for a few minutes, then Carol checks her watch. - Well, tell me if you are going to participate or not. I have to be at the meeting point.

Blinking in surprise, you straighten your posture.

- Damn, I didn't know it was this time already. - You comment. - I'm in, of course.

Carol smiles, and leads the way. You slightly speed up the gallop of the horses.

- This is it. - Carol says when you stop in a rather isolated area of the countryside. You thought you were near Saint Denis. - They will come from that direction. Let's wait behind those trees.

Stealing carriages was not a difficult job in general. One just had to be careful that things didn't get out of hand. Fortunately, Carol's contact was precise enough with the number of guards. You fired quickly, giving them no chance to react. And then you noticed the army crest on the carriage and frowned.

- Damn, they were feds? - You exclaimed as you dismounted from your horse, Carol looked as surprised as you were.

- Shit, Alden. - she grumbled. You figured Alden was the name of her contact. - Let's just steal the locker soon, and get out of here.

You nodded, crouching down to feel the carriage vault at the bottom. It didn't take long to find it, and you pulled it to the floor. Using your revolver to break the handle, you let out a hiss as you saw the amount of bills.

- Good job, Miss Danvers. - You joked, counting the money. You divided it into three parts: yours, Carol's, and the Camp's. 

Carol smiled and thanked you, but she continued with that worried look on her face as you mounted again, and rode away.

You were silent for another moment, Carol was strangely thoughtful, so you decided to ask.

- I'm trying to find out if Alden would set me up. - she said, without taking her eyes off the road. - He's not exactly someone who makes enemies. He gives tips for carriage robberies in exchange for a share of the profit.

- Maybe he didn't know. - You comment.

- Yes, I don't think he knew. - She says. - But this is still suspicious. The information he had was that a landowner's carriage was going to pass by. Easy money, few guards. 

- So someone lied about the registration of the trip. - You say, without really caring about it. - Rich people lie all the time. Maybe it is an illegal service. 

- I hope so, kid. - Carol says. - I wouldn't want it to bring trouble.

You nod, and you ride off again in silence. 

It took a while for you to get all the items on Potts' list, but when you finally finished, you stowed the items in the load on your horse, and rode back to camp. Carol was no longer with you, she said she needed to investigate the two families in town, and you waved goodbye.

The camp was quiet, most members were going about their daily chores. You watched Thor demonstrate to Monica how to skin properly, as you passed the hunting wagon, carrying the wrapped items that Potts asked you to buy.

You smiled at Pepper as you handed her the items, and she thanked you by ruffling your hair lightly. 

Looking around the camp, you let out a low grumble, remembering that you had to talk to Wanda. You decided to take a shower first, because even in clean clothes, you still smelled like booze.

- Trouble in paradise? - You tripped in shock while bathing, suddenly hearing a male voice. It was Pietro, who sat on the edge of the lake where you were standing. You had chosen a far corner of the camp to bathe in.

- Hi, Pietro. - You greeted, lathering your own hair again.

- Wanda is pissed off. What happened? - he asks after a moment. You feel your body tense at the mention, but do your best to cover it up.

- We had a disagreement. - You tell. - Actually, I don't really understand what happened.

- Tell me what happened so I know what to say. - He asks with slight amusement in his voice. You roll your eyes.

- Carol and I have had a few more whiskeys than we should have. - You start, and Pietro raises his eyebrows in irony, but you just ignore him. - And then Wanda and Maria came to pick us up in Rhodes.

- Okay, this doesn't seem like a big deal. We already drank more than we should together several times and it never bothered Wanda.  - he comments. And he assumes a thoughtful expression for a moment. - Nothing else has happened?

- I am not sure. She told me that Carol was passed out when they arrived, and that I was being dragged away by a harlot. - You say.

- Sorry, repeat that last part for me, please. - He asked with a mixture of seriousness and humor in his voice.

You frowned, as you repeated the words. It took a minute, and Pietro burst out laughing. You splashed water on him, and he stood up quickly, stepping away.

- She almost punched me when I asked her to switch our chores. - Pietro began, still laughing. - All this because she is jealous.

- What? - You asked in surprise, feeling your heart racing.

- You two are a disaster, I swear. - He commented, as he turned and walked back to the camp.

You spent several minutes trying to understand what happened at the hotel, replaying the interaction you had with Wanda. And then you let out a laugh, feeling your cheeks flush a little. It was funny to think that Wanda was jealous of you, if only she knew how completely in love you were with her, and no one would ever take her place.

Finishing your shower, you put on your clothes and walked towards the campsite, hoping that your girlfriend would be willing to talk to you about it.

Your eyes search for Wanda the very second you enter the tented camp area. You find her at the edge of the lake, away from the rest of the camp, and standing in front of one of the long trees, fishing. You bite your lip to keep from smiling, thinking that she looks absolutely adorable.

You walk beside her, making a noise with your feet so as not to scare her. Wanda turns her head to look at you for a moment, but doesn't smile, turning her attention back to the water.

- Can we talk? - you ask as you stop beside her.

- We are talking. - She replies, still not looking at you. You smile, turning your head to face the water.

- Your brother has an interesting theory. - You begin. - He believes that you are jealous.

Wanda lets out an incredulous laugh, looking at you with irritation. You think she looks pretty.

- Are you trying to irritate me even more? - Wanda says, and you turn to her. 

- Let me show you something. - You ask, offering your hand to Wanda. She rolls her eyes impatiently, throws the fishing rod on the ground, and takes your hand. You smile, but don't take her very far. You pull her gently behind the tree, hiding you from the rest of the camp. You lean your back against the wood as you pull Wanda by the hand to yourself. 

Wanda holds her breath at the proximity, and you smile as you stare at her lips.

- You know, Wanda, you don't have to be jealous. - You whisper, and she blinks in confusion and irritation.

- I’m n...

- Let me finish. - You interrupt with amusement. Wanda shifts her weight from her feet and rolls her eyes, but she doesn't refuse when you place one of her hands on your waist.

- I wanted to show you... - You begin, and use your hands together to guide Wanda's hand down to the level of the buttons on your pants. You feel your heart race, but guide her hand down to your belly, slowly making its way through the fabric of your pants along with the cotton of your panties, until it superficially touches your wet pussy. You both gasp at the contact. - How much I want you. - You close your eyes, bringing your foreheads together. - Nobody makes me feel this way, Wands.

Wanda says nothing for a moment, you feel the tightness in your waist increase. You try not to shiver against her fingers, biting your lips to keep from moaning at feeling her so deeply.

- You'd better not forget that. - Wanda whispers with a mixture of aggressiveness and teasing that makes the spot below your stomach clench. She removes her hand from your pants, and gives you a kiss on the cheek before walking away, leaving you alone, hot and horny against the tree.

[grittyreadsfic]

what’s up, everyone, i accidentally got into my mcstrome feels, so please have this rec list, lovingly crafted and dubbed sometimes a mcstrome fic can be something so personal of a bunch of my favorite mcstrome fics (minus ones i’ve posted about recently, like  burn the straw house down by theundiagnosable and  you have always been my ticket home by iwantthemtostay)

we are the ones (the ones you left behind) by idday

summary: So, like.

Dylan's having a shit year.

(It probably makes him an asshole, the fact that it makes him feel better that Jack is, too. And yet.)

why i love it: something that you don’t see enough in any media, is stories where the fwb/couple fake dating/etc aren’t the endgame. and i think that’s a super overlooked narrative that shows the complexities of human relationships. this fic is a great example of that, and also jack’s characterization? dylan’s complicated feelings towards connor? the way sometimes friendships aren’t easy anymore, but still worth it? all golden

i've never been a natural (all I do is try, try, try) by iwantthemtostay

summary:   In June 2015 Dylan gets drafted fourth overall by the Toronto Maple Leafs, in August his boyfriend breaks up with him. In July 2026 said ex signs with the Leafs. In the months that follow they work things out.

why i love it: you’d think that with my deep hatred for john tavares (life is only suffering when you’re an isles fan who ends up also loving the leafs) that this premise would just make me mad but honestly? it’s perfect. i love how the author kept dylan’s early years as rough, the way we see connor and dylan rebuilding (first their friendship, because that’s what’s most important) and how it’s so realistic, and the way that you get to see all the support systems dylan has in place and the way those dynamics just shine. absolutely wonderful, and there’s a podfic!

our ribs get tough by linebrawl ( @roopehntz​ )

summary: Connor’s face stares him down from a banner two hundred feet tall, and Dylan can’t do this. He can’t be stuck in a city that’d taken everything away from him.

why i love it: god, i just. you ever just find a fic that’s exactly what you’re looking for, like, tone, plot, ship, it’s all what you wanted to read like someone plucked it straight from your brain? that’s how i felt about this fic when it was posted and tbh i’ve probably read it like, six times since then. it’s just so beautifully written and makes me feel so much 

chasing a high, but it was always you, by nolanpatty

summary: Dylan get's traded to the Oilers when the Return to Play is ratified and has to spend the rest of the 2020 season as an Edmonton Oiler, alongside his ex Connor McDavid.

why i love it: listen ! listen !  i love trade fics more than anything else in the world (they’re fun! sometimes they hurt! there’s a lot of narrative potential!) and as a mcstrome fan, the idea of them playing together again? my poor heart can’t take it. i think it’s also one of those fics that does a great job of portraying the way emotions are tricky and complicated and messy and things aren’t always cut and dry.

the timing of you by jamesvanriemsdick ( @jamesvanriemsdick​ )

summary: “I need to let this go,” Dylan says, because he’s known for a few weeks now that he does. It’s pointless, this pining, and he might be in love with Connor, but he’s starting to fall in love with himself, too, and that’s more important, right now.

why i love it: oof. just. this is one of the first mcstrome fics i ever read and it just. struck a chord in me and made me so, so, so emotional. it’s a college au, which i love, and the focus of it isn’t really the romance, but to me, it’s about healing and finding a home for yourself and the families we choose and i’m just. it’s just a lot, and so lovely. 

the next next one by yourblues

summary: No, Dylan has not picked up a copy of the book, nor does he plan to anytime soon. No, he has not talked to Connor about it. He hasn’t talked to Connor about anything in a long time, but the media does not need to know that.

why i love it: personally i think there should be more fics where retired hockey players write autobiographies that are essentially love letters to someone they played with because it’s such a phenomenal premise. this fic is all you could want out of a future mcstrome fic, and it really just exists rent free in my mind always (one time someone posted two of the tags and the word count and i immediately knew they were talking about this fic, which says a lot about how much i’ve read it)

what a life, what a life, you and I, by heartequals (savvygambols) summary: “We’re domestic partners now, that’s basically it,” says Connor.

“Whoa,” says Dylan. “I got married and I wasn’t even paying attention.”

Dylan is assigned a final project with Connor and he catches feelings very quickly about it.

why i love it: college au! idiots to lovers! the over romanization of group projects! (this last one is something so unrealistic but brings me great joy, like coffee shop aus as a former barista) it’s honestly just a sweet fic that warms my little jaded soul and makes me smile every time i read it

[beetlegoose01]

stolen whispers: chapter 1

AN: this fic isn’t a request, it’s a story i’ve been preparing for a lil while and I’m so excited to share this with you all <3

I’ll link it on my Archive if you prefer to read it there. Also warning, there’s quite a few OCs.

Time: 2028 (Scorbus have been married for two years)

Summary: When a new generation of Death Eaters kidnap Scorpius, Albus and Rose put aside their differences to rescue him.

