‘tomboy’ Literally Was Just Parent Code For ‘awwww This Child Is Gay, Now Lets Never Address It

The Dark Trio

((Based off this text post))

Harry was sweet to Hagrid, he actually liked him more then he liked most people, however when Harry and Hagrid parted at King’s Cross, Harry felt like most of the kids there with their families and their happy goodbyes weren’t for him. Harry dragged his trunk aboard and found a compartment. About 5 minutes later the boy from the robes shop entered, the one with the blonde hair and the sharp nose. He sat and slowly a couple bigger boys entered and a girl with sharp facial features and dark hair. He learnt the boys were Crabbe and Goyle, and the girl was Pansy, the boy from the robe shop he knew was Draco Malfoy. 

He learn’t a lot about Hogwarts, how they all wanted Slytherin, it was noble and that’s where the ambitious and cunning belonged. Harry liked the sound of that.

-

The sorting hat took a minute to place Harry, however he was so excited about Slytherin, and the hat could see it would make him great, so moments later it shouted out “SLYTHERIN!”

Harry joined his new friends to watch the rest of the sorting, across from him was another girl, Hermione Granger, who caused quite the scene when she was sorted Slytherin, Harry would soon find out it was because she was Muggleborn. The other surprise came when Ron Weasley was sorted Slytherin, the other Weasleys, a blood traitor family, were Gryffindors, for centuries. 

They all ended up being friends and dorm mates, it didn’t take long for Harry, Ron and Hermione to become close as they were the outcasts, since Harry was technically from a blood traitor family and was raised by muggles. 

Hermione was the brightest witch of her age and it only took 3 untraceable poisons slipped into peoples pumpkin juice and a handful of painful curses for the Slytherins to stop bullying muggle born’s half-blood’s and blood traitors, because Hermione knew the dark, forbidden magic.She also knew not to get caught. The teachers all adored smart, clever Hermione, Snape however kept a close eye on her enjoyment of the restricted section. Noting all the dark magic that must be floating around her bright head. 

Ron wanted desperately to get out of his family’s shadow, Ron had a dark way about him he always thought about the most traumatic, painful and long lasting ways to hex and get back at people. Harry often had to reign in his mates mind and thoughts. Ron casted his first dark spell, the power of it left them unable to speak about it, they were all blown away by the power held in this little group.

Harry had the drive to be great, admired, the want to be free and the thick skin.

Hermione had the knowledge, the need to change the world and was just mad enough to do it.

Ron had the power and little conscience.

The Wizarding World didn’t notice Quirell was found in a dungeon no sign of trauma but undoubtedly dead. When Lockhart was found in his study, hanging sideways from his chair a goblet on the floor. No one knows about Snape finding the trio walking away from the forbidden forest and the body of a man named Peter who is bloodied with gashes from the darkest and most painful of magic, Ron’s hands soaked with blood inside his pockets. The remains of Umbridge turn even the most experienced aurors away, and that one made Hermione a bit mad, the magic she used was dark and the torture maddening.

By the time Voldemort rises to power the trio have killed, hexed and poisoned their way to the top. They don’t need a school full of loyal students, or an ill advised head master. He faces a bright young witch, with untamed hair and a sheen to her eye that gives her the look of being mad, which she totally is. A wizard who prefers blood, and pain to clean lethal spells and can manipulate people, using any means necessary and a boy, broken and ambitious enough for the lot of them who has won their loyalty and keeps them going.

Together they defeat Voldemort, and no one innocent dies. 

sometimes i say things on twitter and then make a little graph about it

The NEW poster for Star Wars: Ep IX - The Rise Of Skywalker that debuted at D23 Expo, Aug 24th 2019.

Ppl who only ship in canon

you know that catco employees are already groaning whenever Kara walks into the office with a new hairstyle or a new outfit bc they know they're going have to put up with their boss staring like she's never seen a woman before

Kara Danvers is, objectively speaking, an incredibly worthy object of one’s workplace crush.

Most of CatCo’s employees will readily admit that they’ve all been there: Kara Danvers is lovely and kind, she has the nicest laugh, she’s practically sunshine personified. She remembers people’s birthdays, brings them coffee unasked, and attempts to temper Cat Grant’s wrath whenever it threatens to strike. Even when she gets bumped to junior reporter, she’s still the same charming goofball, only she now rushes in and out of the building chasing stories  with a vengeance instead of lattes. Who could ever resist a crush on her?

Most of CatCo’s employees, however, will also hasten to point out that they could at least keep their infatuation to a reasonable level.

When Lena Luthor first walks into the CatCo bullpen, heading towards Kara without sparing a look for anyone else, the bullpen falls so deadly silent for a second, the clicking of her Louboutins is the only sound that can be heard. Then they all go back to acting totally, extremely normal, as if the most notorious new citizen of National City (a billionaire tech genius at that) isn’t flirting up a storm with a cub reporter right before their very eyes. They only snicker about the gala invitation in a very restrained way, with the appropriate amount of concern and jealousy, Luthor sure knows what connections she needs, Danvers better look out and You’d be trying to make that connection too if you were in her position.

