#Loan Organisation

[loanorganisation0]

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[awesomecooperlove]

HERE’S HOW THE BANKING SYSTEM WORKS

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[wannaeatramyeon]

DG x Reader: Manager and their Idol

8.5k. G/N. Soft, colleagues to lover (guess I love this trope). Masterlists

You had imagined life as a K-Pop idol manager to be much more glamorous.

You pity your young naive self. The one that envisaged schmoozing with stars and rubbing elbows with the movers and shakers, and instead set you on this horrid, lacklustre path.

What you didn't expect was the amount of time playing driver. Carting that stupid pink haired brat around. Waiting on him hand and foot during shoots and interviews, and being at his beck and call.

You have saved his ass more times than you can recall, ran through scripts with him, practised his stupid dances and moves alongside, protected him from unhinged fans and reporters and scavengers.

And yet you can count on one hand the amount of times he has thanked you.

Actually no, it didn't require any hands because he has thanked you exactly zero times for all your early mornings and late nights and for going above and beyond your duty.

Out of desperation, you had asked your boss if you could manage someone else and the request was declined.

"DG has taken a liking to you," she said, tone impressed as if that was something you should be proud of.

"Great," your smile comes out as more of a grimace.

And goddamn, this agency was so stupidly prestigious and the benefits and perks here really are second to none. Just why did Diego fucking Kang have to be their top idol.

.

.

The first time you crossed the threshold into his building, greeting the reception security guard and entering his penthouse keycode like you had been let in on the world's greatest secret, you had tiptoed around like a child in a museum. After all, this was DG's residence. The DG!

You had ooh-ed and aah-ed at every little thing. 

Taking delight in seeing his interior design of choice, the type of candy that he snacks on, the shampoo and conditioner he uses, the way he organises his desk. This is the chair DG sits on to eat. This is the sofa DG lounges on to watch TV. This is the bed he sleeps in, the bath he uses, the toilet he-

Any wide eyed innocence and awe evaporated after your first week working together.

Today, you stab in the entry code and let the door shut with a bang. 

You set his now cold coffee order on the kitchen counter and rifle with practised fingers through his unopened mail to see if there is anything you should draw his immediate attention to. You pick up his discarded clothes from the floor (and for fuck's sake, this suit jacket was on loan) and make your way to his bedroom where tufts of pink hair peeks out from under the cover.

"Good morning," you announce, locating the remote to open the blinds and letting in some sunlight.

Bedsheets rustle behind you.

"Good morning Diego," you repeat and give one warning, "I hope you're decent." With that, you throw the covers back to find the scantily dressed idol glaring up at you.

You remember the days when this sight would have made you weak at the knees. Seeing him half naked, in the flesh, freshly woken up with bedhead and half lidded eyes. It's what most of Korea dreams of, including yourself once upon a time.

Now all you feel is extreme irritation.

"Good morning," you say for the third time, plastering on a saccharine smile that you know DG sees clearly through because it is insincere as hell to anyone with half a brain cell. You let the fakeness shine through anyway.

For a split second, DG frowns as his eyes drop to your lips and then he pretends everything is good. Smiling back prettily, sharp canines on show and stretching. Lifting his arms overhead, showing a good stretch of pecs and abs and the line of muscle in a V pointing like an arrow straight down to his-

You roll your eyes.

"You're late." You throw the covers back over him and stride back towards the door. "We should have left half an hour ago." You leave out the part where you had been waiting downstairs in the car and after an hour of no show and no anything, you stomped your way up to his home.

DG, sensing your mood, adds oil to the fire with a smirk, "Why didn't you wake me then?"

If that idiot bothered to look at his phone, he would see a number of missed calls and unread messages from you.

Whatever.

"Hurry up."

.

.

DG has come across many people like yourself over the years. All cute and bright eyed, way too soft.

He never gave you any special treatment, for better or worse, and assumed that you would eventually burn out or give up and move on to something more worthwhile.

Unfortunately, in a rare turn of events, he had miscalculated.

Of course most people would be starstruck, it's only natural. But he mistook your sincerity and kind smile for ignorance and missed your sharp, observing gaze, and astute mind.

He's impressed, and he really can't remember the last time he was impressed.

In a matter of days of working together, you had managed to cut through the bullshit and within the month got him more compliant and docile than anyone else ever has.

Which should be a huge fucking problem, and raising red flags all over DG's mind.

...Except-

What's really troubling him right now, as he sulks in the passenger seat and you in the driver's, is that you have developed some sort of resistance to his charms.

Maybe a part of him does actually miss the you who he formed the first impression of. Who looked at him in wonder, with the same admiration that everyone else did.

Now that he knows you, he hates that he had thought that initial admiration was insignificant and worthless.

.

.

DG has a stash of candy in the car.

Or more accurately, you keep a stash of candy next to him to a) Shut him up and b) Keep him tolerable.

If DG wasn't so aloof, the fact that he has an incurable sweet tooth (and probably cavities to prove it) would have made headlines as a cute K-Pop fact and likely garnered sponsorship and advertising deals with all sorts of confectionary brands.

You had only found out during your adventures as his manager, rifling through his kitchen drawers trying to find his goddamn phone that he misplaced and you stumbled upon his stash of candy.

It really was a disgusting amount, something you'd expect a gaggle of grade schoolers at Halloween to hoard, not Diego goddamn Kang.

And then you also found out if he's not quiet and haughty in the car, making the atmosphere awkward, he likes to comment on your driving.

Who even sits in the passenger seat next to their 'chauffeur' anyway? He complains about you braking too suddenly and not accelerating fast enough. How you drive like an 80 year old with cataracts, and you're too slow when the light changes to green.

The turn in your relationship happened when you snapped at him to shut the fuck up after losing the final shred of your sanity on a three hour drive.

DG, to your dismay, didn’t miraculously lose his hearing and turns to you as you silently berate yourself for voicing the quiet thoughts out loud.

Although, you're in the deep end now. You're gonna get fired anyway, so if he says anything else you might as well give him a flick on the forehead or a pinch or maybe a punch to the face-

Instead, he laughs.

It's nothing like the laugh you have heard on TV and in interviews. The rehearsed and manicured 'haha' or cool chuckle that suits his shiny persona. It's kinda goofy and a lot endearing.

What's even more endearing is the way he does actually shut the fuck up for the rest of the journey. You like him a lot more after that.

So. You digress.

The candy is a way to keep the sweet toothed maniac quiet. Even if it doesn't work, at least it's harder to make out what insults he's slinging with a lollipop rattling around his mouth.