TW: Kidnapping/Language/minor violence

~~~~

Two witches wearing shadowy black robes entered the tavern, finding a table near the back. They ordered their mead, waiting for their third partner impatiently. It was a crowded area, so thankfully there was a small chance they would be overheard.

"We don't want more mead." The first woman growled, tapping her long nails at the table. The bartender, a tall man with a mustache put the drinks down.

"I didn't think so." He lips curled into a grin as he morphed into a younger man with wild dusty brown hair, wearing matching robes. He was handsome, but had an eerie presence to him. Any reasonable person would have at least flinched at the transformation, though neither witch did. "Hello ladies." He grinned cheekily.

"Soren, enough playing games." The second woman said, though she was smirking.

Soren barked out a laugh. "It was funny, Mara. And you know it."

The first woman, Lilith narrowed her eyes. She pulled down her hood, revealing cascading inky black hair down her shoulders. A scar that showed no sign of mending was down her cheek. "Your skills are impressive, but useless if you don't use them for our own gain. Don't forget that." She pulled her hood back.

"Understood." He murmured, taking a seat.

"We have much to discuss," She continued, flicking her wand idly. "Our current plan in action. Our...act of revenge. It's been thirty years since The Tenebris was wrongfully killed. I am sick and tired of his name being tossed around in history like he was some monster. He was on the right side."

"Are you certain we want to call the Dark Lord that?" Mara asked suspiciously.

"Shh! You know if anyone hears us, they'll lock us up for good. For speaking our minds." Lilith said. "It's safer we call him by his code name."

Her companions nodded.

"Because of his loss, we have mudbloods in positions of power. Our siblings that fought for his cause are locked up. Or worse, dead."

Mara and Soren looked grim.

"If we had more allies, perhaps we would have had a chance." Soren noted. "We weren't even alive then but...I have a feeling if we were..."

"Just because we weren't alive then, doesn't mean we don't have opinions over the lives stolen!" Mara argued. "That damn Harry Potter."

"Correct. And Soren is right too. For once. If we had more allies, or better yet...certain allies didn't betray us. The Malfoys for instance." She took a sip of her drink.

"Are you suggesting something?" Mara asked.

"Of course I am, don't be so daft." Lilian said, deadly calm. "I want to make that family suffer for what they did. My uncle Vincent Crabbe died for their selfishness. Draco Malfoy had a chance to save him, and he refused like the coward he is. His mother Narcissa lied to Tenebris' face. They are backstabbing filth that besmirched the Sacred 28. No, it isn't just about their betrayal or avenging those we lost in the war. Think of the big picture. They have the capabilities to join our side. To...respawn a new generation of Death Eaters. But that's not all...

"The Malfoys have lots of gold." She drawled. "Surely, they'll spare a few for us in exchange for something important. Or rather...someone."

"Someone?" Soren paused. "What are you suggesting?"

"Regretfully, Astoria Malfoy has passed on." Mara didn't sound the least bit sympathetic, instead stated it blandly. "So using her as a ransom for Draco is a no go."

"Ah, but there is still someone left." Lillian said, removing a small photograph from her cloak, she slid it across the table.

A young man with platinum hair was pictured, beaming brightly in Healer Robes.

"Scorpius Malfoy."

Soren and Mara exchanged a look of satisfaction.

"Bring him to me."

~~~~~~~~~~

The best thing about mornings, at least to Albus, was waking up beside his husband. The sun's bright rays peaked through the window of their cream colored bedroom, slowly stirring them both awake. If it was up to him, he would stay in their warm bed, arms wrapped around Scorpius until noon.

Scorpius rolled over, so that they were facing each other. His eyes fluttered open, and Albus felt his heart melt at his sapphire eyes.

"Hi." He yawned. His voice was slightly croaky, no doubt from the morning.

Albus replied by nuzzling his nose, then kissed his cheek. "Hi honey."

Scorpius laughed lightly. "Let's get up then. Start the day? It's a Saturday. We have the whole weekend to spend together."

"I'd rather spend it here with you."

Bathilda mewed from the kitchen.

"But our child is hungry." Scorpius teased, stretching as he slid out of bed. Albus begrudgingly slumped after him, not eager to wake up before ten am. But his own stomach was growling too.

"Speaking of children," Albus said, starting to work on their breakfast as Scorpius poured Bathilda's food. "Iris is pregnant again. James told me through a Howler yesterday."

"Really?" Scorpius' eyes widened. "That's great news!"

"Yeah, not for my ears." He commented dryly, still traumatized by James' excited screeching in his ear. "Baby number three." He whistled. "Do you think they're trying to make an entire quidditch team? With Teddy and Vic's lot included, they're on their way."

Though he was joking, Scorpius noticed that Albus was glowing, happy for his brother and sister in law. That was one of the many reasons he loved Albus. His love for his siblings.

"Perhaps. When are they due?"

"September. Which means...that's where they scurried off to last Christmas party." Albus quipped. "To have a little fun."

"Albus!" Scorpius scolded. "Honestly, only you would make a beautiful moment gross."

"It's life, Scorp!" He chuckled. "You're a Healer, you should know these things."

"We'll have to visit. Maybe bring a gift basket to congratulate them." He mused, smiling fondly. "I can't wait to meet our new niece or nephew." There was a wistful look in his eye that Albus caught.

"You've got that look on your face." He noted, amused. He served the plates of bacon sandwiches on the table.

"What do you mean?"

"That Scorpius 'I want something but I'm not going to spell it out for you' face."

"Oh."

"Yes, oh." Albus said, forest green eyes brightening in amusement. "What's up?" He took a seat, tucking into breakfast.

"Well," Scorpius started, staring at his food. "I was thinking..." He stopped himself, hesitant to continue his train of thoughts.

"Yeah?" Albus nudged him gently.

"I want a child." He said, his voice quiet, but firm. "I love my nieces and nephews so much, but they aren't...ours. I want to start a family with you, Albus. Raise a little one of our own to be bright and wonderful and brave and..."

Albus' expression softened. "I do too. You know I do, Scorpius. It's just...difficult right now." He stared at his wedding band. "You know it's harder for us than any hetero couple." He waved his hand vaguely. "Adoption is hard, surrogacy is expensive. Maybe once we settled into our careers more, we can talk about it."

"I think we're ready to go beyond just talking about it, Al."

"We're still young. We've still got time. But...I definitely want to work it out. Somehow, we will. We always do."

Scorpius beamed, reaching to kiss Albus' knuckle. "Thank you." He sat up abruptly. "Oh, I almost forgot- it's the farmer's market today."

Albus snorted. "You're exactly like your dad, you know?"

"Yes yes yes, but we should go!" Scorpius said, levitating the plates to the sink and it automatically was clean due to the floating sponges.

"We? I've got some work to do. I'm not very fond of small talk with old people selling fruit."

"Al, it's really good fruit." Scorpius said seriously. "And it's not all old people. I've seen some of our old schoolmates there."

Albus cringed. "That's even worse."

"Don't be so dramatic. Are you still coming?"

"Mm, but I should really finish this article. Go on without me."

"If you're sure...do you want me to bring anything back?"

Albus thought for a moment. "Those strawberries Ms. Beaker sells. Please? Strawberries and cream sounds so good right now."

"Brilliant, I'm on it." Scorpius did a mock salute.

"Have fun." Al waved as Scorpius appatered, leaving the kitchen empty. Albus went straight to work on his article.

~•~

The market was lively and merry, despite the early hour. Scorpius had stopped by the strawberry stand first, in case he forgot.

Ever since they had moved two years ago, Scorpius had found himself drawn to the quaint farmer's market. Not because of the delicious, fresh food, but to socialize. He made quite a few friends with the muggles who lived around there...mostly old ladies. The early days of their marriage, Albus would join him. Before life got in the way, and work had to be done.

Not that he wasn't busy himself. He only had two days off as a Healer, sometimes less. He didn't know how they would manage childcare, but like Al had said, it was best not to dwell on the future.

"Scorpius? Is that you?"

He turned around, following the voice from behind him. "Polly ...Chapman?" He uttered blandly, praying he wasn't mistaken. He didn't have the best memory- even with old schoolmates who bullied him.

"Yep." Polly said, laughing lightly. "It's me. Been a while."

"It has." Scorpius shifted his weight. "How are things?"

"Great!" She smiled, swishing her blonde ponytail, the same air of confidence from when she was a teenager. "Yann and I are engaged."

"Oh! That's wonderful." Scorpius said, pretending to sound pleased. "Congratulations!"

"Thank you. I proposed to them last month. It was just as I had dreamed."

"How is...Yann?" Scorpius did not actually care how Yann was.

"They're good! Brilliant actually, since they passed Auror training." Polly looked genuinely proud of them, which he had to admit was adorable. "Are you and Albus still..."

"Yes, yes. We um, er- we've been married almost two years actually." He added.

"Aw, that's very sweet. You two were always very close, yeah?" Polly looked at him, and Scorpius nearly walked backwards, intimidated by her stance. She still was extremely scary, like a lioness but with a great sense of fashion. "I know...Yann, Karl and I weren't the best to you two but perhaps we could..." She trailed off. "I'd like you both to come. To the wedding. If you'd like."

That...wasn't what he was expecting. He half expected her to invite him to another Blood Ball.

"Pardon?" Scorpius asked, dumbfounded. "I mean- yeah, that sounds great! Fun! Yes. That sounds nice. I'll bring it up to Al."

Polly was glowing. "Brill! I've got to go, but we should all hang out sometime. Like old times."

Like old times? Scorpius thought. When did they ever hang out?

Nodding mutely, he walked away from Polly with a puzzled, but cheerful expression. He hadn't completely fucked up the conversation, which was always a plus. It still felt odd that Polly Chapman of all people was talking to him, let alone inviting him to her wedding. It was bizarre.

He passed the final vendor, and was surprised and amused to see a tiny girl, no more than seven standing behind it. She had a Brownie uniform on, bright rosy cheeks and pigtails included.

"Would you like a biscuit?" She squealed.

It had taken him a moment to respond, he was still thinking of Polly being kind to him "Oh erm- of course." It was impossible to say no to an adorable small child. He reached for some muggle money, handing her the pound notes. "Just the one box please."

"Okie dokie!" She said, handing him the box. She waited a moment, pouting. "Go on, try it." She urged.

"I really shouldn't I-"

"Please?" The little girl gave him the most pitiful expression. "It's for a good cause, mister. We're helping orphaned puppies find homes."

"Well, alright. For the puppies." He fumbled open the box, taking a polite bite out of the cookie. It was a classic lemon cookie with powdered sugar, one of his favorites. But the second he swallowed, he felt dizzy all of a sudden. "What..." He stumbled back. "Oh my," He gulped, the entire market swirling around him. Something wasn’t right. "is there something in..." 

He would be damned if he let this happen without some sort of fight. Throwing his basket aside, he collapsed, slipping into unconsciousness.

"We've got him."

[ikemensweetheart]

Fireflies Chapter One

A Luka x Reader Story

----------

You grew up next door to the Clemance brothers.

You would consider Jonah your best friend and there was something more between you and Luka.

Some time after Luka leaves Red Territory,  you find yourself trapped in an arranged marriage.

Desperate to escape, you follow his example.

There, fate brings you back together.

But how will this love story play out?

*Author's notes: This took long than I expected to write.

The air was warm and full of music. Lanterns lit up the night as couples danced and laughed together in an open field as crickets joined in the chorus.

A young man sighed, his dark hair gleaming in the light as he watched the dancers from a safe distance away. "Why am I even here?" He asked the violet eyed man sitting next to him at the picnic table.

"Because it's our duty to protect these people, Luka." his companion replied. "We can't do that if we don't form bonds with them and what better way to do that than a party."

Luka blew his bangs out of his face.

Sirius gave him an amused smile. Luka really wasn't one for parties and it showed.

"Hey," he said after a moment. "Let's go get something to drink."

Luka looked up at him skeptically before speaking. "I guess."

Together, the two Black Army officers stood up and walked over to the refreshment table at the edge of the field. 

"Hey, Luka! Sirius!" Fenrir waved to them from a cluster of people near the table. "Finally decided to join the party, I see."

"You look like you're having fun." Sirius commented.

"You betcha." Fenrir replied grinning. 

Just then, Seth came out from among the dancers. "Phew, I'm parched." He declared, walking over to the refreshment table. "Oh, Luka. Are you here to dance?"

"No." Luka said. "I'm just here for a drink." He added, reaching for a cup and then pouring himself some lemonade.

"What?!" Seth exclaimed. "And miss out on spending time with all these lovely ladies?"

"He's right, you gotta live a little, Luka." Fenrir added.

Luka shook his head. "No thanks." He the took a drink from his cup

Seth and Fenrir give each other a conspiracitory look.

They nod and both move to stand behind Luka. "Look, see that group of girls right there? Why don't you go over and ask one of them to dance?" Seth whispered into Luka's ear.

"What? No!" Luka yells as the two of them start pushing him towards the aforementioned group of girls several. feet away from the refreshment table, chatting with one another as they waited for someone to ask them to dance.

Right into a you as you were stepping away from the table.

You yelp as the two of you collide and you go tumbling to the ground.

"Oh no. Are-are you alright?" Luka asks, kneeling down to offer you a hand up.

"Yeah, I'm okay…" Luka freezes as your familiar eyes look up to meet his own golden amber ones.

Your face looks exactly as he remembers, long hair tumbling softly around your shoulders.

You stare at him with the same disbelief he's feeling.

"Luka?" You murmur.

"MC?" He whispers back.

It was you. MC Saint-James. Your family was one of the wealthiest families that didn't hold a rank in the Red Army. Your family's estate had been right next to his. The two of you were the same age, so you had often played together as children.

He hadn't seen you in years, not since he had left for boarding school. You were much more filled out than when he had told you goodbye. You weren't a lanky teenager anymore and you were even prettier than he remembered...

He stared at you, his brain going a thousand miles a minute.

What was he supposed to do? What was he supposed to say? He never dreamed in a million years he would see you again.

The mere sight of you brought old feelings back up to the surface.

"Friend of yours, Luka?" Fenrir asks, stepping up beside him. Interrupting Luka's thoughts.

"Well, um-" Luka's cheeks started to turn red. How was he going to explain this?

"How come you never told us you knew such a pretty lady?!" Seth demands, indignantly. 

Luka's face grew even redder. Meanwhile, you giggled "Well, thank you. I'm MC."

"Seth Hyde, at your service and this is Fenrir."

"Hey." Fenrir says, giving you a dashing smile.

