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celaenaeiln · 5 months

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Ok this is random, and all but I have made it my sworn duty to submit at least 3 questions a week, and it's like a minute before the end of this week. Have you ever been in a harry Potter phase, because I saw you use it as a reference for one post about happy robin, and also because I'm stumped on what to ask you and I DO NOT want to break my record

I HAD A HUGE HARRY POTTER PHASE!!

Harry Potter was my first book series ever actually and I just completely fell in love with it. Batfam came much later but the longest ongoing fandom I've ever been in is the Harry Potter now. I haven't been in it for about a year now but wow it was my first fandom ever. I used to read dramione fics on wattpad lol my first fanfiction introduction.

I was a massive hermione stan so I read a bunch of fics about her. My favorite pairing used to dramione but as I grew older I started falling into tomione (^◇^；) but really I was casual hermione x everyone shipper.

I even did the pottermore thing too online where you can quiz yourself to see what house, wand, and patronus you get and I got slytherin which didn't come as a surprise at all. At the time I thought it was so cool to be part of the evil house lol. I was such an embarrassing kid looking back.

Actually I originally created my tumblr account to see dramione stuff lol before I started getting into other fandoms and it became my fall back fandom when I was bored with the other ones or did want to engage with them.

I didn't really have a second favorite character after Hermione, I don't think Dumbledore deserves to be hated for being manipulative, and wtf is going on with the cursed child.

Writing this is giving me so many flashbacks it makes me want to start reading the fics again! It's also 1 of only 6 fandoms I've ever created a separate list of fics for because I really loved the source thing.

My favorite class was Charms because I thought it would be the most useful too. Don't want to make your bed? Magic! Don't want to clean the kitchen? Magic! Want to redecorate? Magic!!! Charms is so versatile that you can use it for anything. If voldemort was smarter he would've magicked his face to look normal using Charms, approached harry, and killed him. Voila! Problem solved! But I guess he lost his brains along with his beauty sadly but not unfortunately.

I heard there's a new Marauders movie coming out?? I wasn't going to watch it but then I saw people shipping James Potter and Regulus Black together because of it and now I want to see it only out of sheer bewilderment of what could've possibly led to that. Or so I tell myself.

The Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them!! I LOVED the movie series!!! The first two were really good and third was okay but all that doesn't matter because the graphics. Unpopular opinion but I really loved the original Percy Jackson movies even though they were nothing like the books because the graphics were so cool. Action movies are my favorite so seeing columns of water rise up and seeing how real it looked, it was like a fantasy turned reality! The Harry Potter and Fantastic Beasts movie series, I fell in love watching them because of the magic.

Which is hilarious now because I used to be scared of watching the Harry Potter movies! When my parents watched the first movie and I was really little I would hide because I was really scared of Voldemort and felt really sad about Harry losing his parents and the thought of it made me cry 😅🙈

But yeah Harry Potter is like number 2 biggest fandom for me right after the Batfam although it used to be number one. I have a fleeting interest span. So if I'm addicted to a show but I don't watch it for a few days, I lose all interest in it completely and forever (sorry Vampire Diaries) or a game (goodbye sky: children of the light) but these two fandoms, I can not be in them for several months or even years but I never lose interest. Just my love for them ig!

#harry potter #cl anon asks #thanks for the ask!

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howtonotgocrazy · 6 months

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Nature i

Nature. This is going to be an ongoing theme for me. I often sit in my car and read, knit, or listen to music. Reading and music have always been a staple for me and my tranquility, but the knitting is new. Started a couple years back in an attempt to release some of the anxiety I was struggling with after what could be the worst 10 months of my life to date. My original metal knitting needles are bent to a degree that it surprises even me they still produce such quality pieces. Ignore the fact that I tend to keep a bag of hard candies next to while doing this. I'm somewhere between a struggling pretend adult and an old lady trying her best to survive life, according to my brother at least.