However, he has never ever shared any with you. Any of the candy that you stock, and pay for.

(That you technically claim back on company expenses, but you're trying to be self righteous here.)

Ever.

In all the months of working with him, he gobbles away happily even if your stomach is growling and you refuse to take any yourself out of principle.

Until-

"Here."

"Huh?"

Taking advantage of your response and open mouth, DG leans into your personal space and feeds you some chewy strawberry something or another (which coincidentally are his least favourite), fingers lingering on your lips for a fraction of a second.

Three things happen in quick succession.

The burst of sugar hits your tongue.

You nearly choke.

You narrowly avoid swerving.

"Careful now," DG grins when you get the car and yourself under control, and glance at him with a scowl.

Good. That proves you're not completely immune to his charms.

.

.

That bastard has now taken it upon himself to feed you candy at every opportunity.

You wonder if he's doing some sort of Pavlov experiment. The sweetness trying to erase any sourness you feel towards him.

It sort of works, and you consider biting his fingers off one of these days.

You hear the crinkling of wrappers, one for him that he pops into his mouth, and one for you that he gives without asking.

You angle your head towards him, and his fingers graze your lips every time.

Neither of you comment on the change but the intimacy drives you a little crazy.

.

.

And DG too.

Because intimacy works both ways and damnit his little gesture to keep the pretty blush on your face has backfired.

The only form of intimacy he knows comes from discreet hookups and low key links. Not someone who is around day in, day out. Or anyone that goes deeper than one night stands and booty calls.

You're there, you're always there. Of course you are, you're his manager.

But today, he feels under the microscope with you standing a couple metres away and keen eyes watching the camera monitor.

It's a no nothing day. Standard schedule where he shoots a fragrance commercial and he exits a pool all wet and sultry, white t-shirt clinging to his muscled body.

Then another scene where he writhes around slightly on a sunbed and eye-fucks the camera.

How it sells a fragrance, he never knows. The mystery of showbiz.

"Cut! More powder!" The director shouts out, the crew springing into action and DG knows exactly why.

He feels strangely embarrassed and flustered, which has manifested into his cheeks being flushed, and god he can't even remember the last time he has been like this.

It’s out of character and he needs to get his head together.

As the make up artist hurriedly dabs on some foundation, you make your way over to him.

"Are you sick?" you ask, concerned and reaching out to feel his forehead with the back of your hand.

"I'm fine," He says, turning away from your attentiveness and staring at a point in the distance.

.

.

With most people, if DG wants them out of sight, they stay out of sight.

But as his manager, and a very competent one at that, it’s harder to get you to leave.

Not that DG wants you to either, don’t get him wrong. 

The only constants he has around him are people who want something from him. And yes, he knows you’re only in his company because you work with him. However, he really can’t doubt the concern he always sees in your eyes. The compassion and empathy even when he makes you want to scream and tear your hair out.

His standoffish demeanour is not new to anyone. It’s part of his appeal to be quite honest. 

Yet he feels bad over the next couple weeks as he turns it up to eleven and tries to create some distance. He registers the hurt on your face as he is extra short with his answers and behaviour.

.

.

Pandering to overinflated celebrity egos and the insane Korean work ethic often leads to after hour shoots and dinner delayed until past midnight.

Honestly, this wreaks havoc on your sleep schedule and your skin.

"Here." You retrieve DG's takeout from the paper bag.

A double portion of delicious fried chicken with a side of kimchi and pickles. It's a change of pace from what most idols order, yet he doesn't give two shits about calories or sodium intake and to add insult to injury, somehow manages to keep his trim figure.

You lament your soggy salad sitting at the bottom. As if it’s not sad enough right now - once you arrive home, the lettuce will be wilting and room temperature and you will eat it in your dimly lit apartment with nothing to keep you company except the sound of the TV.

DG notices you turning to leave his penthouse, and his mouth moves before his brain can.

"Aren't you staying?"

"What?" You double take at the question.

DG's company is usually worse than your lonely meal for one. 

He’s annoying and you frequently want to slap him, but how he has been with you lately has been troubling and you actually feel a sense of relief at his offer.

(You had wondered if you might have been getting sacked up until this moment.)

Nevertheless, in all your time working alongside, you have never had a proper meal one on one together. Nothing more than you driving with one hand and the other hastily shoving a burger into your mouth as he looks on in disgust.

You would have dwelled on this more, wondering what's changed, what’s happened, but then-

"I'll share." DG nudges the box towards you, and the delicious scent of deep fried, battered goodness wafts along with it it

All your misgivings and your salad is forgotten.

.

.

Almost.

No, you were wrong.

Eating with DG, without any distractions such as traffic to navigate or other boisterous colleagues around, is unnerving. Disarming.

His haughtiness remains, but how haughty can someone be when munching on a drumstick.

All frostiness from the past weeks melts away as you both eat your way through his chicken.

He’s talking more tonight than you have heard in a while.

You find him funny, and really quite bitchy. Which you did know all along except it's much funnier now his slanderous comments aren't directed at you.

And has he always looked at you with such a piercing gaze? So intensely focused on what you have to say. Even if you're just complaining about your boss, blurring your lines of professionalism, he gives you his full attention.

You really can't remember the last time you have been in each other's company like this. 

You loathe to admit that even with what an asshole he is, DG's shine hasn’t dulled enough for you that you don't understand the appeal.

.

.

Leaning forward, DG whispers into your ear.

To anyone else, it looks like an over-affectionate idol with their manager. If they could hear his words, "I'm going to kill you," they would think otherwise.

Ok, so this one is your fault.

The good times have to come to an end and maybe you should have been more careful with his pride and joy - some ridiculously overpriced and over-specced vehicle.

Taking advantage of the clear blue Seoul skies, the pink haired menace was the one who drove you today in his fancy imported sports car, but the speed limits and the rest of the traffic was not on his side.

Already running late, even for him, he parked somewhere convenient and illegal then passed you the keys, leaving you stranded on the sidewalk, mouth opening and closing like a goldfish, as he strode off to meet his music producer and choreographer and left you to park his baby elsewhere.

Why he entrusted you with it, you're not sure.

You would have done it anyway though, because when else are you going to have an opportunity to drive a supercar, if your boss didn't call at that moment. Questioning your expenses and DG's schedule and confusing you about the fitting at a fashion house and hair styling appointment that you knew like the back of your hand but when someone is so confidently incorrect, you start to doubt yourself.

By the time you got off the phone after pacing up and down the street and checking and double checking DG's timetable, you finally make your way back to the car-

And see it in the middle of being compounded.