"Alright, that's enough." Sirius cut in before the two of them could get any further. He then turned to you. "Sorry about them. They tend to get a little over zealous. You're not hurt, are you?"

"No, I'm fine. Thank you." You reply, taking the hand he was now offering. "Good." Sirius gives you a small smile as he helps you up. Luka quickly gets to his feet as well. 

Sirius then turns to face Seth and Fenrir, his face becoming serious. "You two with me." 

"What? But Sirius!"

"Things are getting good!" 

"No buts. Come on." Sirius takes the other two by the arms, leaving you and Luka alone at the table.

The two of you stand there awkwardly. Luka nervously shuffles his feet before asking. "What are you doing here? In Black Territory, I mean."

"I live here now."

Luka blinked owlishly. "Oh." His gaze returned to his feet.

There is another pause. The music fades away as another song ends.

"Congratulations." You say suddenly. Luka looks up at you confused. "Hm?"

"I heard you were promoted to Jack of Spades. That's not an easy feat, or so I've been told."

"Ah... Thanks."

You lapse once more into awkward silence.

Luka was about to try to excuse himself when the band started up a lively new song.

Your eyes light up and you look at him. "Do you want to dance?" You ask. Luka's eyes go wide.  "Uuh..."

You break out grinning as you take his hand and lead the way out onto the dance floor. "Come on, Luka!"

'Come on, Luka.' You used to always say that before leading him into some kind of adventure.

You fall into the rhythm of the reel with ease, though it takes Luka a moment to follow the tune was a lot faster tban he was used to, but soon the two of you are spinning, twirling and weaving around the other dancers like it was the most natural thing in the world.

It felt good. It felt good to see your smile again.

When the song ends the two of you collapse on the edge of the field laughing and giggling.

"That was fun." You declare.

"I thought…" Luka said as he struggled to catch his breath. "You hated dancing."

"I hated those stuffy, dull, never-ending parties and the waltzes that went with them." You reply, laying down in the grass. "But not these. These parties are so full of life. It's wonderful"

Luka gave a small chuckle. She hasn't changed. He thought to himself.

Once the two of you caught your breath, you sat back up to see the dancer floor was starting to empty. "I guess it's time to start heading home." You murmured, sounding disappointed.

"Do… Do you want me to walk with you?" Luka asked quietly.

You look over at him, your eyes widening a fraction before you smile at him. "Sure."

"Alright, then." Luka gets to his feet and offers you his hand. You take it and he pulls you up to your feet.

"Which way are we going?" He asks.

"This way." You take the lead, walking away from the lantern light and into the night.

The moon guided your way as the two of you walked down a dirt road. It was quiet other than the sound of the crickets singing among the grass.

Luka had so many questions that he wanted to ask you, but where to start?

"How long have you been in Black Territory?" He finally asks. "About six months now."

That long? "How's your mother?"

Your smile immediately vanished. "She's passed away." Your words barely more than a whisper.

Luka stops dead in his tracks. "Oh…" he breaths. "I'm so sorry." He wished he had something better to say. Your mother had been so kind to him over the years, it hurt to think that she was gone.

You stop too, turning to look at him. "It's okay, I'm just glad she didn't have to witness the fallout between Father and me."

"What do you mean?" He asked as the two of you resumed walking. "Do you remember Andre Montgomery?" You ask in return.

"The scumbag?" The mention of the name had Luka's stomach twisting in disgust.

"Father was pushing for me to marry him." 

Luka found himself skidding to a halt once more. He stared at you in disbelief, mouth agape.

Once again, You stop and turn. There was a sadness to your face, your head drooping slightly. "Pretty much my reaction too. Father wasn't taking no for an answer though. There was no talking any reason into him." You lift your head up and give him a reluctant smile. "At least some good came out of it. I can see you again."

Luka doesn't say anything when you start walking again. 

The two of you go a little ways before he asks: "Have you been settling in alright?" His move into Black Territory had been buffered by boarding school. You coming from the lifestyle you used to live straight away couldn't have been easy for you.

"It's been a challenge, but my new neighbors have been a godsend." He couldn't help but smile. He was glad that you managed to find yourself some good people to help you.

"Have you found a job?" He knew several businesses that would hire you if you didn't.

"Yeah. It's at an adorable little booklender in Central, right across from the park. It's called Callahan's Books."

Luka knew exactly where she was talking about. It was on Seth's patrol route. No wonder he hadn't crossed paths with you until now.

Suddenly, you gasp, pulling him out of his thoughts. "Luka, look."

"What?" He asks when you grab his hand and drag him to the side of the road. "Fireflies."

Sure enough, the meadow along the side of the road was filled with hundreds for fireflies dancing in the night air.

"Remember when we used to sneak out to go watch them?" You ask. "I remember you used to be adamant that they were baby stars." He says.

You stick your lip out in a pout, a light blush dusting your cheeks. "I was six, okay? Give me a break." 

You both look at each other then burst out giggling. "There was always a scolding waiting for us when we got home, but it was worth it."

"Yeah." Luka smiles and nods. "It's getting late." He then says. "Yeah." You reply. "My home isn't much farther ahead."

You sigh, leaving the fireflies to their dance as you made the last stretch of the walk home.

All too soon, you reach a group of cottages clustered together with their neat little fenced in gardens.

You walk up to a cottage that looks slightly shabbier than the rest. "Well," you say. "This is it, home sweet home."

Luka studies it quietly. The siding needed a fresh coat of paint. The fence was in desperate need of mending and weeds were rampant in the garden. Other than that, it looks sturdy. "I mean, it still needs a lot of work, but it's not as bad as when I first moved in." You explain at the fence gate. "I'd invite you in for tea, but it's already so late." You add. Luka smiles at you. "Yeah." He murmurs. "Rain check then?"

He nods and you smile back at him. "Alright. I'll hold you to it. Goodnight, Luka."

"Goodnight, MC." Luka responds as you step into the garden. 

He waits until you've entered the cottage before turning away and making his way back to his own home.

To be continued....

-------

Chapter 2

I hope you all enjoyed! If you like it, please reblog!

Stay safe everyone💕

[blissfulsaturn]

Story time:

I don't know if anyone cares or wants to read this, but I'm gonna tell y'all when and why did i start believing in Charmie. So buckle up, who ever is reading this.

I've been a part of a lot of fandoms and they were usually about movies/TV shows/actors/actresses. I've always been a shipper of characters and not actors, I'd search their pictures by their character's names, read and write fanfics about the characters, i did everything that involved just their characters. Example : i used to ship Stiles and Derek from Teen Wolf, just them, not Dylan O'Brien or Tyler Hoechlin, same thing with the Maze runner, i shipped Newt and Thomas, and now Thomas Brodie Sanger and Dylan O' Brien (oh Dylan...lol) etc.

And then i saw Call me by your name, and i was shipping (still do) Elio and Oliver, but there was something more to it, i couldn't wrap my finger around it, something was missing, like it wasn't enough that it was just them. So i went online and watched all the interviews with Timothée and Armie.

Honestly, something you need to know about me, i was never involved in a private life of a celebrity or knew all this PR, Hollywood, fake relationships shit until i came here on Tumblr. So when i watched the interviews i was like "Aww they're such good friends, they're really close if they talk like that and touch each other like that, if they compliment each other like that etc", because i was like "You can't ship two actors, are you insane?? Armie's happily married with two kids, his wife looks good (on photoshopped pics, i never zoomed in her eyes and jaw), and Timmy's definitely straight and all that bs."

So time goes by, and I'm still shipping just Elio and Oliver, and Armie and Timothée like bros and good friends (that rolled around naked on bed, and made out for 10+ minutes).

And then TIFF happened and that was a breaking point for me. Even before TIFF when Timmy showed up after being a ghost for 6 months, and he showed up for Armie Hammer. That kind of spiked in my book, that was the first time i gave myself a permission to believe there's more to it than just friends. And then the TIFF hug and everything that happened at TIFF.

So i joined Tumblr and realized i wasn't the only one with that opinion, it was good but still wasn't enough for me. Now, I've seen Charmie being spread around and never really took it seriously, like i saw them as nothing but friends. But that hug, that hug was...everything to me. I'd think of Armie being married and then the hug, I'd think Timmy's probably straight, and then the hug. The TIFF hug undid all the doubts i had of them being just friends.

Then SSIFF happened and the rumor about Tim going to dinner with LRD and then his eyes, those sad eyes, he wasn't sick, we've seen him being sick, it wasn't the same. No, those eyes were pure sadness and anxiety, and i remember seeing him like that and all I wanted to do is fly over to Spain to hug him for whatever reason.

Fast forward to the first Central Park picture of Tim and Lily.

That's when i got very suspicious. Okay, they were at TIFF and SSIFF, there was no interaction, that rumor of them going to the same dinner was just a rumor until the black and white picture came out months later (where Timmy looked like he was holding some sort of guard), how come this relationship just sparked out of nowhere? (Lily was on the set for 2 weeks, no time to fall in love) Then Mud happened, then those pictures from the rain, then those from Central Park, and all the gossips and rumors and made up stories...everything was so suspicious to me. So i log onto Tumblr again and saw all the theories and i tried to develop my very own.

If Charmie was just a fantasy, and it was made up by couple of people on the internet, then it shouldn't bother anybody, because it was just a fantasy, and this relationship began so close to the TIFF hug that got me thinking "What if it's not just a fantasy but something real, and they're covering something up?". Because, let's face it, not in a millions of years would I ever put Timmy and Lily together in a relationship. He was Tim, and she was very problematic (from family to drugs, lbr). It got me to question either Timmy and his choice of women, or his PR team (I learned that here). But Timmy went on being his perky self and this relationship just stunk to the core.

And from that point on, everything was smooth sailing.

Maybe I've gotten far into something I shouldn't have, but the point is, the reason why i started to believe in Charmie is because of the fake relationship. It was too close to them being publicly affectionate and too far from thinking Tim would really fall for a woman like that. I'm sure Lily's okay in a closed room alone, but in public, i don't like her very much and it has nothing to do with Tim, or me being a jealous person that wants Tim all for myself (he's not my type), i wouldn't follow someone like her and her insights in the world. Simple as that.

After that, i turned the film around and realized that they've probably been "together" since CMBYN promo or so. The fact that "friendship" like Tim's and Armie's had to be covered by a fake girlfriend and a wife that was rather a control freak, then i got my thoughts straight.

Now i know what we say about Tim and Lily, and Armie and Liz, they could all be legit and really in love and happy, but...i just don't see it. And i know what we say about Tim and Armie could be false, or it could be true, we're just speculating, but my God, when all the pieces are put together, when all the videos of them gawking at each other, their body language, their eyes and compliments, just them being them...it's hard to see them as just friends and co-stars. They went through something when they were filming CMBYN, and I seriously doubt they stopped at that. I think this movie awoke something in both of them and they deepened the bond and it got them where they are now.

So, thank you PR teams for making me believe in Charmie, you did a shitty job and each time you screw up a bit, I believe in them even more, because the more you try to cover something up, the more real it gets for me. And it's not just them, it's the entire picture, this is very simple and people with logical thinking can see it also.

Conclusion : I am a Charmie, i love and support both Armie and Timmy separately and together, i don't like Lily and i think Liz is very...something. No hate, this is just my opinion on all this.

Have a great day, sorry for the long post, here's some Charmie love.❤️

[notbecauseofvictories]

do you have any Thoughts on Tom Riddle and Ginny Weasley? bc I reread HP recently and I've been thinking about it A Lot

Even now you are not sure if it counts as a first kiss. If he was only some shard of a soul, an after-image pressed between the pages of an old diary like dried flowers, then no. No, of course not. But you remember the brush of his lips against yours, dry as paper, tasting of ink, and—

//

Something you don’t tell Harry: Tom Riddle came to you sometimes. In nightmares, in shadows you caught out the corner of your eye. Harry has seen memories in a Pensieve (he’ll tell you that, later) but when he starts talking about a dark-haired handsome boy, a charming smile and dead eyes, you are already nodding. It takes everything you have to bite your lip and not say: yes, I know. I saw him in every mirror, still water, and in dreams. 

(When you are living out of rooms of requirement, that exist because you need them; dodging ex-classmates and listening desperately to the wireless for any sign of life from the people you love….then you will wonder if He ever looked back. If there is any part of Tom—Voldemort—or his splintered, mangled soul, that remembers what it was to live in Ginny Weasley’s skin. If he avoids Hogwarts because of Harry or because of you, or some other, third reason. Maybe every lost, angry child comes to Hogwarts with that same frantic desire to protect it apart from all else. You wish you knew.)

You’d liked him, is the awful truth. Sometimes—in your less kind, less generous moments, which you aren’t willing to tell Harry about—you wonder if it would have been better to hate him. To look at Tom from the first and know that there was evil hiding behind a pretty mask; that the kindness was nothing but poisoned honey. Harry talks about Dumbledore’s surety, born of the first moment  meeting that sad, maniacal orphan, and you almost envy him.