Then the visits become a regular occurrence. 

Lena Luthor, CEO of a Fortune 500 company and a staple of 30 under 30 lists, shows up every week, and patiently waits around till Kara, who earnestly says golly and has to be reminded that exclusive is spelled without a ‘k’, stumbles across her. She beams at Kara’s rambling, laughs delightedly at her bad puns, calls her darling in a tone of voice that makes eavesdroppers blush, and bites her lip like she knows exactly what it is that she’d like to devour, and it’s certainly not the vegan bar that she’s dragging Kara away to for lunch. (CatCo refuses to publish the paparazzi shots that surface every third day of the week, but other outlets are not so squeamish.) And Kara meets her every step of the way, face lighting up whenever she sees Lena (even on TV, some note), hugging her tightly with every hello and goodbye even longer than necessary. She gushes about Lena’s projects and meets Lena’s own compliments to her writing with bashful smiles and fidgeting hands. Properly and utterly enamored.

The office settles into the new status quo, young love and all, though it seems to be incredibly slow-burning, with the entirety of CatCo (and likely half of L-Corp) getting front-row tickets to its process. Snapper mumbles about professional boundaries. People start a betting pool, and stare at Kara with a bit more hopeless yearning when she storms past them to greet Lena with a wide smile.

But then, there’s something else that changes with their courtship: Kara starts to get dapper.

She’s already looked unreasonably dashing in thin cardigans and pastel button-ups before, drawing dreamy sighs from the interns she’d stroll past. Now, it’s starting to verge on it’s a public menace to look that hot. The shirts get tighter, more crisp, and with it, her biceps and powerful shoulders considerably more accentuated. Well-tailored jackets start to make an appearance in her wardrobe, along with slim ties (their quirky patterns a testament to Kara’s nature), and elegantly knit jumpers come winter. And Kara starts to stand a little taller, too, shoulders squared and chin held high, her steps ever so slightly wider and more confident every time she has to chase after Snapper in one of their daily bouts.

The effect of it in the office is most profound. A rolled-up shirtsleeve and a hint of tensing muscles, and Jen at the art department almost scraps a magazine cover in her stupor. An unbuttoned collar and loosened tie at a late night editorial meeting, and Mackenzie nearly pours her coffee into her lap. 

And the very cause of this upheaval is certainly not immune to Kara’s newfound charms, either. There’s already been plenty of physical affection between the pair, as most of the office and a whole wealth of pap photos would attest, but now, it’s bordering on handsiness. Lena takes any opportunity to squeeze Kara’s arm, run a hand over her shoulder, or rest a hand on her forearm as they talk, and the bullpen grows green with jealousy.

When Cat Grant departs for the White House and L-Corp swoops in for the acquisition, the mood turns explosive.

Any illusions about the lovebirds keeping things more strictly professional with the change of management are shattered when Kara strides into the boss’ office with a gift-wrapped planner, all giddy, only to be greeted with their usual hug. Someone lets out a groan.

It only gets expectably worse.

It’s no fault of Lena Luthor’s overall management style – she’s a decent boss, a shockingly good one, even, if one considers the family name and all its implications, and infinitely milder than Miss Grant had been. But there’s only so many times one can witness their chief blushing in the middle of a meeting, or get lost in impure thought staring through the glass walls of the boardroom, out into the bullpen where the office heartthrob is currently stretching, providing an ample view of her entire upper body musculature. There’s only so many times they can watch Lena lean against Kara’s desk and reach down to gently smooth out her shirt’s collar or fiddle with the lapels of her jacket as they talk. At some point, Lena helping Kara tie the bespoke silk tie that she’s recently gifted her after a trip to Italy, batting away her “Lena, you really shouldn’t have” with “Nonsense, darling” and then stopping to fiddle with the damn thing, staring up at Kara with that unmistakably smitten expression becomes just another Tuesday morning at CatCo.

To say that there is a sigh of relief once news of CatCo once again changing hands start to spread is no understatement.

Andrea Rojas seems like a hardass and people start to feel a sense of comfort. She’s a businesswoman through and through, one whose ideas about running the place might be battled, but one who certainly won’t be head over heels for a pair of pretty blue eyes and jacked arms.

Antsiness and relief thus both settle over the first office-wide meeting Ms Rojas calls, preparing to address the entire staff. The first couple of sentences are delivered smoothly, with none of the longing looks cast into the crowd towards a certain blonde that they’ve had to get used to before, and people are starting to feel safe.

Then, getting to the meat of her speech, Andrea Rojas takes a breath and turns towards where the cream of CatCo’s crop is gathered, with Kara Danvers standing at the very front, arms crossed, navy suit hugging her imposing figure tightly, forehead crinkled in annoyed concentration.