You had begged and pleaded with the two men who were having none of it and you left, tail between your legs, to beg and plead with the other man who you knew would also have none of it.

Damn, you hate it when you prove yourself right in these instances.

You know DG won't really kill you, but he will likely make your life hell for the next couple weeks.

.

.

A normal person being pissed off at you would probably result in the silent treatment until tempers cool down.

DG does the opposite. Sort of.

He takes pleasure in making things as awkward for you as possible, until you're squirming in your seat trying to stay professional, thinking about your job and your rent and your bills; or torn between wanting the ground to swallow you up.

Around other people, your boss, your colleagues, his colleagues, he sidles up to you all smiles and soft looks. Slips purposely into banmal, and then oopsy, pretends that he didn't mean to be so informal with you around others.

Gossip soon stirs about your and DG's close relationship, if there's something else going on. Only you can see the mischief in his eyes and the malice in his smile and you think about yanking him by the ear and demanding to know what he is playing at.

Alone, he denies any sort of miscreant behaviour. Barely listening to you complaining and snapping at him. Ending with him outright ignoring you and you fume even harder.

This time, you're not sure the punishment even fits the crime. 

Any guilt soon dissipates when his car is returned in perfect condition within a couple days but his performance lasts for weeks.

.

.

Teasing you has always been fun for DG - when your cheeks dust angrily with pink and your eyes burn with fire.

The equivalent of a boy pulling a girl’s pigtails in the school yard.

.

.

Meetings with HNH Group usually do not involve you. If it does, at most you are waiting in the car.

Luckily, there are also an assortment of cafes and restaurants within a stone's throw and it gives you some time to debrief and catch a breather from following DG's hectic schedule.

The downside is you're never sure if a two hour meeting will be condensed to fifteen minutes or if a quick catch up with Charles Choi and other Executives turns into an all nighter.

There's been days where you have ordered a meal, then had to abandon it with a sigh and a longing look as you spot DG striding out of the building looking pissed off that you're not already there, or stayed in the vehicle with the engine running and your stomach rumbling as short appointments overshoot.

Maybe this is another consequence from DG being petty and irate with you for getting his car towed - you're left snoozing at the steering wheel of your runaround, the idol standard-issue luxury minivan, waiting for his return.

It's far too late in the evening for anywhere to be open, only the fluorescent lights of convenience stores and glare of the HNH logo illuminates the streets.

DG opens the sliding door, climbs into the back and slams it hard enough to jerk you awake and rattle the entire van.

He’s sitting by himself in the back, which is odd enough in itself.

As you blink away the dregs of sleep, in the rearview mirror, you notice the stiffness in his shoulders and the tightness in his jaw. His eyes stare vacantly out the window. DG is clearly upset about something, enough to crack through his aloof veneer.

"Are you ok?" You don't get a response, not even a passing glance.

Obviously something has gone wrong with the HNH Group meeting and the stress has manifested.

You wrack your brains thinking of something that might cheer up this asshole and you think of the only thing that improves your mood when you're on the verge of a breakdown.

(Usually due to the aforementioned asshole in your current presence). 

"Tteokbokki and beer?" You offer. It’s past your bedtime but a sulky DG for the rest of the week will also ruin your week too.

DG briefly looks at you before going back to staring at the window. It’s not a no.

You don’t get home until past 4am that night. 

At your favourite late night hole-in-the-wall, you eat far more tteokbokki than DG. On second thoughts, you don’t remember him eating any at all. You’re talking and downing beers to fill the silence, trying to perk up this silly celebrity. Loose lipped and spilling far more details than you would if you were sober, with him seated opposite and sipping on a soda. 

As the night ticks along, he thaws and a small smile settles on his face watching you gesticulate and ramble about your life.

You don’t get home until past 4am that night-

With DG driving, piggybacking you up to your apartment, and tucking you into bed.

.

.

DG can’t stop thinking of the weight of you on his back, arms slung over his shoulders, legs at his waist and his hands gripping your thighs.

You slurring drunkenly into his ear as he climbs the stairs in your building. It’s mostly nonsense. He can’t make out your words but remembers your breath tickling his skin.

And when he wraps your duvet around you, the brief moment of lucidity in your eyes as you look at him, softer than you ever have, you tell him, “Thanks Diego.”

Diego.

.

.

Nothing changes between the two of you after this. Not really.

You still find him an enormous thorn in your side. Incredibly stuck up and haughty and you continue to want to throttle him on a weekly basis but you are immensely grateful for him not leaving you a passed out heap on the sidewalk.

You’re in the middle of chastising him once again, dragging him out of bed as he is running late and being an absolute dick about it. Taking it easy as if he has all the time in the world. 

Well of course he does. He’s not the one that will be getting an earful from your boss or on the receiving end of the production crew’s complaints, as if trying to manhandle and cart this manchild around is easy.

“Diego Kang, I swear to fucking god-”

"James." He says, interrupting you as he picks out and pulls an eye-wateringly expensive jumper over his head.

"What?"

"Call me James when it's just us.” He checks out his outfit in the mirror, seemingly satisfied with it, before moving onto his hair. “James Lee. That's my real name."

DG, or James Lee, keeps his eyes on his reflection. Inspecting his non-existent roots, styling his fringe to make it fall just so and applying a liberal amount of hair product.

Nonchalant and casual even as he offers something desperately personal about himself.

"James," you say, trying out the sound for yourself. A name that seems at odds with his loud K-Pop shell but you imagine a time before the fame and the celebrity and the pink hair and it somehow fits.

"James," you repeat, and receive a small smile in return. Then it drops as you add, “If you don’t get your ass in the car in the next five minutes I will kill you.”

.

.

“James,” you think to yourself before you drift off to sleep that night. 

How peculiar.

“James, James, James.”

.

.

Celebrities these days are multi-hyphenates.

DG is an Idol-CEO-Actor, or at least trying to add the last one onto his resume. On looks alone, he would have already gotten his foot through the door. Add on his reputation and popularity, he is drowning in offers.

What you personally dislike more with K-dramas scenes though, is how long things take. How much it revolves around other actors and their managers whereas DG being in the studio or filming a music video is pretty much all him.

This K-drama is supposed to be the next big thing. 

With the biggest names attached, including DG who is making a cameo. The cameo that was also scheduled to be filmed five hours ago but you have both just been lurking in his dressing room since.

Along with some measly snacks and refreshments, which the crew has been kind enough to provide. 

However, the snacks are all but gone (thanks to you) and the refreshments are dwindling and there is no end in sight.