As it stands, you were twelve and Tom Riddle at least pretended kindness, feigned listening, petted your hair even though he was a creation of ink and desperation and old dark magic. Trying to separate out those feelings from the monstrosity is hard. It is. You are not sure you ever accomplish it.

//

If you had been a boy, Tom Riddle said once, with a studied sort of disinterest, you would have been a seventh son of a seventh son. There’s power in that.

I know, you had answered, because you do. 

(You never told Tom—Tom with his feigned casualness and his artificial kindness, the cold, sharp gears of his mind turned over behind his eyes—that you had pictured him. Gerald Weasley, the seventh son of the seventh son. All the weaknesses he wouldn’t have to guess and second-guess, because they would be him instead of girlhood.

You didn’t think Tom, with his stern and handsome profile, heir of Slytherin who strode the length of your rooms with his chin stuck out, would understand.)

//

He said, open your eyes, so you did.

//

It’s Hermoine who asks, which you wouldn’t have guessed. For all her fearsome intellect, Hermoine strikes you as too much like Tom—a mind that’s all uncompromising edges, like a blade, everything unnecessary shed away. (According to Ron, Hermione once set Professor Snape’s robes on fire and never got in trouble for it. Fred and George wish.) But it’s Hermione, fourteen and awkward, not-quite-hips and uncontrollable hair as she gets ready for the Yule Ball, who meets your gaze in the mirror and asks:

Do you ever think about second year?

You swallow, try to smile. You are twelve and weedy, still—that transitional period between puppy fat and curves, where you look like an underfed plant grown in the dark, but with freckles. You feel strange in your body, which is….normal, supposedly, either because you are A Young Woman or because a couple years ago some nascent part of the Dark Lord took possession of your skin and tried to murder people with it. It’s not clear which.

Hermione is still looking at you in the mirror, her dark eyes shining.

Yes, you tell her. First year, for me. I think about it sometimes.

What do you think about?

Hermione is sincere, which even then you don’t know what to do with. You will never know what to do with her strange flashes of softness. When she breaks with that uncompromising straight line of logic. You spent too much time with Tom, maybe—you never learned what to do with a person who was a pitiless mind married to a tender heart. (He didn’t think they existed.)

I think about fruit, you tell Hermione. It has the benefit of being true. Then: He thought a lot about fruit.

Fruit? Hermione asks.

He didn’t have it, you say, reciting by rote at this point. This is a familiar refrain, as much a bedtime story as the Wizard and the Hopping Pot. They were—it was a war. Fruit was so rare, rationed—do you know what that means, ‘rationed’? They couldn’t get it, except sometimes or under special circumstances. He thought about oranges and lemons and even apples. He thought about—why are you looking at me that way? you ask.

Hermione shakes her head. She is very pale, almost grey. You’re telling a Muggle story, she says. This is a story about—

No, you answer, shaking your head even though it disturbs the careful straightness of your hair, the deliberate curls; Parvati worked so hard. This is a story about Lord Voldemort.

You stare at one another in the mirror until Katie Bell bursts in wailing about her flowers, and then the moment is broken.

//

He said, tilt your face up to me, and then he kissed your child’s mouth and made it something else, just by kissing it. His mouth tasted like parchment and the spill of an inkwell, and that was your first kiss. A book who was also a man who was the heart of evil kissed you. You are never the same afterwards—not a seventh son of a seventh son, but a daughter with a mouthful of printer’s ink, a girl with a steady longing for pears and limes and white sugar.

A hundred years later and maybe more, Harry says to you, He was—

and you finish: Yes. I know.

//

You have so many questions you would ask of him, if you could. 

(Not—the Dark Lord, not Voldemort, but Tom, who you suspect is somewhere within him, struggling to leap from his chest like a bird’s wings against a high window.)

You never get the chance.

[jilliancares]

Yo I was looking through all the fics I've read and I wanted to re-read 'The King's Quest' but I realised it was a patreon reward and was never posted. I was wondering if there is anywhere that I can find it?

I finally went and looked through my documents and found it! I’ll post it here!

The King’s Quest - 5k - a short, original wlw fiction story wherein the main character sets off to find the king’s missing crown, seeing as the one who accomplishes this task gets to marry the princess

“I don’t know why I go along with your plans,” Milo complained, hiking the (second) bag on his back higher. He’d offered to carry Jaz’s bag a mile back and had decided their mission was doomed ever since.

“Because you have nothing better to do,” Jaz answered honestly, and Milo made a sound in the back of his throat that was half agreement and half offense. It was true, though. Summer had come to their kingdom and without jobs or the responsibility of school, they had all the free time in the world.

They came from a small town — one small enough that there weren’t very many other kids their age — so if Milo had decided to stay while Jaz went on this adventure on her own, he would’ve been very much bored and alone for the summer. As it was, he tended to follow in Jaz’s footsteps, which led to grand adventures like this one (and less grand adventures, like their too frequent visits to the principal’s office). It wasn’t that Jaz liked making and getting in trouble, it was that she had grand plans for life, and not much could get in the way of her plans.

Examples of these grand plans included stealing Old Man Johnson’s pig, convincing Milo to shave his head, and marrying Princess Amelia. It wasn’t her fault that her plans tended to occasionally have disastrous results. Sure, Old Man Johnson had tried to have them arrested, and sure, Milo was still recovering from that stint with a pair of scissors, but what really mattered was that they’d had fun. Or at least, Jaz had.

Still, Jaz could admit this adventure was turning out to be less fun than she’d been anticipating. When the King had put out the royal order announcing that the first person to retrieve his royal (but stolen) crown would be able to marry his daughter, Jaz had jumped to attention with the beginnings of an adventure swirling through her brain. She’d imagined daring stakes and dangerous terrains and dueling masked strangers, and so far all she’d gotten was a long trek up a longer hill with a best friend who wouldn’t stop complaining.

Granted, he was carrying her bag, but he’d offered to do that. It wasn’t her fault that he had some misguided sense of chivalry. It’d been days since they’d left their hometown and Jaz had had a fine time of carrying her own bag all that time, but the moment they’d reached the base of the mountain Milo had puffed up his chest and claimed it was his pride on the line.

“Just give me my bag back,” Jaz insisted, turning around and walking up the path backwards, arm extended and fingers wiggling in Milo’s direction. She could see the want in his eyes, the desire to rid himself of the extra weight and make this unbearable climb slightly more bearable.

“No,” he ended up saying, hands coming up to cling to the straps on his shoulders. “I’m fine.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re —” Jaz cut herself off. Or, more accurately, the knife pressed against her throat, held by the person who Jaz currently had her back pressed against, cut her off. It was common instinct to shut the fuck up when an armed stranger had your life in their hands. Pretty hands, at that. Were those fingers manicured?

“Let’s all just calm down!” Milo shouted, eyes wide with panic as he flung his arms in the air in the universal sign of, I mean you no harm, please don’t slit my best friend’s throat. Unfortunately, the momentum of his arms flying into the air combined with the weight of two bags situated on his back overbalanced him, and he fell backwards and started tumbling down the mountain.

“Milo!” Jaz shouted, because even with a knife at your throat there was something scary about watching your best friend tumble head over feet down a steep and rocky slope. He slowed a few yards down from them, sliding sideways down the path, and let out a loud groan that assured Jaz his pride was hurt more than his body.

“Wow, I totally didn’t need to threaten you guys,” the potential-murderer said, and she released Jaz, spinning her dagger in her hand and tucking it into her belt. Milo was climbing back to his feed, slumping back up to where Jaz and the yet-to-be-a-murderer stood.

“Oh, good,” he panted, smiling weakly at the two of them. “You’ve worked out your differences.”

With Milo back at her side and a knife no longer at her throat, Jaz felt secure enough to examine her would-be murderer. Her nails were manicured, though that was hardly the only put-together thing about her. Her long hair was pinned up into an elegant bun atop her head, and her traveling clothes didn’t appear to have even a speck of dirt on them; meanwhile Jaz and Milo were covered from head to toe in dust. (Milo more-so, having just tumbled down the mountain.)

“Do you try to kill every traveler you see or was just there something special about us?” Jaz questioned. She couldn’t decide whether this girl was still a threat. Sure, her knife was put away, but how could anyone look so refined under a midday summer’s sun?

“I heard you two arguing,” the girl said with a shrug. “I assumed you’d be a couple more idiots on the King’s Quest.”

“And you think we’re not because…?” Milo said unhelpfully. If this girl only attacked idiots on the Quest then they’d better pretend they were a couple idiots on an afternoon hike!

“Well, you’re clearly not up to the task,” the girl laughed. “Sorry for having mistaken you.”

And, okay, this was probably why Jaz got in trouble all the time. She had a couple issues with things such as ‘holding her tongue’ and ‘keeping her temper,’ so it was with an indignant scoff that she responded to the girl, “What makes you think that?”

The girl blinked, surprised. Then she waved a hand at them, gesturing to them in general. Even Milo made an offended sound.

“I’ll have you know that we are on the King’s Quest!” Jaz snapped, leaning forward to get into the girl’s face. Probably not the best idea, considering she had a knife and possibly the devil on her side, seeing as she must’ve sold her soul to be looking like this in the middle of nowhere. “And we’re gonna find the crown first and I’m gonna marry the Princess!”

With that, Jaz stomped past the girl and further up the path, Milo scurrying along behind her, the weight of the bags forgotten. It made sense that this girl, some sort of soul-selling, mountain-guarding asshole, would’ve found a lot of people on the King’s Quest by hiding up in this mountain. It was the one path that crossed from the eastern half of the kingdom to the western half, and the town on the other side was home to a colony of secret-sellers. Anyone could learn anything there, so long as they had something the secret-keepers would want. It was this town that was Jaz’s current destination. There, she would barter for the last known location of the crown, and then she’d be off again, one step closer to marrying the princess.

“Wait!” the girl yelled, and it was instinct that made Jaz grab Milo’s wrist and start booking it up the last stretch of the mountain. In her mind’s eye, the girl was chasing after them, her knife held out and ready to stab their retreating backs.

“We’re gonna die, we’re gonna die, we’re gonna die —” Milo was panting. Jaz glanced over at him to see that his eyes were squinched shut.

“Open your eyes!” she yelled at him.

“I don’t want to!” he burst out, all in one breath, and Jaz groaned, cursing her best friend and chancing a glance over her shoulder, possibly one of the last over-the-shoulder-glances she would ever have.

She was right in that the girl was chasing them, except she wasn’t carrying her knife, and her hair had escaped it’s updo and was falling around her red face as she chased after them. It was this (the hair, not the absense of the knife) that finally persuaded Jaz to stop. This girl was human after all.

“Why are we stopping?!” Milo demanded, because Jaz was still holding onto his wrist and he’d stumbled to a stop immediately after she had.

“I don’t think we’re about to get murdered,” Jaz said.“Famous last words,” Milo said darkly, moments before the girl caught up to them and bent over her knees, breathing heavily.

“God,” she said, her voice thin and breathless. “Never make me run up a mountain again.” And then, once she’d caught her breath and stood up straight, she smiled. “I want to join you,” she said.

Jaz considered it. “No.”

“Wha — why not!?”

Counting off her fingers, Jaz said, “You held a knife to my throat, said we ‘weren’t up to the task,’ and I’m going to marry the Princess.”

“What does that last one have to do with me?”

“If you find the crown first, you could try to steal my future wife. I can’t risk that,” Jaz scoffed, her tone obvious. Milo was nodding importantly.

“What about him?” the girl said, gesturing to Milo.

“Uh-uh,” Milo said loudly, shaking his head. “I want nothing to do with the Princess. I’m just here as moral support.”

“Well, I want nothing to do with the Princess either,” the girl said haughtily. “After you marry her, you could give me some gold or something. That’ll be my compensation.”

Jaz considered it again. This girl did have a knife, which she seemed pretty skilled with, and maybe she’d sold enough of her soul for Jaz to look even half as clean as she did. “Fine,” Jaz said, still eyeing the stranger carefully. “You can come with us.” She extended her hand. “I’m Jaz. Short for Jasmine.”

“Nice to meet you, Jasmine,” said the girl.

“No,” Jaz said. “Short for Jasmine. I’m Jaz.”

“Right, right. And I’m Millie.” The girl — Millie — nodded her head as she said this, shaking Jaz’s hand.

“Milo,” Milo interrupted, turning their handshake into a hand pile, which he then shook up and down.

With introductions finished and knives still yet to be buried in anyone’s skin, they were off. Having run up the mountain, a good amount of the climb was behind them, and before they knew it they were cresting the peak, able to see the town below.

“So what’s our plan?” Millie asked. It was strange, how quickly they became a ‘we’ instead of an ‘us and the scary girl with the knife.’

“We go there,” Jaz explained, pointing to the town below them. “We’re gonna barter for information of the crown’s whereabouts.”

“All right, all right, yeah. Good plan. Except I already know where the crown is.”

Both Jaz and Milo turned to look at Millie in shock. For what probably shouldn’t have been the first time, Jaz wondered, who is this girl?