On the back of my car I wrote a saying. Nothing too clever or fancy, just a friendly message so the people on my bumper behind me, egging me to go faster would understand my thinking while I kept the odometer at the speed limit. 'I drive slow cause I'm trying to get right with nature". It started with me losing all the comforts I had before. A job I routinely and methodically (almost mechanically) did. A group of friends that I fell out of step with as I finalized my divorce. A partner that I lost due to unfortunate circumstances. And nearly my sanity it felt. I needed a therapeutic change. Finding a therapist is easy. Finding a good therapist is the challenge. I had been through a couple who didn't click with me, tried the online avenues to no success. At one point I had actually found a quality therapist. He listened to me, he heard me, he never judged my crazy, but instead tried to understand me, and even went out of his way to learn about the personality types I felt I fell into. He is still a great therapist, but he moved out of state, and out of my insurance coverage. After him I tried a few others, but none of them seemed to be as invested in my actual health, so much as just stamping me into a cookie-cutter form of crazy they saw fit and moving on after prescribing me stuff I had previously tried and detested. Don't get me wrong, it wasn't the medications that I blamed. It's all brain chemistry. Maybe they work on other people, but the couple of doctors I saw seemed more interested in throwing the usual crazy pills at me, instead of listening to me and hearing what I was saying. I was way to honest with them initially, and was inadvertently punished for that in some ways, but that's a story for another post.

Alas, I needed a therapy regime that would work for me. I picked nature. Something about being alone with 2 cats, and your own thoughts for 10 months while you fall into a self made downward spiral that eventually gives you a bit of clarity in life. Nature appeared to be the most calming avenue. I found a mountain I liked to sit on top of and watch the clouds. I found trees that offered comfort and shade on the hotter days. I found water that flowed with such a soothing quality that it almost sounded like angels from nature trying to create new melodies. The more I sat in nature and actually stopped to enjoy it, the better I felt.

My dad lovingly compared it to watching paint dry when I was trying to explain to him that I spent around a half hour watching leaves fall one day. I get it, I can be easily amused. But I recommend it. Ignore the pressures of time for a minute and give yourself the freedom to move at Nature's pace for a bit. Each gentle breeze that the passing traffic made would rock the branches just enough. They'd barely seem to notice the gust of wind that moved them, but the leaves would shake. Shake and the ones that felt they had done their time and were ready to fall, let go of the branch they were attached to. And they'd swirl down slowly on that very same breeze that dislodged them. Twirling and dancing slowly to the ground. A form of freedom for the dried leaf. And those leaves would be in all shades of red, orange, brown, yellow and green that you could imagine. Plastering the ground below their former home with new dimension and vibrancy. Where I live the rain is usually pretty heavy and that leads to the fall being full of coloring changing trees and bright green grass. Making those leaves that decided to let go stand out beautifully against the thriving green grass below it. It almost felt like watching a slow motion depiction of glitter being thrown down onto an already beautiful picture. Each leaf being it's own shiny entity, making it's way down to the ground to add to the beauty of it all. Magical if you ask me.

That's one of like a thousand times this last year that nature has taken me by surprise and shown me something that it has on display on the regular for everyone to see. I was glad I stopped to appreciate it.

Long story short, get out into nature. See it, smell it, take it all in, pick up some of the trash someone else left behind to say thank you to nature for just existing for us to appreciate. Maybe feed some of the birds or squirrels along the way. (You definitely should). It's a free form of therapy that never judges you. It doesn't ask for anything and just seems to have all the answers to all those unasked questions.

#Nature #yeah bitch nature

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arctickat2400 · 3 years

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Safe Is Overrated <> Peter Parker

Anonymous Request: Can you please write a Peter Parker x reader tangled au story or the little mermaid au story???

Note: This was an interesting one. I'm not sure how much of an AU it is. I had a bit of a hard time writing it, all these different thoughts and ideas that may or may not have made it in. But, I think it came out fine. Two parts. Please request more; I need ideas; and I hope y'all enjoy!

* * *

“Mom, I’ll be fine. I always am.” I told her when she wouldn’t listen to my pleads. Instead, she ignored my desires and continued making dinner.

“No, Y/N. I told you, it’s not safe out there. I’m not sure why we’re still having this conversation. It’s going nowhere.” Mom said. She seemed so nonchalant about all of this, even as my voice rose.