DG, or James, as you have started to call him in your head, is on his phone. He’s always on his phone. Scrolling through news articles, responding to important emails and messages.

There’s only so much news or celebrity gossip you can take. You have exhausted your own social media feeds and you have spent far too much money on your gacha games and the guilt has set in.

You twiddle your thumbs on the sofa next to him as he takes no notice of your presence and you decide to rest your eyes. 

Why not anyway? DG doesn’t need anything right now, work won’t be interrupting you, and there’s nothing for you to do. Just for a minute or five. Until someone from the production team knocks on the door and announces that it’s time for his scene.

DG side-eyes you when he notices your breath start to slow and deepen. Falling asleep on the job, really?

Then you let out a snore before smacking your lips together a couple times and he holds back a snort. He reasons that he should let you have some time to rest. After all, you’re the one that drives him around, his life is in your hands everyday and tiredness kills.

He’s on his phone for a few more minutes, reading through more emails on PTJ Entertainment and out of the corner of his eye he notices you drooping.

Body slowly slumping to slouch over him, until your head makes contact with his shoulder and you’re snoozing happily on your newfound pillow.

It’s equal parts inappropriate and cute.

Ugh, DG is 99% sure you’re drooling on him and the wardrobe department isn’t going to be happy when he returns the outfit.

Either way, that’s not going to be his problem. He adjusts minutely, makes it just a touch more comfortable for you and continues to scroll.

.

.

You wake up to a wetness by your mouth, and to your horror, DG smirking down at you.

.

.

Despite none of this being your fault, you apologise to everyone about having to reschedule DG’s music video shoot due to the previous day’s K-drama delays.

To your relief, the music video goes swimmingly and without a hitch, and the production is wrapped up on time. 

You’ll happily bet that his new song will go straight to No.1. If not, then at least the sensual music video will guarantee DG remains top of mind for weeks. 

You’re updating your boss and even she seems to be pleased.

"This is just work." DG interrupts as you're mid call.

You look up at him, brows furrowed.

Holding your hand to your phone to mute the speaker, you whisper, "I know."

"Good," and he walks away leaving you as confused as ever.

It's not the first time you have seen him shoot an MV, which thank the heavens is so much more efficient than bloody k-dramas, and also not the first time that there's been scenes that emulate an intimate moment. Lips nearly brushing together. Hands roaming bodies under fake rain.

Even if DG notices that you're watching the scene, eyes glazed over and bored, he still felt the urge to explain to you that there's nothing between you and the leading lady in the video.

Once out of sight of everyone, he facepalms himself for his ridiculousness.

.

.

You’re right, and you absolutely love it when you’re right.

The song goes straight to No.1 and holds that position for weeks, fending off competition from boy bands and girl groups and other solo artists. Apparently it’s going to be the song of the summer.

The music video also breaks records for being the most watched within 24 hours.

DG only reviews it once for post-production checks and finds it just fine.

There’s something he can’t quite put his finger on that seems off with it.

He wonders what it would look like if it was you starring opposite him.

.

.

“Where on earth is he?” You grit your teeth and grip harder onto the umbrella that is threatening to be swept away by the wind.

And another thing with being DG’s manager: it’s fine if he’s late but not if it’s you.

(Although to be fair, this instance of him being late is likely due to this particular music producer he’s meeting with enjoying the sound of his own voice.)

You were running late exactly one time in the past, during the first couple days of managing him, when the skies opened and drenched the earth. 

Heavens forbid DG’s perfect, beautiful, flawless hair is ruined by the rain. 

It’s not like he looked like a drowned rat. The paparazzi caught him in a wet t-shirt, fabric clinging to his abs and his pink hair slicked back stylishly. Even the goddamn raindrops were running fashionably down his high cheekbones and dripping off his pout.

For the next week, the tabloids and internet forums went wild with how hot he looked. 

(Who knows, maybe that was the inspiration for his fragrance commercial.)

Nevertheless, DG was displeased and it made its way back to your boss how displeased he was.

Ever since, you have been the unfortunate soul waiting in all manners of weather for him. Rain storms, blistering sun, freezing snow.

Today, it’s your favourite. Rain. You shiver against the elements trying to take shelter under the building entrance canopy, the wind whipping the downpour every which way and you’re getting soaked regardless of how you angle your umbrella.

“Hurry up, DG.”

You check the time over and over. He would be early to his next appointment if he exited the building now. 

…On time.

…On time if the traffic was in your favour.

…Late, but not terribly so.

…Fashionably late.

… Late enough to piss everyone off in the room.

Shit. Just as you begin to fret, wondering if something has happened to him-

Clicks and flashes from cameras alert you to his royal highness finally making an appearance, ready to exit the studio and making his way over to the car.

He materialises by your side, and you mutter a familiar phrase to him. 

“You’re late.” 

It’s a mantra you’re tired of repeating, but he relishes if the amused grin is any indication.

Without a word, he takes off his trench coat and drapes it around your shoulders. His right hand covers yours over the umbrella handle, left wrapping around your waist as he guides you through the throng of reporters and fans.

“What are you doing?” You hiss under your breath. 

You can imagine the optics now from the papers and your boss. It looks… Well. Not terrible but not the best.

“You’re soaked,” is all DG provides, accompanied with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. 

He opens the driver’s door for you before he climbs into the passenger’s side.

.

.

Thank goodness for your gift of the gab.

He’s being a gentleman, you tell everyone that would listen. Isn’t this what Korea wants? An idol with manners and who looks after everyone? Is empathetic and caring?

Think how well it would resonate with the female demographic, who wants a boyfriend like this! The older boomer demographic, who thinks none of the young ‘uns have any manners anymore!

Your boss isn’t convinced until the advertising offers for umbrella companies roll in.

.

.

Truth be told, DG doesn’t know what possessed him to do that. Especially in front of cameras.

Though, it’s not like he could just let you get even more drenched could he? You’re standing there, looking pitiful and he was just going to let you hold the umbrella over him when he should be the one taking care of you-

Hold on.

DG frowns at himself.

Damn.

.

.

James Lee has never looked after anyone besides himself. You need to look after yourself if you are to survive this dog eat dog world. To make it atop the Pre-Generation, the First Generation and now the Second.

He had unfathomably high expectations of himself (that he managed to achieve) and low expectations for relationships (that hadn’t been proven wrong yet).

People have flitted in and out of the chapters of his life, no-one staying around for long. Definitely no-one staying around long enough to know him, for him to grow comfortable with. 

Perhaps it has been the forced closeness that has caused him to let his guard down. Cabin fever, in a sense.

