Me, Not Talking: Ah Fuck, I Am Being Weird

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Reblog if you’re kind of a dumbass

Sometimes it’s really lonely being an author. Because when you’re writing, you’re doing it alone, and there’s no one there to gush over silly feelings with you.

And I suppose that’s why reader comments are important to authors. It’s not about the compliments. It’s that we’ve been alone with our thoughts this whole time. It’s an awesome feeling when a friend shows up to share them with you.

we used to curse whole bloodlines for less than this

Olivia Laing, The Lonely City: Adventures in the Art of Being Alone

Another Love - tasm!peter parker x f!reader (1/3)

a/n: here is part one of three for my April Au.

warnings: historical inaccuracies abound. views mimic those of the time to the best of my ability. those being the need for an heir. but medieval king!peter is a feminist. i swear by it.

cross posted on ao3.

NEXT CHAPTER

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“i wanna take you somewhere so you know i care, 

but it’s so cold and i don’t know where.”

- another love; tom odell.

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You didn’t know how you got here, and yet a part of you had prepared for it all your life. As you stared out at the crowd in the beautiful hall, your wrist tied to King Peter’s, you fully realized the immensity of your situation. A Queen to a country not your own—married to a man who barely looked at you during the vow exchange. The priest standing beside you on the dais spoke so many words, but none of them reached your ears. You could only focus on the way your hand bleeding hand presently tied to King Peter’s throbbed like a beating heart, echoing the way your mind screamed at you to be anywhere but there. 

Bound to a man who barely acknowledged your presence as he swore fealty to you. Promised to love and cherish you as your husband. To never venture from your bed chamber—to provide the kingdom with an heir. Created with love, or at least the people of the court hoped for that. 

You knew this was only an arrangement. A marriage bartered like mere goods at a market. Your country intended to supply Ayelandia with goods to sustain them through another brutal winter after a time of war. Mere politics, disguised by a charade of a wedding for the people to fawn over. 

As if anyone cared. 

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it's giving princess celestia

constant and cold, how do we live with this

this is super long, but!!! anyways!! I made a few adjustments to the world for the sake of the fic but! still super fun to write in a world like this!!! I haven’t read the book since I was like 12 or 13 so I had to rely on wiki a bit, but I hope you enjoy anon!!!! sorry for such a long wait!

requested by anonymous

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: The reader enters a competition for the prince’s hand in marriage (aka a the selection au)

Word Count: 5.3k i kn o w

Warnings: cursing and classism

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For the fourth time in history - written history, at least - the country of Dianna announces the holding of the Selection: a competition between girls of the provinces for the prince’s hand in marriage. Held in the castle, the girls spend days or weeks or months or, on one occasion, years whittling down their numbers until the prince chooses a bride.

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Close for Comfort

Harry Potter x Reader

Plot: You and Harry comfort each other after Moody demonstrates the Unforgivable Curses in class. 

Warnings: none per se, use of Unforgivable Curses/mentions of death may be uncomfortable for some

(This will be based off of the book more than the movie, for anyone wondering. Also, didn’t have a lot of time to proofread this so...oops? Feedback is welcome as always! Enjoy!)

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All fourth years were beyond excited to attend their first Defense Against the Dark Arts class with Professor Moody, what with the older students (especially the Weasley twins and Lee Jordan) ranting and raving over the class. Naturally, you were curious about what Moody could possibly do to get the twins actually interested in a class. 

You definitely did not expect to witness the use of the Unforgivable Curses.

The class chatted excitedly until a distinctive ‘clunk clunk clunk’ could be heard echoing down the corridor.

“You can put those away,” Professor Moody grumbled. All at once, the class shoved their textbooks back into their bags. He took attendance, his magical eye rolling around to look at each student, and minutes later pulled a glass jar from his desk. Inside, three large spiders scurried around, seemingly in terror of what was to befall them. 

“Imperio!” he cried. The entire class watched with bated breath as the spider Moody had placed in the palm of his hand began doing all sorts of flips and tricks. The classroom filled with laughter. 

All but yours.