“But, you never let me see him. And who cares if it isn’t safe out there? You can’t keep me locked up in here,” I gestured to our decent-sized, two-bedroom New York apartment. “I’m gonna have to leave at some point. What’re you gonna do when I go off to college? Are you just not gonna let me go? You keep me here every second of every day. It’s a mystery how I even met Peter,” It’s actually not. He lives in the building across the street and he helped me with my boxes and things when we first moved in several years ago and we have been friends ever since. I have had a crush on him for a while, wondering what could happen between us if my mom would just let me go someplace other than the damn living room and bathroom.

“I need to be able to go out and hang out with people, make friends, get a job, try New York food, smell the New York air, and feel the ocean breeze on my skin,” I argued.

“You can feel and smell all those things from the terrace right outside your bedroom window. You do it every day…”

“That’s beside the point. I need to go out. Walk around, do the things you should be telling me to do but don’t because you won’t let me leave. I need to leave!” I raised my voice and mom finally turned around.

“Y/N, I told you no! You will not be leaving this house and you will no longer bring it up, do you understand?” She took me by surprise. She’s never yelled at me before. I for sure quieted down at this.

“Okay, I’m sorry.” I apologized under my breath as I made my way back to my room. Whiskey lifted his head at the sound of me entering my room. The Australian Shepherd is my best friend, besides Peter of course. My mom bought him for me one day, back before we moved here because she “felt bad” that I couldn’t go out and make any friends, even though it’s her that was keeping me from doing so. Whiskey has always been there for me. He always cheers me up. He would sleep with me at night, watch movies with me, comfort me when I’m sad or stressed, would help me with my homework and online classes. He’s honestly the best friend and dog anyone could ask for.

I opened my window to let some fresh air in, looking across the street and seeing Peter’s lights on in his room. I stepped out onto my terrace, Whiskey jumping off my bed and following, and, where most terraces had stairs going up to the following floors, mine had locked up gates preventing me from going anywhere. But, mom bought me all these nice pillows and blankets that I piled up to make a nice place to chill out and be comfortable. Not that it makes up for locking me up, but it was something.

I lived on the top floor of a 20 story building. You’d think I’d be scared of heights when it came to this and would avoid coming to the terrace. But it gave me peace and sincerity. It keeps me calm being out here. I could see a lot of the city up here. It was best at night. I could see every light in the city. Sometimes I’d stay out in the very later hours of the night just to stare at the lights, imagining what it would be like to see them up close. Whiskey made everything better. Just by being around, he grounds me, keeps me on my feet. He’s always at my side.

It seemed like Peter was quite concentrated. Possibly building something for his job or creating something that he brainstorms in his unusually smart mind. Every few seconds, he would pace past his window, each time with a different part or piece of equipment. I’ve never been to his room. I’ve always wanted to. It seems so homey and comfy. I’ve heard a lot about his Aunt May as well. She seems so sweet, very fun to be around, but I’ve never met her either, unfortunately.

Just then, my phone vibrates against the bricks of the windowsill. Peter was calling.

Peter: Hey, Lone Wolf.

That was Peter’s nickname for me whenever he caught me on the terrace since I seem so lonely and have no one to hang out with.

Y/N: Hey, Peter. Whatcha up to?

Peter: Oh, nothing. You would think it’s boring, anyway.

Y/N: It doesn’t look like nothing with all that pacing back and forth you’re doing, and you know I wouldn’t think it’s boring, but okay, if you don’t want to tell me.

I watched Peter open his own window and climb out onto his terrace. He smiled when we sat down and saw me watching him. Whiskey lifted his head off my leg once he sensed that Peter had come out. Whiskey loves Peter.

He has a doggy door so he’s able to go out when he wants or needs. The doorman downstairs opens the door for him, such a sweet man, the few times I met him. Every time Whiskey went outside, he would run to Peter every time he walked by, either leaving or going home. Peter would welcome him with open arms and Whiskey would be so happy, running around and jumping with joy, a feeling I wish I could experience with Peter.

Peter: Haha, very funny. Anyways, wanna come over? Aunt May is making (your favorite meal), your favorite.

Y/N: Peter, you know I can’t. I haven’t been able to in the past, what makes you think I can now?

Peter: I don’t know. A guy can hope, ya know? He seemed very disappointed. Seems like an ongoing emotion.