But James Lee, Diego Kang, has himself also been around long enough to know there’s more to you and he wants more of you.

.

.

Finding reasons to spend time together isn’t difficult. Actually, finding reasons to spend time apart would be much harder.

You both get on with your jobs and your duties, even as the closeness grows day by day.

And every time when you’re alone and you call him James, his heart grows fonder.

.

.

Out of all the seats available in his apartment, James lounges next to you, long legs draping over yours.

It's another night in together.

These seem to be happening with increasing frequency. DG at least used to keep up appearances, networking with his fellow celebrities.

Parties where you used to look at him with distaste as starlets surrounded him, award shows that he couldn't care less about as you hung around in the background.

Now he prefers to stay in with you, using work as a thin excuse. Studying lyrics that he has already memorised, going over dances that are long ingrained in him.

"You're not going to her party?" You ask, you were sure this fan-favourite and DG were an item or had history. At the very least, the who's who of the industry always attended her gatherings.

"No," his eyes continue roving over the lines.

Then when you thought the conversation was done, he looks over the top of his paper, eyes sparkling with playfulness, "I prefer being here with you."

Oh. Your breath catches in your throat.

You think you might never breathe normally again.

.

.

No, that’s a lie. Any opportunities for rose-tinted glasses has long passed by. You both know each other too well for that.

You breathe perfectly fine. Actually, this morning you are taking deep breaths to try and centre yourself. 

It’s not working. 

“You’re always fucking late,” you snap, giving in to your anger.

Sometimes you think it is your fault for not watching over DG 24/7. That instead of going back home, you should just live with him so you can shake him awake when he is supposed to get up instead of when he wants to.

And does it hurt him to look the least bit contrite at making your life a misery? 

Why does he have to look so smug with a lollipop stick hanging out his mouth? Seriously, between all the rushing around this morning, when did he find time to look for goddamn candy?

“For fuck’s sake, James.” You’re speed walking towards his front door, looking at the Maps app on your phone and miss his smile at you snarling his name. 

You’re already running behind and every route to the recording studio is red due to roadworks or an accident or just plain ol’ congestion. “Shit!”

Your finger jabs at the elevator button multiple times.

“It’s not going to get there any quicker if you do that,” DG speaks lowly into your ear and you get the urge to pinch him.

Instead of prodding some more at the button, you turn around and prod him in the chest.

“You’re going to get me fired one of these days,” You growl. “It’s fine for you, Diego goddamn Kang, the star who is pretty much untouchable. I’m not. I’m replaceable. There’s a million people who would take my job-”

DG snatches your hand, holds it still. “You’re not replaceable.” Then adds with an infuriating grin, “So what if we’re late.”

The minivan is skipped, and his answer to your problem is his other pride and joy. A motorbike that looks far too aggressive and a complete death trap.

“I’m not getting on that,” you say as DG hands you leathers that materialised from god-knows-where and a spare helmet.

“Fine,” he says, shrugging and throwing a leg over. “I don’t think your boss will be happy.”

“Fuck!”

.

.

If this was any other situation, you would be acutely aware of yourself pressed up against DG’s back. Your arms wrapped tightly around his waist.

Except all you can focus on is that you’re going to fucking die. You think you might be screaming.

“Stop screaming!” His disembodied voice calls out. Oh. Turns out you are.

For some reason, DG had thought the helmets with built in speakers and mic would be better for communication. Fun, even. Frankly, you’re just giving him a headache.

(Not to mention the fact that he bought a spare helmet at all. And leathers that he thought would be exactly your size.

He had never rode with anyone before and you certainly had never expressed any interest. Yet he passed by a motorcycle store when he had rare time to spare, and visited on a whim.

If he dwelled on this anymore, DG is sure his headache would turn into a full blown migraine.)

Later that night, when the ringing in his ears finally subside, he will still think about the way you held him.

.

.

When public opinion is on your side, then that’s fantastic. Amazing. You tend to get away with all sorts of things.

When it’s not, the truth can become muddied and there’s mental gymnastics from all sides painting you as the villain.

Fortunately, public opinion generally works in DG’s favour, especially in the case of his stalker who got sentenced for more jail time than if she was harassing a normal person, but not long enough to account for all the distress she has caused.

Such is the criminal justice system.

Her date of release looms large and near. DG, despite his talent and fighting prowess, realises certain traumas can’t be erased.

He grows on edge. Skittish. Snaps at any and everything. It’s noted by journalists. Other managers gives you questioning looks

You don’t miss his change in demeanour. To you, the reason behind it is obvious. 

You’ve heard about this case, everyone has. It dominated headlines for almost a month: the crazy sasaeng fan who believed herself to be DG’s girlfriend before moving onto another poor soul and was finally arrested.

As he spirals, nothing you do or say to him manages to get more than a nod or a frown. You try to offer that she had fixated on someone else before she was arrested, hoping that was a small consolation to him. And though he managed a weak smile, the black cloud still hangs over him.

In the end, you pack your bags and arrive at DG’s one evening. Instead of letting yourself in like you usually would, you ring the buzzer, smile into the door camera and tell him “It’s me!”

The door swings open to reveal DG looking perplexed (and worse for wear). Head tilting, curious and inquisitive when he sees your suitcase and carrier bags full of snacks.

“I’m staying for a while.”

“According to who?”

You barge past him anyway with a grin.

.

.

The date of his stalker’s release arrives and passes without drama.

You miss your home comforts but it makes you happy to see DG’s mood genuinely improve as the days go on.

The luxurious oversized mattress, fancy spa shower, and jacuzzi bathtub also helps to make your stay a bit more bearable.

Not to mention each morning DG actually cooks breakfast for you. Turns out he’s not bad at all at playing a househusband, and it’s also maddening how he manages to get up each day before you when he hasn’t got any place to be.

“Thanks James,” you say, when he presents you with a home cooked meal and his smile grows a bit more each day.

.

.

Peace doesn’t last.

Blurry photos of you both leaving and entering DG’s apartment at all hours of the day and night make the front page of certain news sites.

Headlines scream with leading questions. 

“Relationship beyond Manager and Idol?”

“How a Manager seduced their Idol.” 

“Who is this mystery person that has tamed DG?”

Why anyone deemed it newsworthy is beyond you. You’ve been to his apartment a million times. 

Yes, you suppose the closeness of DG and yourself in the photos can look a little suspect. 

In this particular one, it looks like you have your hand caressing his chest when in actual fact you were shoving him away for a dismissive comment he made.