“Um,” said Milo. “How?”

“I already bartered for it,” she said, gesturing towards the town with a jerk of her head. “Real stingey, the secret-keepers. I almost thought I wouldn’t have anything they’d want.”

“What’d you give them?” Jaz asked incredulously. She was aware that she didn’t have much to offer herself, but she’d already been coming up with plans in her mind as to how she might buy a secret anyway. She was thinking of promising them gold if — (when) — she found the crown and married the Princess, or something like offering to be their servant for a year otherwise. It wasn’t ideal, but she was desperate and information was scarce. And yet in swoops Millie, the immaculate Fixer of All Problems. How the hell does that happen?

“Oh — just, you know. Some jewelry,” Millie answered unhelpfully. Jaz squinted at her distrustfully. Milo cheered.

“One less step for us!” he said excitedly, immediately throwing both his and Jaz’s bags to the ground. “I vote we take a break.” Before Jaz could protest, could claim that they should head off now if they really wanted to be the first ones to find the crown, Millie joined Milo on the ground.

“Perfect,” she said, sitting prim and proper and folding her hands in her lap. “I was starting to get a cramp.”

Very quickly, Jaz was learning that Millie was not the best travel companion. Unlike Milo, who always let Jaz be the leader of their little duo, she challenged Jaz’s directions and made suggestions of her own. Granted, sometimes these suggestions turned out to be better than Jaz’s ideas in the first place, but she still didn’t much like the feeling of being challenged.

Not to mention the fact that Millie was so secretive. Every night when they built a fire and gathered around it and ate whatever provisions they had for dinner, they talked. Conversation strayed and laughter rung freely, but whenever any kind of personal question was directed Millie’s way she closed right up. She didn’t seem to want to talk about her past or her home or herself. It was starting to get old, in Jaz’s opinion. She hated the way their conversations stuttered to an awkward stop, right at Millie’s feet.

Possibly the worst thing about her, though, was the fact that she thought the King’s Quest was stupid. And they were on the King’s Quest!

“I just think it’s derogatory,” Millie went on pompously. They’d left the terrain of the mountain and everything neighboring it days ago. Now, they were stomping through a forest in what was supposedly the fastest way towards the crown. Except the forest was giving way to swampland and Jaz could feel her feet sinking and squelching with every step. Her mood was already low enough, what with this horrible and uncomfortable part of their journey, and she certainly didn’t need Millie going on about how the King’s Quest was derogatory. Especially not when she never seemed to sink into the mud herself, picking her way across the land on somehow only the parts that didn’t sink.

“I think you’re derogatory,” Jaz muttered under her breath, but Millie didn’t hear her. Milo was some yards ahead of them, covered in mud up to his knees.

“I think the ground’s getting more stable over here!” he called back excitedly, waving as if they weren’t able to see him as easily as he could see them. He then took another step forward and sank up to his waist. “Mmm, just kidding!”

Millie continued on as if none of this had happened. “I mean, think about it. Everyone’s just trying to marry the Princess without knowing anything about her. They just want gold or jewels or power, Jasmine.”

“It’s Jaz,” Jaz bit out. Scratch everything she’d said before — the worst thing about Millie was the fact that she couldn’t seem to get Jaz’s name right. “And you’re the one who wanted compensation in gold,” Jaz pointed out. “I want her undying love and affection.”

Millie rolled her eyes, which Jaz didn’t fail to see. She pointed a finger at Millie. “You’re wrong,” she said. “Sure, I bet some people are just in it for the money or whatever, but that doesn’t mean everyone is. Some of us have been waiting all our lives to meet the Princess. Some of us have read every single one of her interviews. Some of us have even donated to all the charities she’s founded.”

Millie raised an eyebrow. “Well now you’re just talking about yourself, aren’t you?”

Jaz blushed. “She’s a great person,” she enthused. “We’re soulmates — which she’ll realize the second she meets me.” With a sigh, Jaz let her mind wander, imagining carrying the crown up the castle’s steps, the King weeping gratefully at her feet, Princess Amelia crying my hero! when she saw her.

“Well let’s just hope you are the one to find it,” Millie said with a huff. “Otherwise some creep might end up marrying the Princess.”

Jaz glared at the other girl. “I will fight any and all creeps that try to get in the way of me and the Princess.”

Milo, still stuck in the mud up to his waist, finally called out for help.

It took another good hour of slumming through the swamp until they were finally on solid ground again, and practically the rest of the afternoon of trudging through yet more forest before they were emerging into another unimpressive field. Honestly, Jaz had been expecting this journey to the crown to be a bit more exciting. They’d yet to pass through a single town, all their travels being through useless, obscure places.

“Where did you say this crown was again?” Jaz demanded, arms crossed as she surveyed the disgusting amount of endless field before them. She was tired of walking. She was tired of there not being any paths. She was tired of not having the crown in her hands.

“Oh it’s — in that direction,” Millie said, pointing her finger across the field.

“Yeah, but what’s this place called?”

“It’s… too hard to pronounce,” Millie said, avoiding eye contact, and Jaz grit her teeth in anger. She was suddenly and viciously confident that Millie was lying to her. Every time they’d asked her where they were going, she’d avoided answering in the way Jaz wanted, avoiding giving this place they were apparently going to a name.

“Spell it out, I’m great at pronouncing things,” Milo suggested happily.

“I don’t know how to spell it,” Millie answered, and Jaz was sure. This girl was a liar. Jaz had been an idiot to trust her, a random person squatting in the mountains and threatening adventurers with knives.

“Oh, well,” Jaz said lightly, uncharacteristically dropping it. “We’ll get there when we get there, whatever this place is.” Millie smiled gratefully, agreeing, and Jaz plastered the biggest and fakest smile onto her face in return.

She spent that whole evening stewing in her anger. She made idle chit-chat during dinner and helped set up their camp afterwards, spreading their sleeping bags out in the field. Except she didn’t sleep. She laid there, letting time pass her by as Milo and Millie dropped off, their breaths evening and becoming slow and steady around her. And then she made her move.

Jaz climbed out of her sleeping bag, cringing with every crinkle of the material and crunch of the leaves and grasses around her, and tiptoed to Millie’s bag. It was a nice bag, much nicer than Jaz and Milo’s, and it was with apprehension that Jaz opened it. She had no idea what she would find inside, but she was kind of imagining an array of weapons or a severed head or something.

Instead, she found clothes, a few bags of nuts and berries, and a crown. Jaz’s thought process was something like, yep, yep, okay, sure. A crown. Nice.

And then her heart was shooting up into her throat, surely beating loudly enough to wake both Milo and Millie, because WHAT? Millie had the crown?! She’d had it all along?! What the hell was going on?

Jaz was a mix of emotions, all tangled and confusing inside her. Anger and betrayal warred in her stomach. Despite everything, she’d actually grown to like Millie. She’d started to consider her a friend, had even enjoyed her company when she wasn’t being annoying, and now she felt betrayed. Millie was up to something. Maybe something evil.

Part of Jaz — a huge part, to be honest — wanted to grab the crown, wake Milo, and book it. It was the kind of betrayal Millie deserved, after leading them on whatever wild goose chase this was. But the rest of Jaz wanted answers. She wanted to know why. And it was because of this part of her — curse her stubborn love for dramatics! — that she yanked the crown out of the bag, stood upright, and demanded, “What the hell, Millie?!”

Millie woke up immediately. As did Milo, with an unrefined, “Wha — !?”

It was obvious to see Millie’s panic as her gaze shot from the crown to Jaz’s face and back again.

“Oh my God!” Milo suddenly burst out. “You found the crown!” And then, almost as an afterthought, “Am I dreaming?”

“No, Milo, you’re not dreaming,” Jaz said shortly. “Millie tricked us. She had the crown all along.”

“It’s not what you think,” Millie said immediately, pleadingly, and Jaz scoffed.

“What was the point of all this?” she asked. “Why even get Milo and me to come with you in the first place? Where were you even taking us?”

“To the castle!” Millie said, sounding desperate now. She gestured into the distance, the same direction they’d been headed, but Jaz wasn’t sure she believed her. It wasn’t like she knew the kingdom very well, especially on the ground instead of looking down at a map.

“A likely story,” Jaz scoffed. “And just what —” she was interrupted by the sound of people crashing through the forest, only a small ways from where their camp was set up.

“Get down!” Millie suddenly said, her voice a whisper-shout. Jaz didn’t feel very inclined to listen to a liar, but Millie shot to her feet and pulled Jaz to the ground just in time, hiding the two of them in the midst of all the tall grasses of the field.

Milo was only a little ways from them, but his eyes were wide and he looked worried. Millie gestured for him to stay where he was, before putting a finger to her lips. She was a liar. She’d had the crown all along. But still, Jaz couldn’t help but trust her in that moment, when the far-off voices were becoming less far-off, growing louder and angrier the closer they got.

“I heard voices, I swear!” one person — a man, it sounded like — growled.

“Then where are they?” another person asked.

“Probably in the field somewhere,” another answered.

Then came the sounds of three pairs of footsteps stomping through the field. And with the sound of their footsteps, the unmistakable clink of — armor? But who would wear armor other than the King’s Guard?

“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” one man sang. Jaz could hear their footsteps getting louder. Millie looked frightened.

When the men got so close Jaz was afraid they were in danger of getting stepped on, Millie seemed to brace herself before standing straight up. Jaz, despite her earlier anger at Millie, followed, jumping up and stepping in front of her, for some reason. Probably because she was brave. Super brave.

Milo, because he’d always been a good follower, followed. He, too, jumped to his feet, and he fought and struggled through weeds clinging to his feet to stand beside Jaz, also in front of Millie.

And Jaz wasn’t afraid to say that she was kind of in shock. Before her were three, fully outfitted members of the King’s Guard, equipped with armor and swords and the whole shebang. Just what was going on?

“Step away from the Princess,” one man said, glowering at them, and all the thoughts dropped out of Jaz’s head. For a second, she thought incredulously, who?

And then: “Stand down.” It was Millie who said it, and for some weird reason, the guards listened to her. They stepped back and stopped looking quite so terrifying.

“Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait,” Milo said, but Jaz refused to let him come to the realization before she did. It was because of this that she turned around, gaping at Millie.

“You’re the Princess?!” she spluttered, and Millie — Princess Amelia — smiled a guilty little smile.

“Surprise?”

“You’re to return to the castle at once, Princess,” one of the guards spoke up. “Your father orders it.”

Millie crossed her arms. “They’re coming with me,” she said, gesturing to Jaz and Milo. Oh, great, Jaz thought. We’re getting arrested.

“Princess —”

“They found the crown,” Millie said sternly.

“You stole the crown!” one of the guards burst out angrily. Millie just stuck her nose up, looking off to the side.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said.

Jaz, who was in a state of shock so severe she was considering sitting down, looked at Milo. He appeared to be feeling similarly, and as she watched, he continually mouthed the word ‘Princess?’ to himself.

Jaz became aware of the voices still talking somewhere around her and had to force herself to tune back in. “— found the crown fair and square, so it’ll be her that I marry. That is, if she agrees?”

Millie was looking at Jaz expectantly and Jaz scrambled to keep up, to remember what they were talking about, and — oh. OH.

“Oh! Yeah, yeah I agree, um. Yeah.” Jaz couldn’t help remembering how she’d ranted to Millie — the Princess! — about how great the Princess was. God, this was twisted. And embarrassing. She was never going to live this down.

Then, past the layers of embarrassment and confusion and general slow, jelly-like thoughts, Jaz realized her heart was pounding away with excitement. She was marrying the Princess. Sure, it’s what she’d set out to do, but so rarely did her plans go anything other than awry.

And Jaz, because she never admitted to her mistakes if she could help it, turned to Milo with a smirk. “I told you this plan was a great one.”

Milo scoffed, throwing his hands into the air. “You didn’t even find the crown! It found you!” he protested, but Jaz wasn’t listening. She was too busy thinking of the future, of long afternoons spent in the castle’s gardens and even longer nights spent dragging Millie through the city’s streets in search of a real adventure.

[softmintmochi]

Genre: Angst

Summary: The biggest day of your life is finally here. You've never been happier in your life. Everyone important in your life is here, glad that you're happy.

Jimin's POV

I sigh deeply as I steady myself, my nerves making me feel on edge. Today is the day. Surrounded by my friends, I feel a sense of security. "Are you nervous, Jimin?" Seokjin pats my back soothingly, and I smile up at him. "Of course I'm nervous. What if I do something wrong? Say something wrong?" I ask, my fingers fumbling with my tie. I groan in frustration, and Seokjin takes over for me, tying it perfectly. "You're gonna be fine. We're all going to be there standing right next to you." He assures me. "Yeah, you've got nothing to worry about. Here, maybe this will calm you down." Yoongi says, handing me a flask. I gladly accept it, taking a swig and letting the liquid burn my throat. The door swings open, Namjoon smiling brightly as he raises his hands him the air. "Alright guys, it's time! Let's go get married!" He declares.