Y/N: I get it. You know I do. I’m gonna go shower before dinner. I’ll talk to you later, Peter. Hanging up, the sadness and disappointment worse than before, I climb back through my window, Whiskey following behind, but not without missing the same expression on Peter’s face as was on mine.

Hearing knocking on the bathroom door, “Y/N, dinner’s ready. I’m leaving for my night shift. I’ll see you in the morning.” Mom mentioned as I stood in the shower, the warm water cascading over my face and body, calming music playing in the background as I contemplate my life, or lack thereof.

I don’t answer her. She knows I won’t. She works at a hospital a few blocks away. Every night she works the night shift, sometimes taking some day shifts every now and then. She likes to stay home with me, just in case I need anything, and then she works while I’m asleep.

Staying in the shower a few minutes longer, I step out, wrap myself in a warm towel, wringing my hair out and walk into my room to dress in some comfy clothes. I pick up my phone to see I have a text from mom.

You know I’m just trying to keep you safe right? I love you and I don't want anything to happen to you.

I understand where she’s coming from. I always have. But, it’s just so irrational, her wanting to keep me inside all the time.

I know, mom. I love you, too. Have a nice shift. See you later. I text back. I guide myself to the dining room to grab some dinner, which, coincidentally, was meatloaf and mashed potatoes. Grabbing some grape soda from the fridge, I make my way back to my room to see Whiskey eating his food. Mom probably fed him before she left. Sitting at my desk, I put on a movie to watch, putting my feet up, and enjoying dinner.

That was until something hit my window. I ignored it, thinking it was some kids from the lower floors somehow throwing rocks at the weird girls’ window, and taking another bite of dinner. But, when it happened again, I set my food down, paused my movie, and went to my window, only to see Peter hanging from the rooftop in front of my window.

#peter parker #peter x reader #peter parker iamgines #spiderman #spiderman imagines #angst

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jacksficrecs · 5 years

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In Hopes That You Remember Me - Chapter One

PROMPT: Tony in the Hospital + Steve being guilty

A/N: This is one of my first attempts to learn how to write a decent story again. Enjoy.

POSSIBLE TRIGGER WARNINGS: [for the rest of the story] Depression, Trauma, Amnesia, Comatose

STATUS: Ongoing, Unedited

---

Steve has never felt this nervous before.

He stared at himself in the mirror, water dripping from his chin. Tonight was the night.

He remembered the day his relationship with Tony was revealed to the public. Tony had decided it was a good time to sneak a kiss on the taller man's cheek while they looked around a quaint little bookstore just some blocks away from the tower. They could have bought books online, but you know, going outside every once in a while is never a bad thing. Of course, someone had spotted them, took several pictures of him pulling the brunette into a hug and offering a kiss on the forehead before stepping back to take another book of the shelf, he presumed. The next thing they new, it was all over the web. It was posted on any social media platform you can name, and unsurprisingly enough, it gained a lot of attention. Steve wasn't ready to 'come out of the closet' yet, as they say, but he didn't have much of a choice. The public already found out, so he might as well confirm their speculations.

'Steve Rogers and Tony Stark: The Most Iconic Power Couple of the Month'

The two read the article together. It was amusing, to say the least. Very amusing to see the media go crazy over a gay superhero couple. Kind of upsetting to see the close-minded people rant over how they're setting a bad example for the younger generation that looked up to them. Homophobia could never be erased, he supposed.

There was a knock on the bathroom door. "Knock, knock, Capsicle. You done putting on your makeup yet?" Tony hums from the other side. Steve simply smiled at that, shaking his head. "Hang on, Tony. I'll be out in a second." He responded, taking the towel he had hanging on the towel rack installed into the tiled wall and drying himself off. "You better be. I'm about to fall off what you're telling me to hang onto." Steve only chuckled quietly. This was the man he loved. This sarcastic little son of a bitch.

"Cap! Come on, snap out of it! We need you-" A voice calls from the distance, though he couldn't quite place who or where it was coming from.

"Ready for our first date?" The Stark smiled warmly when the blonde finally exits the bathroom, fully dressed in the blue suit Tony's picked out for him. "Ready as I'll ever be." Steve replied easily, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Still not going to tell me where we're going for tonight?" "No. Don't you know what a surprise is, Rogers?"