And the other photo, of his hand on your wrist, was actually him dragging you away when he spotted a herd of fans in the distance.

More pictures unveil themselves.

A snapshot of you driving and DG feeding you candy.

You and DG, whispering intimately in your ear as his supercar is being towed away in the background.

You red faced and drunk as DG piggybacks you outside your building.

His jacket wrapped around you, hand on your waist and angling the umbrella over you.

Him smiling down at you (ok, you admit that you didn’t realise how soft that looks to other people.)

Finally an exceptionally pixelated image of you both on his bike, that could be anyone really.

Unfortunately, your opinion is in the minority as the articles are inundated with comments and furious, tearful fans shrieking that their idol is betraying them. 

Simply unhinged.

.

.

The speculation grows. You’re damned if you do deny anything, damned if you don’t. Your talent agency puts out an official statement.

To your ire, the statement is ‘no comment’ rather than anything more definitive. You glare at James when you find out, suspecting he has something to do with this.

He gives you a shrug, and a familiar look of mischief.

To his credit, he doesn’t leave you completely to fend for yourself. You stay off social media for your sanity, and when the paparazzi hounds you, he's the one with his arm around you, cutting a path through the crowd and shielding you.

It adds fuel to the fire. Does nothing to help your case. 

Still, you can’t help feeling safe and secure with his hand guiding you - holding onto your waist, round your shoulder, or simply - 

Your hand in his.

.

.

Outside of the conference room, where DG is wrapping up a press release for his newest album and nothing else, a reporter slinks out and approaches you.

You’re used to being on the other side of the conversation. Part of the staff, herding DG through camera flashes and questions being thrown at him though there was always some sort of camaraderie. Both parties just trying to do their job with deadlines and targets to hit.

This time you just feel a weariness as you see this person making a beeline towards you.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N.” They say, holding out their hand for a shake which you take with reluctance.

“Hi.”

A voice recorder is thrusted into your face, and you automatically take a step back. “Hope you don’t mind, but I just have a couple questions for you.”

“Um...”

“There’s been lots of sightings of you and DG together-”

You open your mouth to argue-

“Can you confirm your relationship with him?”

A vacant smile settles onto your face. It’s a practised expression where you follow all the cues to be polite and professional even as internally you wish to be anywhere but here. “I’m his manager.”

“Are you two together? Romantically?”

“I’m his manager.” You repeat through gritted teeth, and you’re surprised to hear your voice calm and collected.

“Is that a no? Or-”

“What even is this question?” You scoff, ignoring the way your cheeks heat, and refusing to partake in this circus a moment longer. “This is over.”

You manage to at least catch them looking apologetic, before you stride off into a corner to take a deep breath.

.

.

DG, much more adept and experienced at fending off questions, had finished the conference early and caught the entire exchange, watching you both with a bemused look.

Walking towards you with quiet, measured footsteps, his hand settles onto your lower back as he murmurs your name.

He bites back a laugh at your small, startled jolt.

DG tilts his head to signal ‘this way’. You give him a look but follow him regardless. Trailing behind, moving far away from other prying eyes. 

Up a flight of stairs, through multiple fire doors, turning left then right then another right then maybe a left. It doesn’t matter. You’re hopefully lost and decide to just put your faith in this wretched idol.

He finally seems to find what he’s looking for as he reaches an empty corridor; stopping mid-step and you collide into his back.

“Ack!” You exclaim, hitting the solid wall of muscle.

He lets out a huff of laughter and whirls around to face you, noting how cute your look of surprise is.

How strange though, that this is his current position. But is it really unexpected that the person that has been by his side for months has finally worked their way into his heart and has somehow learned to read him when no-one else could?

If he really thinks about it, yes actually, it is unexpected. No-one else has managed to grow close to him before. As James Lee, as Diego Kang. Birds of a feather or opposites attract or everything in between, no-one has got him like you do. 

There’s still so much more to tell and show you but… First things first.

Fidgeting, you shift your weight from one foot to another, growing self-conscious waiting for DG to talk, only to find him staring intently at your face. Impatient, you give in and speak first.

“What is it?”

“...”

“Diego-”

“James.” He cuts in abruptly, “It’s just us right now. Please.”

You blink in shock at the please and correct yourself at his insistence, lowering your voice so it doesn’t echo down the empty hallway. “James, are you ok?”

“Better than ever,” he says, a smirk now pulling at his lips.

You register his change in mood and narrow your eyes, wondering where this is going. “Why are we here?”

“When the reporter asked if we were together, you said you’re my manager.”

“I am your manager.”

“But you are interested in me.”

It’s not a question. DG, no James, says it like a fact and there’s no doubt in your mind or his. You open your mouth to argue, then close it again. Open it once more-

What.

You feel some cogs in your brain misfiring and all you can manage is a feeble, “Huh?”

“You told them you’re my manager, but didn’t say no to being with me.”

“...”

“So. What do you think?”

“Of what?”

“Us.”

“You like me. Tell me that I’m wrong.”

You take a step back. “...”

Another step. “...”

“Tell me you don’t want this.”

And your back hits the wall with an oomph.

DG slaps his hand on the wall beside your head, bends at the waist and leans his weight forward until he’s eye level with you. “Tell me and I promise I’ll stop.”

“...”

You’re cornered and he searches your face for a response.“Y/N?”

“...”

Fuck. Fuck!

How on earth are you supposed to respond when he looks at you like this. When his face is millimetres from yours and his breath is on your skin and his dark eyes pierces into your soul, pupils blown deliciously wide.

With his stupid pink hair and his fringe flopping, framing his face and his high cheekbones.

The stupid canines of his poking out that gives him so much character and is so hot it hurts when he flashes it accompanied with an arched brow and an arrogant smile.

His stupid pout and his stupid lips, that you know is constantly moisturised with a fancy overpriced lip balm to make it look kissable for the cameras.

And Jesus Christ, you hate to admit it but they do. They 100% do because somewhere in the back of your brain you always knew they look kissable but it has been often clouded by just simply how annoying and bratty you found him.

Except right now you don’t find him annoying or bratty at all.

Even as he’s confessing his feelings with complete confidence, no unease, no anxiety or doubts, because he always had a way of worming under your skin and he knows exactly how to push your buttons.

Damn it all.

“Kiss me,” you tell James, and he isn’t surprised at all by your reaction, face lighting up at your confirmation.

He shifts. 

Hand coming up to cup your cheek. He rubs his thumb twice over your skin, savouring you any way he can before tilting your face towards his. His lips at first brushes against your forehead. Leaves a trail down your nose, peppers both cheeks and then your chin. 