The venue is beautiful. I've seen it in pictures about a million times, but pictures can't even begin to compare to the real thing. A spring wedding in the forest. That's always been her dream. She's been planning this since she was a little girl. The trees towered over us, giving us nice shade from the sun's rays. Rows of cushioned seats decorated in lavender ribbon were lined up, facing the alter, which was also laced in ribbon, also pale pink roses poking out. It was absolutely perfect. I walk around, greeting people, ushering people to their seats, waiting anxiously for it to begin. I check my watch, and it's 20 minutes until it starts. I make sure everyone is seated and as soon as they are, I take my place up at the alter, all of my friends around me. I take a deep breath, trying my best to calm myself. It's time.

The music plays, and the doors of the building open. Taehyung rubs my arm that's hidden from view soothingly, trying to calm me down. Everyone turns as she appears, her father locking arms with her as he guides her. Her beautiful fingers wrap around the bouquet of pale pink roses, her veil draped over her face. Even with the veil hiding her, I can still tell she looks absolutely amazing. She always does, of course, but this is a day I've imagined repeatedly, and she looks even more stunning than I could've ever dreamed. The closer she gets, the more nervous I get. My foot taps unconsciously, my fingers fiddling in front of me. She looks at me, smiling before she kisses her father on the cheek, taking her place up on the alter. Her veil is lifted, and I can feel tears pricking my eyes. She's definitely more gorgeous than I could've ever dreamed of. She's perfect.

I remember the first time I saw her. We were just kids, and she sat in my table group, and I would always tug on her hair or tease her. Whenever I did something to her she'd do something right back, and that set they basis of our relationship. For years we teased each other back and forth, and the older we got, I realized my feelings for her. She would always tell me about what she wanted her wedding to be like, and I always promised her I'd make it happen. Even though I knew I loved her, I was always too nervous to tell her. It wasn't until we were 16 that I finally kissed her, and it was the best day of my life. After that happened, we talked about where we stood, our relationship, and how things would play out from then on. A few weeks later I introduced her to my other friends, and she got along with them really well. Maybe if I didn't introduce them, it would've been me standing on that alter with her.

The day after we kissed she came over to my house, sat down on my bed like any other day after school, but she seemed tense, a bit awkward. "Jimin..." She speaks softly, looking down at my floor, and I start to worry. "About last night, I-I don't think it should've happened." Her words are like a knife through my chest. "I'm sorry, but I really don't feel anything romantic towards you. You're my friend. My best friend. I still want to be your best friend." Another knife. I really don't feel anything romantic towards you. The words ring through my ears over and over. All I can do is smile and nod. "Alright then, best friend. No worries." I laugh, and she smiles. "This isn't gonna make things weird between us?" She asks nervously. "Nah, it's all good. I don't want things to be weird between us." I wave my hand, doing a damn good job at hiding my broken heart. "Oh that's great!" She jumps up, running over to hug me, as she's done many times.

Weeks later we were still hanging out after school, like nothing ever happened. I introduced her to some more of my friends, and we all went to hang out at a park, and from the moment she waved at everyone, Namjoon going the extra mile to get up and shake her hand, I knew I was screwed. The more we hung out the closer those two got, his love for literature and music, his morals and ideals and philosophies matching hers. The whole time, all I could do was stand by. Whenever I wanted to say something, do something to show she should be with me and not him, I couldn't. They're perfect for each other, and who am I to try and stop their happiness?

Somehow I managed to stay composed through the whole service, even smiling and patting Namjoon on the back after they kiss. I have to keep it together until I go home. Please, at least until I get home. Everyone goes straight from the service to the reception, the venue being nearby. The happy couple takes a car while the rest of the wedding party splits up between two vans, bridesmaids in one and groomsmen in the other. When we're finally in the confines of the van, a collective sigh spills from our mouths, and I lean forward, my head in my hands. "You did a great job, Jimin." Jin reaches up, patting my back. A round of agreeing hums sounds through the car, and I sniffle while nodding.

"I can't do this right now. I just need to suck it up." I nod, wiping away any tears that escaped. The van pulls up to the venue, and I hope my eyes aren't red. I don't want Y/N to see me sad. We all get out, Going inside and taking our seats at the large table. It takes about 20 minutes for everyone to gather, taking their assigned seats. I smiled as Namjoon sat down next to me, but on the inside, I was falling apart.

Speech time. One of the many moments I had been dreading since I became the best man. I stand, clearing my throat and tapping my glass, getting everyone's attention. As everyone quiets down, all eyes on me, I feel on the verge of breaking again. Its hard, but I keep my cool, smiling out at the crowd. Guess it's go time.

"Hello everyone. For those of you that don't know me, I'm Park Jimin. Now, I've been friends with Y/N and Namjoon for a really long time. I was actually the one that introduced Y/N to Namjoon. Um, I didn't actually write anything for this, I figured I'd just wing it. Let's hope it goes well." I smile, and everyone laughs. "I don't really have much to say, um, I could tell some funny stories about each of them, God knows I have so much dirt. But, I won't do that. As I look around the room, and saw the service, I can tell you personally that this is absolutely Y/N's dream wedding. Trust me, she told me for years every little detail of what she wanted. Everything looks perfect, and she truly deserves it. Namjoon and Y/N, I knew from the moment I introduced you that you guys were perfect for each other, and I'm really glad you guys are happy. You both are amazing people that deserve only the best. I know it's short, but like I said, probably should've prepared something. I don't think it really takes much to get my point across though. These two are amazing together, and I hope you guys have an amazing future together."

Everyone claps, Namjoon hugging me as Y/N smiles at me. I take my seat, and all the other speeches are done. Mine probably sucked the most, but at this point, I don't really care. I'm just glad it's over with. After the speeches everyone eats and mingles, the music starts to play, everyone hitting the dance floor. The main dances take place, then everyone starts to dance together. Even though dancing is my passion, I decide to stand to he side, watching Y/N as Namjoon spins her around, holding her close to him. She looks so happy, it puts a smile on my face. All I've ever wanted was for her to be happy, and she is.

After a bit, she notices me, waving me over. I put my hands up, shaking my head, but she comes closer, grabbing my hand and pulling me up. I groan in defeat as I start dancing, her sweet laugh ringing through my ears. She's having so much fun. A slower song comes on, and I get bold, holding my hand out to her. "Namjoon, you mind if I take this dance?" I ask my friend, and he smiles. "Nah man, go ahead. I'm gonna dance with my mom." He smiles, patting me on the back. Y/N takes my hand, and I pull her close, my hand resting on her back.

"So, are you having fun yet?" She asks. "Yeah, I am. It's a great wedding. You guys did an amazing job." I smile at her. She beams, and I'm so glad it's finally because of something I did. "You were there to help a lot. I'm so lucky to have a best friend like you." She chuckles. Best friend. That's right. Even now, as her hand is in mine, holding her close to me, I'm still the best friend. All I can do is nod and smile, focusing on keeping composed. Apparently, it doesn't work. "Jimin? You okay?" She asks softly, rubbing my bicep soothingly. "Of course. Why wouldn't I be?" I smile, hoping it helps. "Chim, I've known you since we were five, I think I can tell when something's bothering you." She scoffs. All I do is nod, not saying anything.

It's takes a few moments, until she speaks again. "Is it because of-" "Y/N." I cut her off before she can say more. "Are you happy? Really happy with Namjoon?" I ask. She nods, looking up at me. "Then that's all that matters. I'm happy you're happy." I smile, rubbing her back. She nods, understanding that I don't want to talk about it anymore. The song ends, and Namjoon comes over. "Jimin, mind if I steal my wife back?" He beams. "Of course. Go ahead. I think I might be heading out soon anyway." I say, patting him on the back. "Wait what?" Y/N asks. "Leaving already?" Namjoon says. I smile at both of them. "Yeah, I'm exhausted. I'll see you guys when you get back from the honeymoon?" I ask. "Yeah. Alright then. Rest up, bud." Namjoon nods, patting my arm. Y/N reaches over, giving me a hug. "Thank you Jimin. For everything." She whispers. I pull back and smile at them before waving. I say goodbye to the guys and then wait outside for my cab. I'll be home soon. Finally.

As soon as I'm safe in my home, I close the door with my back, sighing deeply. I slide down the door, and as my bottom hits the floor, I lose it. I hug my knees to my chest, sobbing loudly. I've kept it together for so long, and everything is gushing out now. I'm glad she's happy, but why couldn't it be with me? I'm a good guy. I could make her happy. I'd treat her like the queen that she is. I'd give here everything she's ever wanted and everything she deserves. My body shakes as I sob. I'll never have a chance. I just hope Namjoon treats her right. He's a good guy, so I hope he keeps her safe and happy. I'm glad she's happy.

[teenguyen92]

Why Friends With Benefits Are the Best Relationships

Just a nice article to read. It seems true to me though.

In a few days, I’m going to Cuba on vacation with a guy I’ve been sleeping with for eight years, but whom I've never once called my boyfriend. We live on different continents, but inevitably, a few times a year, we find each other somewhere in the world, have a few days of romance, and then go our separate ways. This arrangement would generally be called a friend with benefits, or a fuck buddy, or a romantic friendship, or perhaps even a relationship—with “no strings attached.” But let’s be real: There are always strings, aren’t there?

It was while planning this vacation that it hit me: The two longest relationships of my life have both been with men who I was never officially dating. Boyfriends and girlfriends have come and gone, but my friends with benefits have stood the test of time. I mean, eight years. That’s longer than I predict my first marriage will last. And while I can’t imagine being with my Cuba date “for real”—I mean, he’s a low-key homeless anarchist who once took me on date to his Sex and Love Addicts Anonymous meeting; there are red flags—I still value our relationship immensely. And he actually knows me better than a lot of my partners ever did. So what is it about the friends with benefits dynamic that is more sustainable, and often more transparent, than an actual relationship?

People are skeptical of fuck buddies. They’re like: How can you have sex with the same person, again and again, without falling in love? Or at least, without getting super-jealous and Fatal Attraction–esque? Some assume that one of the “buddies” is always being strung along, secretly hoping that the fucking leads to something more serious. Others dismiss fuck-buddy dynamics as just being compulsive sex that’s devoid of emotion. But why do things have to be so black and white? Surely it’s possible to find a middle ground between eternal love and zombie-fucking a stranger: a place where you can care about someone, have good sex, and yet not want to literally implode at the thought of them sleeping with someone else. Right?Case in point: The most significant romantic friendship of my life was with an ex-editor of mine, whom I’ll call Malcolm. We started “a thing” five years ago and have yet to end it. When I met him, he was 45 and charmingly grumpy, and he would always tell me: “Sex is so perfect. Why destroy it with a relationship?” I’d go over to his apartment for a couple hours in the afternoons, we’d have sex (soberly, which meant I could actually cum), and then afterward we’d drink tea and complain about stuff. It was the best.

There were times when we saw each other frequently, and other times when things dropped off for a while, usually because one of us had a partner. And sure, when he would get a girlfriend I would be a little bummed out—I’m (unfortunately) not a sociopath—but it didn’t cause me to spiral into an emotional cyclone the way I would have if I’d been cheated on by a boyfriend. After all, disappointment comes from expectation.Over time, Malcolm and I became really close. It felt like we had entered this secretive bubble of transparency—we were emotionally intimate, yet free of the burden of jealousy and ownership. We could spill our guts to each other because we didn’t have anything to lose. I told Malcolm about my previous relationships, my fantasies, my heartbreak. Once, he told me this long, complicated story about an affair he had with his cousin, adding, “That’s not something I tell most people.” Probably wise on his part, but I loved that story, as problematic as it may be, because I loved knowing something about him that no one else did. Sometimes it feels like we are more honest with our friends with benefits than we are with our partners.This paradox always makes me think of that Mad Men episode when Betty seduced Don at their kid’s summer camp, well after they had both remarried. Afterward, when they’re lying in bed together, Betty says of Don’s new wife, “That poor girl. She doesn’t know that loving you is the worst way to get to you.” Harsh. But sometimes, romantic friendships can offer a type of intimacy that committed relationships can’t.I was curious to know if Malcolm felt the same way I did about all of this, so last week (for strictly journalistic purposes), I paid him a visit. “Having a friend with benefits is great because it’s just—it’s just less annoying,” he said, smoking a cigar and dressed in an inexplicable beige silk onesie. “It’s more of a low-intensity intimacy. It’s not encumbered by obligations, which just lead to resentment.”He then gave me that look—the one that means he’s about to admit to something despicable and blame it on humanity. “We are all selfish—we all live in this Ayn Rand–ish self-centered world, whether we like it or not,” he said. “When you’re in a friends with benefits situation, you don’t have go to the other person’s awful friend’s birthday party. But if you behave like that within a conventional relationship, it causes problems.