"Steve!" The same voice. Louder this time. What was happening?

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever. Let's go." Steve laughed, rolling his eyes as the shorter man led him towards the door with a big, content smile.

---

"Steve." His eyes opened. He was back in the real world. Gunshots were heard. Explosions. The familiar whine of the Iron Man suit's repulsors powering itself up into the air. "Wh- What-" The blonde started questioning the events, eyes bleary as he tried to process who he was talking to. Natasha. "Steve. You're alright." The redhead sighed in relief, eyes scanning the blonde for any serious issues. "Nat-" He mumbles, swallowing the knot in his throat. It's all coming back to him now. He was in the middle of a battle. He was supposed to be fighting off his HYDRA twin. Speaking of the guy, where was he?

And what did he do to him?

"Steve. I need you to tell me what he did." Her green eyes were full of worry. "What did you see?" "First date with Tony." He answered quickly, grunting as he pushed himself up onto his elbows. He needs to get back into the fight. The others needed him. They needed his help. "Reenaction." The blonde added, forcing himself to stand, using his shield to assist him. God, everything hurt. "Steve, wait," She places a hand on his arm. Steve's attention shifts back towards the spy accompanying him. The earth shakes, and the hulk's yells were heard from a distance. "Nat, we need to get back to-" "Steve. What do you remember him doing? What was the last thing you remember him doing to trigger... Whatever happened to you?" She questioned. It really did seem like an important question. He stood silent for a moment, eyebrows knitting together as he dug through his scattered thoughts and memories, trying to pull something out. "I-"

"Steve?" He turns his head. Natasha. But Natasha was right there, right beside him. He looks back at the redhead that still had her hand resting on his arm. She didn't have the scar from the last fight on her collarbone. He reacted immediately.

Nat's double landed a hard hit on his temple.

All went black.

---

There was a painful ringing in his ears.

Dazed, Steve opens his eyes, finding himself on the ground, in the middle of a battlefield, with large pieces of debris scattered around him. Since when did he get there? Was the fight over? Head pounding and ears still ringing, he struggles to prop himself up on his elbows to get a clearer view of his surroundings. How long has he been lying there? There was a fire in the distance, or at least, he assumed there was judging by the smoke rising up into the sky. A quinjet had crashed nearby and was a total wreck, leaving several of its pieces everywhere. There wasn't really a lot happening by this point. A couple of tree branches were scattered here and there, and glass and concrete from the few buildings (that were very tall, mind you) decorated the ground. Clint was on the other side of the field, helping Natasha back on her feet. The Hulk was nowhere to be seen, probably off to calm himself down, and Thor was somewhere in the sky, as indicated by the low rumble of thunder off in the distance. Why he was still up there, he didn't know. All he knew was that the battle was over. Thank God. Everything seemed okay.

And then, the realization hits him.

Tony. He wasn't there. He wasn't anywhere to be seen.

With a quiet huff, he pushed himself off the ground a bit too quickly, resulting in a bad headache and a brief moment of vertigo, but he really couldn't care enough. All he could think of was Tony's whereabouts and his well-being. God, what if he's hurt? Disregarding the pain he felt in almost every part of his body and the fact that breathing was just painful, he immediately went to approach both the Black Widow and her good friend, Hawkeye with a bit of a grimace. "Barton, Romanoff." The blonde greets the two, his voice sounding rather hoarse. "Captain." The two spies nod, casually brushing themselves off as if they'd done nothing but trip. "Any of you know where Iron Man's gone?" He asked, his gloved hands finding their way to the belt strapped around his waist. "Nope," Natasha replied simply. "Last time I saw him he was up in the air dancing with his evil twin." Steve's heart dropped. Where could they have gone then?