He draws back once, takes in your sweet face and gives you a smile so soft it makes your heart hurt.

Then finally, after wanting this for so long, presses his lips against yours.

Diego Kang, James Lee, tastes like candy and sugar.

[inkdrinkerworld]

High Hopes pt2

Cw: dealer!remus, weed, recreational smoking, food, mention of parental abuse, nightmares, fluff, friends to lovers

Wc: 8.7k

part one

✧ ✧ ✧

You and Remus don’t speak about the bed sharing accident till mid summer, when you and Marlene invite him and his friends to your annual cookout.

You’d asked months in advance to use your family cottage in the countryside for your party and despite every jab and snide remark your family had made in the months leading up to the event, you refused to retaliate and make them change their minds about loaning you the house.

“Make sure you tell everyone to bring swimsuits, Marl, the lake is gorgeous.”

You’d gone up to the house a day before everyone else, wanting to ensure that everything was clean and that you’d have enough room for everyone to have at most two people in a room.

“Lupin, looks like you’re gonna have to bring those swimmies anyway!” you hear her yell to Remus who’s currently under packing by the sounds of it.

“Tell him he has to! Everyone has to go swimming ‘cause there’s a boat that takes you to the best part of the lake.” You say down the phone as you slide the last case of sodas into the fridge.

“I can hear you just fine, pretty girl. I’m not doing anything mad with you lot, you and Marlene are chaotic enough when you’re together.”

Marlene snickers and wishes you goodbye before you can even try to defend your mentality when you and Marlene meet in one room.

As the day drones on, you organise the firewood in a pile near the pit, thin blankets on the sofa as well as the beds, and you even make a couple burritos for breakfast in the morning.

As you go about your skincare, your phone rings and your body tenses. With one hand on your face, you take a peek at your phone and let out a breathy sigh at ‘Moony’ flashing on the screen with a video call.

“You’re there by yourself?” he asks as soon as you answer, taking a little time to prop your phone up on the sink as you rub your serum into your face.

“Mhm, I’m a big girl Remus, ‘ve locked the doors already and everything.” He knows you’re teasing him, and though you’ve got a playful smile, he frowns. He’s not a major fan of you being there by yourself.

“I know you are, s’just far.” you let out a giggle as you take a look at his worried face.

“Promise I’m safe Rem. The house has an alarm.” you placate him anyway, and take him through the virtual motions of your nighttime skincare routine.

“Do you want me to come there earlier?” he asks as you put everything back into your makeup bag.

“Remus,” you laugh and watch as he smiles. “You’re bringing Sirius, James, Lily, and Marlene. You can’t come up earlier.”

Remus scoffs and shows the floor where Sirius and Marlene are sleeping.

“James and Lils are down the hall, I can make them get up earlier to be there at like eight.”

You shake your head. The way your heart warms at his worry for you and his insistence that he wants to be there earlier is instantaneous and unstoppable.

“You’re going to make me think you’re obsessed with me.”

Remus gives you a small smile, one you’ve learnt is actually a big smile in Remus’ books- but says nothing.

“Do you want me to bring brownies or cookies? ‘Ve got both, but I’m pretty sure Sirius and James have had from the brownies.”

He rolls his neck and then his shoulder as he waits for your response and you watch a small frown play on his lips.

You slide on your glasses and hum, “Maybe cookies, especially if they’re oatmeal raisin.”

Remus nods, a little bewitched as he watches you putting on a lip mask. He saw you in your glasses a couple days after Marlene’s party, when he dropped off your shoes and took back his sweater, even after insisting you keep it.

He couldn’t help but think that you were even more gorgeous with the wide framed glasses than you are with your contacts then, and now he thinks the exact same thing- especially with your bunny pyjamas.

“I’ll keep that in mind, pretty girl.” Remus watches you crawl under your sheets and tries not to look creepy, but it’s intimate and he feels like you’re both a couple, rather than a couple of friends.

“G’night Rem,” you yawn, face tucked into something Remus can’t quite make out in the dark room.

“G’night pretty girl,” Remus waits till you’re asleep to hang up and when he does, his head falls into his pillow with a sigh.

-

The next morning, you’re reheating your burritos on a comal when Marlene texts you that they’re thirty minutes away and starving.

You laugh at the picture she sends you of James and Lily occupying most of the space in the backseat asleep while she’s squished to the door.

By the time you’re opening all the doors, and going out to water some of your plants, you see Remus’ car pulling up the driveway.

You’re still in your pyjamas, bunnies covering your pants and tank top and your glasses are still on but you can’t really find it in you to care.

“Bubbles! Are you putting on a show for me?” Marlene screeches as she practically jumps out of the car and pulls you into a bone crushing hug.

“Oh yeah, are you aroused?” you laugh as you set down the watering can.

“Mhm, extremely.”

Remus joins you after and you give him a small smile as his hand reaches to brush your lower back.

“G’morning,” he whispers, voice raspy like he’s just smoked. “Cute pyjamas.”

You bite the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling.

“Angel, this is a pretty sweet place!” Sirius gives you a side hug and drops a kiss to your forehead.

“Thanks Sirius,”

You greet James and Lily who seem upset they’re awake so early but they manage to give you a smile. “There’s breakfast on the counter.” Everyone besides Remus rushes into the house.

“Babe you’re the best!” you hear Marlene shout and you smile.

“You’re not hungry, Lupin?”

He shakes his head, “Not till you’re going to have something.”

You feel your heart gallop at the ease with which he says the words and you try hard to keep those feelings from rising up to your face.

“Fine, but there’s lots of flowers to water.” it takes you all of ten minutes and you make it back in the house in time to get the last burrito.

“We can share,” you say to Remus who’s halfway to protesting when Marlene kicks his shin.

You’re cutting the burrito in half when she mouths, ‘Share with her.’

“Whatever you want, pretty girl.” he says instead of, ‘No, y’can have it,’ like he’d wanted to. Your bright smile as he accepts it makes eating at eight in the morning not seem like a strange thing. Especially when you opt for sitting next to him at the breakfast nook.

Your thigh presses into his, elbows brushing every time you shift. It’s weird in the way that it comforts you- you’ve known him for less than a month and you’ve slept in the same bed and become intertwined in each other’s routines, and when he’s this close you’re just a regular girl, with no issues at home.

Marlene leaves first and before you can ask her she says, “I’m gonna set the kettle on,”

You give her a smile and blow a kiss that makes Sirius pout.

Remus barely conceals his smirk at his best friend’s obvious attraction to Marlene.