“With [FWB] there’s no illusion about the carnal aspect,” he went on, “so you can be really literal about it: You are two people who like and respect each other—and you like to fuck. There’s beauty and freedom in that honestly. And you can be playful. You can have your sex-power persona, or you can play the super-misogynist pig, or the bimbo, and it’s okay, because you’re not being judged. But if you change that dynamic into being a real relationship, then those games might not seem so sexy anymore.”In other words, your fuck buddy gets all the good stuff about being in a relationship—the wild sex, the cuddles, the juicy dark secrets—minus all of the boring, would-rather-die activities that go hand in hand with commitment, like having to help assemble your boyfriend’s IKEA bed, or having to watch your girlfriend stab at the ingrown hairs on her bikini line while she watches the Kardashians. (That’s me—I’m the girlfriend who does that.)Essentially, you’re taking a relationship and removing the creepy ownership of another human being, which leaves more room for hedonism and sexual exploration. Like, who do you want to bring to the sex party—your boyfriend or your fuck buddy? It’s a no-brainer. I’ve done so many things with fuck buddies that I never would have tried with partners, because I was too much of a jealous monster. (Like once I let Malcolm tie me to a dresser while I watched him have sex with my best friend. Unsurprisingly, it was literally awful, but now at least I can say I’ve done it?)One of the most masterful fuck friends I know is my friend Casey, a 26-year-old Ph.D. candidate in English, who until recently had a FWB for 12 years. It started when she was 13, with a boy whose family spent every summer in the same beach town as she did. (Cute alert.)Over martinis at Cafe Mogador, Casey told me, “When I’m dating someone, my immediate impulse is to be like, ‘Let’s lock shit down! My anxiety will decrease if I know you want to marry me in six years from now!’ Which is crazy and not hot or sustainable. But my longer romantic friendships have been a safe space. They’ve helped me figure out how to relate to someone romantically without the immediate trigger of, Where is this going?” In other words, having a fuck buddy is a great exercise in non-possessiveness.

“The thought of my boyfriend fucking someone else makes me want to wear his skin like a goddamned wetsuit,” she said, eyes bulging. “But with my fuck buddies it’s been like, ‘Oh, my God, tell me more.’ There’s almost a level of titillation to sex stories when it’s somebody who’s not your boyfriend. But why is that? I wish I knew, so I could bottle it and never be possessive ever again.”For all the benefits of fuck friendery, it’s still possible for this dynamic to screw with your emotions. “At different points in our relationship,” Casey recalled, “it was hard to respect the line between friendship and flirting when he started dating someone, because I’d known him more intimately than his new partner. It’s like my morals were thrown out the window, and I felt this gross egotistical sense that I should come first, because I’ve been around longer, like, ‘Girlfriends come and go, but I’m forever.’” Sometimes it’s hard to accept that these dynamics usually have an expiration date, which tends to be when one person gets into a committed relationship. And, unfortunately, not only do you lose the benefits, but you sometimes lose the friend, too.We are taught that all relationships that don’t end up in marriage are failures (because, ya know, hetero-normativity and patriarchal narratives or whatever). But subscribing to that belief ignores the fact that romantic friendships can be extremely fulfilling, enlightening, and straight-up fun. Of course, I’m not dismissing the benefits of committed, long-term, loving relationships. But both dynamics are valuable in their own right. And perhaps the reason romantic friendships are often so sustainable is they lack the soul-baring vulnerability and intense emotional investment.Maybe the coolest thing about the fuck-buddy economy is that it allows women to actually enjoy sex in a casual way, without having to enter an old-fashioned ownership contract. It celebrates female sexual autonomy. It’s a chance to explore ourselves and other people. And in the interim, we can discover who we are and what we like, instead of committing to a pseudo-marriage we aren’t ready for.

[coquelicoq]

hi! could you point me to some of those animal transformation fics you mentioned in your cat!lwj post? i've only read one so far and i need more of it in my life :)

yes certainly!! obviously this is only a drop in the bucket but hopefully it should give you somewhere to begin.

okay for the bunny fics, there are three dichotomies in terms of setup, so let's make some shorthand. first: which one of them is a rabbit? if it's lwj let's call that A, and if it's wwx let's call that B. second: for the main part of the story, does the human one know the identity of the rabbit one (C) or does he just think it's a rabbit (D)? third: are they a couple (E) or are they still in the mutual pining phase (F)? there are a lot of DF combos, which means lots of opportunities for the one who's a rabbit to grapple with "i should find a way to communicate that the rabbit is me so he can help me change back…but hmm it sure is nice to cuddle up to him whenever i want…maybe one more day and then i'll tell him" and lots of opportunities for the one who's a human to worry about where his soulmate went and potentially talk to the rabbit about how in love he is. you love to see it.

The Rabbit Prince by JessicaMDawn (T, 3.8k, ADF): frog prince au, but with a rabbit instead of a frog obviously. lwj is the rabbit and wwx is the schmuck who's sitting around crying to a bunny every day about where lwj could possibly be. then lxc offers his brother's hand in marriage to whoever can find him and bring him back to gusu...eyes emoji eyes emoji eyes emoji 

it's you, it was always you by myung (G, 7.6k, ADF): lwj says he'll marry anyone who can catch his bunny. turns out…he's the bunny and there's only one person he wants to catch him! wwx is, classically, a wholeass idiot. spends a lot of time feeling sorry for himself because he's convinced that lwj is in love with someone else, while the bunny throws itself at him just begging to be caught. inspired by this tumblr post.

and in the spring i shed my skin by wvlfqueen (T, 11.2k, ADF): modern au with magic. lwj, a shapeshifter, gets stuck as a bunny and wwx takes care of him while worrying about where he could have possibly disappeared to. of course wwx is the last to figure it out. bonus yunmeng sibling affection!! "wow, therapy is really working" was probably my favorite part. i had this one in my list of fics i wanted to put in a future rec post. 

love & longing, rabbit edition. by jaws_3 (G, 18.5k, ADF): lwj gets turned into a rabbit while in yunmeng for a night hunt. he hops himself over to lotus pier, where wwx saves him from being eaten by the disciples. wwx worries about lwj, who’s been reported missing, but lxc is suspiciously unbothered by his brother’s whereabouts (once he visits lotus pier and makes eye contact with wwx’s new pet rabbit, that is). this was also in my list of fics to rec and is probably my favorite of all the bunny transformation fics, even though there is some steep competition!

Tales From Bunny Mountain by telarna (G, 5.6k, ACE): on a different random day every year, every single lan turns into a rabbit. lwj doesn't warn wwx about this. it's chaos. jin ling is also there and gets a bunch of great dialogue. utterly delightful.

an armful of warmth by Alaceron (G, 3.4k, BDF): hogwarts au so you know what that means: animagi! specifically, wwx is a rabbit animagus and also kind of a sirius black stand-in. lwj finds him as an injured bunny and nurses him back to health without knowing it's him. super cute, and i have linked to the tumblr post which includes amazing art!!

of rabbits and men by shoutowo (G, 10.8k, BDF): wwx is turned into a bunny while lwj worries over his missing soulmate. wwx, who is enjoying getting to cozy up to lwj and hear him talk in a way he normally doesn’t, decides not to try to set the record straight. this backfires on him. happy ending though don't worry! i have read this one several times since it was published and it’s always nice to come back to it.

nothing so sweet as a bunny by jaws_3 (G, 14.5k, BCF): an experiment gone wrong turns wwx into a bunny. lwj knows it’s him and lets wwx snuggle up to him all the time, which wwx assumes is only because of his leporine form. he’s enjoying the physical closeness too much to want to turn back to a human…until he does. lxc is a very subdued (bc seclusion) matchmaker gremlin in this one. 

here’s an actual frog prince au (and beauty and the beast au, and the little mermaid au!): Frog, Beast, Fish, Idiot by Attila (T, 3.3k).

i know of two swan princess!lwj aus: what else is there? by mme_anxious (T, 18.9k) and far longer than forever by jaws_3 (G, 8.9k).

i know i've read more than this but i was only able to find these two dog transformation fics: a wwx one (An Unexpected New Leash on Life by hachoo, M, 5.8k) and a lwj one (lovely days by tagteamme, T, 15.6k, also includes yunmeng shuangjie shenanigans)!

and omg while i was looking just now i did actually find a cat!lwj fic!! it's more about wwx and his animal form (well, kind of), but lwj has a cat form in this one, which is fun. also it's very short and very lovely: How to Be Human by Kimra (G, 2.4k). and then i found this one in which both wwx and lwj are turned into cats and start making trouble in cloud recesses: Hope by Quiet_crash (G, 1.5k). and here's one where wwx comes back as a cat for one day, five or so years after he died. i know that doesn’t qualify as cat!lwj and it’s also not really animal transformation, but i’m including it anyway because i liked it: who sings for the world by ceramize (G, 3.7k).

okay, that’s it for now! i know there are more out there because there are several i can remember but couldn’t find, and i’m sure i haven’t read all the ones that there are. i hope you find something here that tickles your fancy.

[droo216]

Hey, sorry, this is kind of a weird question, but you're the only person I can think of to come with this to. I've also been a big time fan of Peter Pan ever since I was a kid, but I'm about to graduate high school this Saturday. So I just wanted to ask - from one Pan fan to another... how did you deal with growing up?

Okay first of all, please accept my apology for this delayed response. I’m so sorry that it has taken me so long to reply, but growing up has been hard, so it’s a major reflection to talk about.

Second of all, congratulations! I hope the end of your time in high school went smoothly and that you’re excited about whatever may come next!

As for your question.

Dang, I’ve started to tear up already and I haven’t even started typing.

I’ve said before that the reader is meant to identify with Wendy’s role in the story - ultimately, she realizes that growing up is important and a natural part of life, and she allows herself to be excited about her potential for her future. But I get where Peter is coming from too. The future is scary. Psychological studies have shown that most people are optimistic about the future - we tend to believe things will get better rather than worse. We think the future holds a better job, a happier home, a full family, and so on. But I think many of us are left with the question: what if it doesn’t get better?

In high school, I was a pretty quiet person. I got straight As, I was a model student. I shown most brightly in choir and definitely in theatre. I went through many different ideas of what I wanted to do - author, actor, elementary teacher, even a dentist at one point. But I was the theatre kid. I loved theatre, I’ve done it consistently since I was seven years old, I’ve done dozens and dozens of shows. It was, in a way, the path of least resistance.

In college, as is often the case, others were lit more brightly than I was. It wasn’t a shock, I expected to receive smaller roles and understudies in my first year, but other freshmen were playing John Proctor and Abigail in The Crucible while I was sitting quietly in the back as Ezekiel Cheever, who has maybe ten lines in the whole show. I got my share of leading roles as my time progressed and I was cast every semester - but I just wasn’t ever the gem of the department. My friends were.

I went to school thirty minutes away from my hometown. It was just far enough to get away while still having that safety net. Around my sophomore year, a friend of mine did the Disney College Program and I started getting it in my head that I wanted to go work at Disney too. I’m sure my closely-guarded secret crush on him was related to this, but I also love Disney and it seemed like a natural step. Again, the path of least resistance. I’ve always had a connection to Florida anyway because I was born here, and I also needed the distance from my hometown that Orlando provided to allow me to - pardon the horrible cliche - “find myself.” Let’s say, I needed to… figure some things out.

I’ve learned the most about myself and life in general in my time down here in Florida. I still have a hard time thinking of myself as an adult. I’ve lived with many different roommates, with both positive and negative results. I’ve taken on a lot more responsibility financially, but my dad still covers my phone bill and we all share my sister’s Netflix account. I now live in a house - a real house! - but we rent it from a guy in the Netherlands and it takes a total of five roommates to cover the rent and we have almost zero furniture in the shared spaces because we all came from apartments where the other people owned the couches and tables and chairs.

There’s a lot of yucky things about growing up. Bills are the worst part. I hate cleaning dishes. I don’t mind putting the laundry in but taking it out and folding and hanging everything is a drag. I made spaghetti for the first time a month ago and my first ever grilled cheese two weeks ago. I always put off vacuuming as long as possible. Maintenance for my car is beyond annoying.

But responsibility means freedom. Growing up ties you down in many ways but it releases you in others. Don’t want to make the bed? You don’t have to. As long as you’re happy with an unmade bed, you’re allowed to do that. (I love having a made bed, which is probably shocking to absolutely no one.) Want to eat ice cream for dinner? You can. It’s not great for you, but sometimes you just need some ice cream and now there’s no one to tell you no. And the sucky parts of growing up often yield positive results. That grilled cheese I made? I NAILED it on the first shot, it turns out I make a FANTASTIC grilled cheese, and now I think I’m a gourmet chef every time I butter up a couple pieces of toast and put some Kraft slices between them. Keeping up with the car is rough, especially because I don’t know a thing about cars - but I have a car. I can go wherever I want, whenever I want. I often don’t. But if I wanted to, I could. I probably don’t exercise the freedom that growing up allows as much as I could, honestly.