Andrea Rojas looks, then looks again, and skids to a halt, lips parting as she takes in the view. Twelve seconds go by, an agonizing eternity, before she’d continue her speech, her gaze returning to Kara again and again.

“If you have any questions about the future of CatCo, I’d be happy to hear them now,” she finishes. “Or in my office, if you’d prefer to sound your concerns in private.”

She looks around, almost haughty before she’d turn her gaze to Kara again, biting her lip as they lock eyes, and someone in the back finally decides to give voice to what they’re all feeling:

"Oh, for fuck’s sake!”

I love how Kara just loves to taunt Lex with the fact that Lena is on her side. Like she knows how much he hates it.

She did it when she revealed Lena made her K-Proof suit in season 4.

"You can thank your sister for this."

And now again.

"You're predictable. You can thank your sister for proving that."

It gives off the same energy of: "Your daughter calls me Daddy too."

It's like she's basically rubbing it in his face that Lena has been and always will be hers and Lex can die mad about it.

What if, when Petunia Dursley found a little boy on her front doorstep, she took him in? Not into the cupboard under the stairs, not into a twisted childhood of tarnished worth and neglect–what if she took him in?

Petunia was jealous, selfish and vicious. We will not pretend she wasn’t. She looked at that boy on her doorstep and thought about her Dudders, barely a month older than this boy. She looked at his eyes and her stomach turned over and over. (Severus Snape saved Harry’s life for his eyes. Let’s have Petunia save it despite them).

Let’s tell a story where Petunia Dursley found a baby boy on her doorstep and hated his eyes–she hated them. She took him in and fed him and changed him and got him his shots, and she hated his eyes up until the day she looked at the boy and saw her nephew, not her sister’s shadow. When Harry was two and Vernon Dursley bought Dudley a toy car and Harry a fast food meal with a toy with parts he could choke on Petunia packed her things and got a divorce.

Harry grew up small and skinny, with knobbly knees and the unruly hair he got from his father. He got cornered behind the dumpsters and in the restrooms, got blood on the jumpers Petunia had found, half-price, at the hand-me-down store. He was still chosen last for sports. But Dudley got blood on his sweaters, too, the ones Petunia had found at the hand-me-down store, half price, because that was all a single mother working two secretary jobs could afford for her two boys, even with Vernon’s grudging child support.

They beat Harry for being small and they laughed at Dudley for being big, and slow, and dumb. Students jeered at him and teachers called Dudley out in class, smirked over his backwards letters.

Harry helped him with his homework, snapped out razored wit in classrooms when bullies decided to make Dudley the butt of anything; Harry cornered Dudley in their tiny cramped kitchen and called him smart, and clever, and ‘better ‘n all those jerks anyway’ on the days Dudley believed it least.

Dudley walked Harry to school and back, to his advanced classes and past the dumpsters, and grinned, big and slow and not dumb at all, at anyone who tried to mess with them.

But was that how Petunia got the news? Her husband complained about owls and staring cats all day long and in the morning Petunia found a little tyke on her doorsep. This was how the wizarding world chose to give the awful news to Lily Potter’s big sister: a letter, tucked in beside a baby boy with her sister’s eyes.

There were no Potters left. Petunia was the one who had to arrange the funeral. She had them both buried in Godric’s Hollow. Lily had chosen her world and Petunia wouldn’t steal her from it, not even in death. The wizarding world had gotten her sister killed; they could stand in that cold little wizard town and mourn by the old stone.

(Petunia would curl up with a big mug of hot tea and a little bit of vodka, when her boys were safely asleep, and toast her sister’s vanished ghost. Her nephew called her ‘Tune’ not 'Tuney,’ and it only broke her heart some days.

Before Harry was even three, she would look at his green eyes tracking a flight of geese or blinking mischieviously back at her and she would not think 'you have your mother’s eyes.’

A wise old man had left a little boy on her doorstep with her sister’s eyes. Petunia raised a young man who had eyes of his very own).

Petunia snapped and burnt the eggs at breakfast. She worked too hard and knew all the neighbors’ worst secrets. Her bedtime stories didn’t quite teach the morals growing boys ought to learn: be suspicious, be wary; someone is probably out to get you. You owe no one your kindness. Knowledge is power and let no one know you have it. If you get can get away with it, then the rule is probably meant for breaking.

Harry grew up loved. Petunia still ran when the letters came. This was her nephew, and this world, this letter, these eyes, had killed her sister. When Hagrid came and knocked down the door of some poor roadside motel, Petunia stood in front of both her boys, shaking. When Hagrid offered Harry a squashed birthday cake with big, kind, clumsy hands, he reminded Harry more than anything of his cousin.

His aunt was still shaking but Harry, eleven years and eight minutes old, decided that any world that had people like his big cousin in it couldn’t be all bad. “I want to go,” Harry told his aunt and he promised to come home.

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She finally has pants! And not a skirt!

Literally me 

Me at 14 years old playing as female Shepard in Mass Effect and realising I could romance Liara like