“Think it’s funny, do you? You’d like it if I did it to you?” Moody growled. “Only one person in this bloody classroom with any common sense,” he muttered, his bright magic eye landing on you. 

You’d never had the displeasure of witnessing any of the Unforgivable Curses before today, and frankly, you were quite glad. The Imperius Curse made you uncomfortable; you weren’t by any means fond of spiders, but you couldn’t help but pity the poor creature. Certainly no one would enjoy losing complete control of their mind and body and being forced into acting as a show pony. 

And it only got worse from there. 

Neville, surprising the entire class, and undeniably himself as well, raised his hand and offered Moody the next curse - “the Cruciatus Curse,” he all but whispered. 

Moody lifted the next spider from the jar, enlarged it using Engorgio, and then cast “Crucio!” 

The spider’s legs curled into its body and it began to twitch and rock back in forth, gradually shuddering more and more violently. Tears filled your eyes as you imagined how much pain the poor thing was in. You felt sobs ready to escape your body and you watched the spider, and even more so once you realized poor Neville was visibly distraught as well. You were ready to put an end to this when- 

“Stop it!” cried Hermione. Moody raised his gnarled hand from the spider, reduced it to its normal size, and placed it back into the jar. 

The time came for the final curse. The Killing Curse. 

Professor Moody raised his wand and the entire class hushed in an equal mix of anticipation and horror. You closed your eyes, unable to watch the scene unfold. “Avada Kedavra!” 

Green light flashed, signaling to you that the deed was done; though you still dreading opening your eyes to witness the aftermath. Ron had nearly fallen out of his chair, and Moody proceeded to swipe the spider’s lifeless body onto the floor. Tears filled your eyes once again; death in general upset you more than you could explain.

“Not pleasant. And there’s no counter-curse, no blocking it. Only one known person has ever survived it, and he’s sitting right in front of me.” Everyone turned to look at Harry Potter. The Boy Who Lived. Sitting at the desk to his left, you could see him squirm under the watch of so many eyes. And you could see the pain behind his own. You could only imagine the pain he felt, having watched his parents die trying to protect him. Even though he was so young when it happened, you were sure he had some recollection of it all. 

Once class had ended, you rushed to meet him in the hallway. “Harry!” you called after him. He motioned for Ron and Hermione to continue on without him and turned to you.

“Oh, (Y/N),” he uttered. “Um, is everything okay?”

“That’s what I wanted to ask you actually. I know watching all that couldn’t have brought up good memories, so I just wanted to check on you.” Harry’s eyebrows rose in surprise. He’d only talked to you a few times before, nothing major, so this was rather unexpected. Although, if he knew one thing about you, it was that you had a kind heart; you were even kind to Slytherins. Well, most of them. 

“Well...if I’m being honest, I am a little shaken, I suppose. Seeing the Killing Curse in person definitely isn’t my idea of fun,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Would you like to join me in the Astronomy Tower after dinner? With Halloween coming up my parents sent me some sweets a little early and I won’t be able to eat it all on my own,” you offered, smiling as sweetly as the candy stashed in your nightstand. “Plus, I could use a little pick-me-up as well.”

Harry thought for a second, then nodded. “That sounds lovely, (Y/N). I’ll see you then.”

Roughly an hour later, as you sat in the Astronomy Tower wrapped in your favorite blanket, Harry made his way up to join you. You spent hours together- talking, reminiscing, joking around with each other, and stuffing yourselves full of candy. Harry, at some point, found his way under your blanket as well, and from time to time you would brush hands or bump knees (not that either of you were complaining; you found a strange sense of comfort in each other). After yawning for about the thousandth time each, you realized it was probably time for the two of you to go your separate ways. 

“I had a wonderful time, Harry,” you told him. “It was nice to get to know you better.”

“I had a great time too,” he smiled. “We should do this more often; especially if there’s sweets involved.” Both of you laughed at his response. You bid each other good night, watching Harry as he made his way back to the Gryffindor Common Room. From that night on, he was not only the Boy Who Lived- he was the Boy Who Lived in your dreams.