Growing up is always on my mind. I’m 27. I thought I’d be married by 25 but I am very single with no potential suitor in sight. My dad was my age when I was born. I still text him every time I have a question about student loans or any money thing, really. I feel like I should know all this stuff by now, but every day I learn a little bit more and get a little closer to total responsibility. I hate that I’m this age and can’t afford my own place or even a couch for the place I do have. It’s like the lovely lady says in Finding Neverland about the crocodile’s role in the play. Time is chasing all of us.

The roughest part has been this year. Receiving a Stage III C colon cancer diagnosis at the age of 27 was surreal. When the doctor said the word “cancer,” I had a Hermione Granger response. I was very matter-of-fact, very clinical. When I told a friend that night and said the word “cancer” out loud with my own lips, I broke down in tears. I’m a fully grown man with a job and a house and a beard and I felt like a child inside. I was terrified. I still am. It’s not done, and it’s never going to be. This is something I’ll have to keep checking in on for the rest of my life.

This is a pattern I have begun to notice about being a grown up. Things don’t go away. You fix the car and something else breaks. You empty the dishwasher and fill it right back up. You go to the doctor and find out a diagnosis and now you have to monitor that continuously. You come out to your close friends, you finally come out to your family, you think it’s done, I’m out, I’m free - but you just escape from a tiny cage and found out that that cage was inside another one that is only marginally bigger than the first, and every time you meet someone new, you have to come out again and again and who knows how they’re going to react. I know there’s another Neverland-related simile here but I can’t think of what it is.

I still think grown-up me is someone that exists in the future, not in the present. I still don’t know what I want to do when I grow up. It’s changing all the time. For now, I have enough battles to get through, the job is the least of my concerns. And when I think about my future, if someone were to ask me what I want in the coming years, the job doesn’t even come to mind. I think about my relationships and what I want those to look like. That’s not the case for everyone, but it’s something important I’ve realized about myself.

Here’s a thought: Peter Pan loves being a child because he thinks it brings him freedom. But Wendy sees how trapped Peter is, physically and mentally and emotionally, and realizes that she must return to the responsibilities that await her in adulthood in order to grow and earn that ability to make your own choices. That’s what growing up is. Making your own choices.

I honestly don’t know if I’ve answered your question. I have to tell you though, you’re not alone in this feeling. I’m probably almost a decade older than you and I feel the same way. Growing up is an awfully big adventure. It’s daunting. But if we don’t keep moving forward, we will trap ourselves even further.

I hope this helps, and I hope you’re doing well. I’d love to hear from you about how you’re feeling as we hit halfway through your first summer post-graduation. If I remember right, it doesn’t entirely feel like everything is changing yet because the first summer just feels like part of the school cycle that you’re used to. Autumn is when it feels like the next stage has begun.

I think that’s all I have to say for now. I poured more of my heart out than I expected to. I’m sending faith and trust your way - I’m sure we both need them right now.

[lesbian-ed]

🌸Hi, a few years ago when I was 16 (19 now)I was forced out to my friends by this homophobic girl, and I came out as bi (still in the closet to my family), I'm no longer friends with any of them, but I can't figure out what label I should have, I really want to just know who I am. I said to them I was bi, but I've never felt right with that label. I read about comp het and it makes so much sense to me, but I still don't know. 1/5

🌸I feel, like, attracted to male celebs, but only when they’re in films or tv, and watching interviews of them ruins it?, and whenever I’m around guys I get these thoughts I can’t control about kissing them and sleeping with them and I feel rlly self conscious, I said this to a friend who said it’s a crush, but I get it with people I don’t like at all 2/?

🌸 And sometimes I have a phase where I feel like I could date a guy and marry him and have kids and be happy but it feels like I’m imagining a perfect version of me that actually im not like at all? And as well I can only imagine myself with a young guy, once I think about a 30 yr old or older I don’t want it anymore, but the perfect fantasy seems so appealing idk 3/?

🌸I feel different about girls but I don’t know I’m catholic and I feel like it’s always been other people are gay and that’s ok but not me? And I don’t know whether I feel no attraction to girls or I’m pushing it down bc when I see girls kiss on tv I literally have started crying and I saw a lesbian couple in public once and I got butterflies and also Ive found myself changing pronouns in songs in my head without realising but I’ve never had close to a crush on anyone especially not a girl 4/5

🌸Ive never even met a gay girl except for one pan girl at school but she was really weird and rude so I don’t know what it’s supposed to be like to like someone? writing this all down it makes it sound like I’m definitely a lesbian but that scares me so much bc ill never have a normal life and I can’t shake this feeling that actually I do want to be with a guy but I’m trying to be interesting or I’m faking this or something. Pls tell me your thoughts on this 5/5

Oh, anon. This literally all feels as if my younger self came into my ask box just now to ask for advice. 

I understand your pain, I really do, I went through so many of the same thought processes you’re describing now. It’s good that you’re aware of compulsory heterosexuality, since I believe that will make sorting your feelings easier. Still, I recommend you look through our tag (if you haven’t already) to read more thoughts on this. It’ll help. 

I obviously can’t tell you what your sexuality is for you, that’s your own journey to make, but this sounds so much like my own experience that I’m pretty sure what the answer is already.

Anon, let me tell you a story, I went to a catholic school and while my parents are pretty liberal and not that religious (in fact, my dad’s an atheist) I was also raised with the idea that ok, there were gay people out there, and I didn’t care what other people did with their lives! But honestly that was kind of weird and I couldn’t be like them, because they weren’t normal, like I should be. I was bullied a lot as a kid, because I was weird and ugly and way too shy and easy to pick on, so I grew up with this idea that whatever else happened, I had to stop being like that, I had to be beautiful and normal and acceptable. And that of course included a perfect fantasy of marrying the man of my dreams after he fell in love with men when I suddenly grew up to be the most beautiful woman there was, and having kids, and holding down a successful job that I was happy doing and having lots of money and well, just having the most perfect life. How could I not want that? Ever since I was old enough to walk, society fed me the idea that this was my ideal endgame, how could we ALL not dream about that at some point? 

I used to be obsessed with those stories where the “ugly” girl suddenly turns beautiful and the Nice Perfect Popular Boy finally notices her and they get together, those stories were my dream life. As a kid and young teen I’d fantasize about them constantly, I’d make up characters that would always end up fulfilling those same tropes. It was the way to prove to all those who ever called me ugly or belittled me because I was nerdy that “see? I got the happy ending” so when I was twelve, and suddenly all the girls were having crushes on boys I felt nothing for, while I started noticing seemingly out of the blue just how incredibly beautiful so many girls my age and older were, I got veeery scared. I couldn’t like girls like that, I wasn’t like that, I was already weird and had no friends, so how could I ever hope to find a girl who liked girls who’d like me? And if I did, everyone already hated me, so how would I bear it? The stares and the insults and the danger we’d face if people saw us together on the street? So I pushed that attraction down as far as I could, I convinced myself I was actually just too inmature to start thinking about crushes and all that stuff, and obviously when I was mature enough and the time came, I’d like boys, because that’s what Normal Girls did right? And I had to be normal.

In my school’s equivalent of US’ eighth grade, a new boy came to our class, he was pretty, and friendly, and most importantly, blonde! and he was the school sports star! It felt like every movie-like fantasy I ever had come to life. Every girl was in love with him, so one time I had a dream where we were dating. I woke up being absolutely ecstatic, that must have meant I had a crush right? I liked a boy? I was definitely straight?

I never actually began feeling nervous around this boy, or looking at him any more than usual until I had this dream and decided that meant I was in love. I told a friend eventually because I was excited about being in love and the fantasy I had created for myself about our perfect relationship (which did involve us kissing and having sex, and I never actually felt turned on about it but I did imagine it a lot because it meant we were In Love, so those fantasies happen even if you don’t actually like like the person in question, dw!), and isn’t that what you do when you like someone? Gossip about it with your friends? She told some of my bullies and the dude found out, so he started laughing at me in the middle of the class and calling me ugly and saying he was traumatized at the mere idea of me liking him. 

And I… felt nothing. I was angry of course, and sad, but it was just the same anger and sadness I felt when some random I didn’t like made fun of me, it wasn’t even like what I felt when former friends said nasty stuff about me. And I wanted to be heartbroken I wanted to wallow in the misery and the drama of it, but I just wasn’t, it was the same “well this shit sucks and I’m angry about it but it happens everyday so wyd?” There was no deeper feeling there, not even any special resentment, there was nothing. I never felt anything ever again when I looked at this boy.

Now, sometime later, the same boy starts dating a girl from our class, and it was around the same time that I was coming to terms with the fact that the latent attraction I had started to feel for women when I was younger had never actually gone away but rather had grown. Things were purely about sexual attraction for me at that point, not romantic feelings. I hadn’t actually been in love with a girl either by that point. Because even tho I was accepting my sexual attraction to women, I still had the idea in my mind that ideally I would end up with a boy, because when so much of my hopes for the future relied of me being beautiful and a man falling in love with me forever and ever so that I could have a normal future, letting go of that dream took a while. I called myself bisexual for a while, only to realize very little later that it didn’t actually fit me. When I did, it was hard, because I had to re-come out again to my mom and the two friends I had told, and that really scared me, because I felt like some fake, like what I felt was not actually real. I put it off, and my friends & mom were accepting but they also were like “you’re just confused about your sexuality!!/this is just a phase!!” so that fed into my insecurities. Even when I realized I was sexually into women only, I still hadn’t fallen in love with one, so that made things more confusing for me (I hadn’t fallen for any boy other than the one I mentioned earlier and one I met on a vacation that thought I liked for like a week because he had a pretty voice and was pretty androgynous lmao, but again, no heartbreak when he went away)

Eventually, (funnily enough through fandoms and f/f ships and fics that depicted them in loving relationships, And I cried when I read about girls kissing too, at first I thought it was because I was a Good Straight Ally, but I was just a lesbian lmao) I realized that I could also be happy in a relationship with a woman, that it was not only a possible future for me, but one that I wanted, one that felt right, one in which I wouldn’t be the beautiful, perfect, feminine, smart, succesful career woman I had dreamed of as a kid, but in which I’d be me, with all my quirks and faults, with another woman with her own quirks and faults who’d love me for who I am, because that was possible! It was possible to be happy like that!. When I realized this, that me liking girls romantically and sexually, and exclusively girls was okay, it felt like a veil was lifted from my eyes. Suddenly, all the feelings and attraction I had thought I had felt for boys paled in comparison to the intensity of what I felt for women, I learned what actual sexual desire was like, I yearned for a future with a real me in it with a real woman by my side, instead of the fake ideal I’d wanted to be when I was younger. It was around that time I fell in love for the first time.

Remember how I mentioned the boy I used to “like” got a girlfriend? Well, guess who I fell for? Me and her were assigned seats together one year in high school, and I got to know her through the first term, every time liking her more and more, until one day, she just walks into class, and I think she did something different with her hair? Whatever it was, seeing her felt like someone punching the breath out of me, it felt like watching literal perfection embodied. And I was gone, I was just so so sooo gone. I felt sparks when we sat next to each other, I couldn’t stop smiling like a fool whenever I looked at her, she’d say something nice to me and it felt like my soul was flying out of my body. And of course it was idealized, it was a crush on a girl I didn’t know that well, but the feelings I had, I had for her, for her actual personality, her actual sweetness, her actual kindness, even her actual rashness sometimes, not the fantasy I had made up of her that I projected onto her like I did when I “liked” her boyfriend. I liked her as a person. Plus the intensity of both crushes was just so fucking different. When I liked her, I cried when we were apart and at the thought of her with her dumbass idiot boyfriend, I listened to a love song and could relate to it for the first time. I understood finally why people would write poetry and songs and do all sorts of crazy things for this feeling. 

Tldr: I also fantasized about the ideal boy and I was never able to allow myself to feel anything for a girl because of how much I had repressed my sexuality due to fear of backlash until I was able to recognize that yes, liking women was OK and then all my repressed feelings came pouring out like a tsunami. 

If that sounds like something you can kind of relate to, then that’s your answer anon. However, it might not be, or maybe you don’t know if it is yet. That’s alright! Sexuality can be complicated and it can take a long time to figure it out. You’re not on a deadline here, you don’t have to stress about it.

As for the normal part, yeah being a lesbian in this society sucks a lot. And I still get terrified of the idea that I will not be “normal” and that I can never be happy. Even if I know deep in my heart that I can never be happy with a man, sometimes I wonder if it’d be worth it to spare me the pain. The answer? Hell no, I’ve got one life, one, what’s the point of wasting it on loveless unfulfilled relationships when I could try to go for someone I’ll actually be happy with? There’ll be pain, of course there will be, I live in a small town and I’ve only just started meeting other lesbians & bi girls offline this year because I’ve gone to university, and I’ve only ever actually started talking to and becoming actual friends with the ones I knew online this year too because I was so terrified before! All of them tell me about their hurt, and how lesbophobia affects them a lot, and yet I see them talking about how much they love their girlfriends/wives (I don’t have that because I’m an awkward potato but I’m trying) and also other lesbians, and it gives me hope, because I can be just like them, finding genuine happiness amidst the pain.

I hope this answer helps you. 

Mod M :D