Once HYDRA got their hands on Tony, they were in big trouble. That man stores a lot of important information in his head. If they ever got it out of him, the team (and probably the entire human race) will be royally fucked. The Avengers will no longer be seen as heroes. Their reputations will drop like a boulder in water as soon as HYDRA released their 'new and improved' creations. Their counterparts. Hell, they might even be stronger than the actual Avengers. IF they got everything out of Tony. But Steve doubts that'll ever happen. Tony was a strong man. And painfully stubborn, might he add. But HYDRA had their ways to get someone to comply. Mind-Control, Brainwash, Torture, you name it. Tony might be strong, but one of their methods could potentially break him. He ran a hand through the tousled nest of hair resting on top of his head, releasing a heavy, painful sigh as his gaze shifts to the ground. "Right. Okay, Thank you. Um... Go contact SHIELD for me, will you? I have a feeling we weren't the only ones here when our 'friends' came for a visit." The Captain says, letting a bit of a commanding tone lace into his voice, trying to maintain the 'Leader' image he was supposed to have even though he knew it was useless. Clint and Natasha knew just how scared he was. He was fucking terrified. Worried. Hell, he was panicking. He just had to find Tony. He had to.

Both spies replied with simple 'Alright's and 'Okay's, sharing a look before going off to deliver his commands while checking around to see if there were any poor souls that needed their assistance. Steve's gone off to look for that one brunette that always seemed to be getting in trouble. With a throbbing headache and hell-giving rib, he goes on to search for his lovely idiot.

---

"Steve!" Natasha's voice crackled through the earpiece. "Yeah?" "It's Tony. We found him." She sounded almost breathless as if she just ran a marathon. Three, actually. "What? Where?" He asks, his heart suddenly picking up the speed as he leaves the injured man he pulled out from under some rubble in the care of the parademics, turning to take another scan of the field where a major clean-up process organized by SHIELD was taking place. "Your three o'clock. Parademics are taking care of him. He's breathing, but..." Her worry was palpable by the way she speaks, and at that, Steve suddenly felt like he wasn't going to like what he was about to discover. Was it bad? What happened to him? "I think you should see for yourself. It's not that horrible, but it's... Something." She didn't know how to say it. She didn't want to be the one to deliver the bad news. "Yeah, okay. I'm coming." Comes his simple reply, voice breaking, spotting the redhead near a group of uniformed parademics who offered a small wave at the captain. The blonde jogs his way over, worry and fear becoming more and more noticeable as he got closer. The Iron Man suit lies near a pile of rubble, lifeless, the blue in its eyes, reactor and repulsors non-existent. A large chunk of the titanium-alloy armor was missing, probably shot off. In other words, it was in pretty bad shape. And then there was Tony himself, eyes closed, breathing slow and not so steady, blood staining the ripped clothes he barely managed to throw on before the battle was called, red staining the side of his head, seeping out onto the ground where he lay. There was quite a lot of bustle as they worked to track the brunette's wounds and give them attention, which they did in record time. Steve's heart practically broke. In all the battles they've fought together, he's never seen Tony in this state, and that was beyond terrifying. Natasha appeared beside the taller blonde, smiling rather sadly. "I'm sorry, Steve. He'll be alright. He'll be back to himself in no time, alright?" She says, in a fruitless effort to comfort him. The supersoldier couldn't speak, so he simply nodded, eyes still set on the brunette in the parademics' care.

The next few hours were a blur of activity. The EMTs taking Tony into an ambulance, requesting a teammate to tag along (Steve did just that, telling the others to still report to Fury on their behalf, asked them to tell the director what had happened, that he would get in touch as soon as news comes available), the brunette being taken to the OR, leaving the Captain to wait anxiously. He was seated on one of the armchairs set against the wall, bothered by the fact that he was still wearing his uniform, not as clean as he'd like to be. He received some treatment for his own minor wounds (well, as minor as a broken rib can go), and he was very much thankful for that despite knowing they would be gone in a few hours. The blonde's shield rests against the wall, occupying the empty space behind him as he fiddles with the pages of those magazines the hospital provided, trying his best to reassure himself that Tony would walk away from this just fine. Occasionally, a child and an adult would enter the room, with the kid eyeing the supersoldier curiously, probably wondering why he was here, of all places. At least, that's what he assumed. He did hear about some children talking about how superheroes didn't need anyone to give them medical attention because they were so 'cool' and 'strong'. It didn't make much sense, but he let them believe what they want to believe.

Time went on, and Steve spent it suffering quietly with everyone that went in and out of the waiting room. He was growing restless, but he refused to leave Tony. He will wait as long as he needed to for Tony's reappearance.

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