“Did you bring your mug?” she asks and Remus turns away from Sirius to look towards the kitchen.

“I did, s’in the cupboard.”

He turns to you and raises an eyebrow.

“What mug?”

You set your half eaten burrito down and jerk your chin to where Marlene is holding the mug that resembles a dinosaur.

“It’s not good by any means, but I love him.”

Marlene runs to her bag to pull out another dinosaur mug that leaves Sirius pouting even harder.

“Where was I when this mug making trip was taken, hm?” he asks, James and Remus roll their eyes and you swear they mutter, “Brat,” but don’t say anything.

Marlene responds to him, “Probably riding your motorcycle to the hairdressers? You weren’t hanging out with us Siri- it’s a me and Bubbles thing.”

Marlene blows you a kiss this time that Sirius reaches across the table to ‘snatch’ before it reaches you.

“You’re a lot more jealous than I thought you’d be,” you say gently to Sirius who flushes a little pink.

“M’not.” but his voice goes up an octave as he says it.

“There’s more mugs in the cupboards over the stove if anyone else wants tea.” you say, turning to Lily who’s just a little bit quiet.

“You can go upstairs and take a nap if you need to,” she gives you a gentle smile and yawns before she can say thank you.

When Marlene comes round with your tea, James and Lily are heading upstairs to get a bit more hours in and Sirius is taking Marlene back outside under the guise of, ‘getting a feel for the land’ but you’re pretty sure he just wants to love on her.

Again you’re left with Remus and you don’t mind it one bit.

“When’s the next mug making trip?” he asks as you take a sip of tea and relax against him.

“Oh don’t tell me you’re jealous too, Lupin.”

He only shakes his head, “Of Marls? No, I just want to have a mug with that much,” he pauses as he searches for the right word while he looks at your very deformed bright purple dinosaur with green spots. “character.” is what he settles on.

“That’s an interesting word choice,” you take another sip. “Maybe when we get back to the city.”

Remus’ll take that any day.

“What’s the first order of business?” he asks and you turn to him,

“Grocery run, I didn’t know what everyone ate or didn’t eat so I didn’t want to get anything more than stuff for breakfast.”

Remus nods, his hand falling to your hips to pull you a little closer. His thumb rubs the exposed skin there from where your shirt has rode up as you finish your tea.

“We can go and come back, pretty sure James is snoring and Sirius,” he pauses and you laugh. “Sirius is distracted.”

“I’ve gotta shower first though.” Remus doesn’t seem to mind the implied wait.

“So I’ll watch a film,” it’s how sincere he sounds when he says things like that that causes your heart rate to pick up. “Seriously, pretty girl. Go shower, do your hair, whatever you want to. I’ll wait.”

-

Remus only has to wait a half hour before you come back down to the living room and he thinks you’re as beautiful as ever when he sees you.

You’re in a pair of white washed overalls and a cute top underneath that has flowers embroidered on the sleeves and your hair is down.

“M’ready,” you say as you shove your feet into a pair of sneakers and Remus stands.

“I took everyone’s snack orders and I think Sirius and Marlene are gonna be sunburnt by the time we get back.”

You’re confused as to what he means till you walk outside and spot them sleeping on the porch’s swing set.

“Maybe the sun will have pity on them.” You doubt it will.

Remus insists on letting you sit in the trolley as you shop, “Someone has to sit, usually it’s Sirius,” he explains as he helps you into the trolley, “but someone has to.”

Ten minutes into being carted around, you come to realise you love it.

You’re sitting in the basket, grabbing bags of crisps, chocolates and two sacks of flour that make Remus raise his eyebrow.

“I’m making dinner,” you say and Remus shakes his head.

“This is supposed to be a vacation; for everyone.” There’s a hidden meaning behind that but you choose not to dwell on Remus’ kind words.

“But I was gonna make a steak and ale pie,” you say as you reach for a tin of vanilla sugar. “And vanilla buns for dessert.”

“That’s all, pretty girl. I want you to relax too, you don’t have to cook for us all weekend.”

“But I like doing it,” you try to argue but Remus stands firm.

“Tonight only, I’ll make breakfast tomorrow.”

“What about dinner tomorrow night?” you ask with a mischievous glint in your eyes and Remus scoffs but it sounds more like a chuckle.

“We’ll figure that out then,” he puts an extra crate of eggs beside you and sneaks a small tub of vanilla extract too.

Remus pays before you can swipe your card and levels you with a look that says, ‘too slow,’ but it also makes your belly swim with something else.

All your friends always leave you to pick up the tab when you go out and while you don’t mind, you can’t remember the last time someone even offered to pay for a meal for you - even on a date.

By the time dinner’s ready, you’re all a little buzzed on beer and have all ‘sampled’ a bun before dinner.

Dinner with your new friends is different to how it is at home. Everyone talks, shares odd stories and makes jokes. There’s no tense silence, no awkward questions to try to lead into conversation- just genuine conversation that makes your heart swell a little.

“Movie night?” Marls asks as Remus and James wash the dishes- they both insisted after you cooked.

“What do you usually watch?” Lily asks and Marlene smiles. She’s the one that came up with this movie rotation all those years ago.

“Horror, comedy and then animation,” she says excitedly, “We haven’t made it to animation in years though, someone falls asleep halfway through the comedy.” She looks pointedly at you and Sirius and Lily’s eyes follow.

“She always chooses ‘The Hangover.’ We've seen it too many times now.”

“Well, we can’t have that. Lily you choose the comedy this time,” Sirius says and you nod pointing to the tv.

“There’s some stuff on dvd there and I think we’ve got the streaming set up already.”

You leave for another shower while they decide, changing into your pyjamas and slipping into your bunny bedroom slippers.

“What did you guys choose?” you ask as you sit beside a freshly showered Remus- his hair is damp and he smells like oranges.

“Insidious, Grown ups and Monsters Inc.” James says, sliding the first dvd in while Marlene comes back in with three bowls of popcorn.

“Monsters Inc?” you murmur, hands wringing in your lap as Remus accepts the bowl. He’s sporting a frown as your hands seem to be wrung to all hell.

“Yeah, haven’t seen it in years.” Marls says and you nod, plastering a smile on your face as you take a couple kernels of popcorn.

“You okay?” Remus whispers and you nod, stuffing your mouth so you don’t say anything out of turn.

All through the horror, he can tell you’re on edge from more than just fear. It gets worse when everyone is wide awake during the comedy.

“I’m gonna put the kettle on, anyone want anything?” You ask, twisting the joints of your fingers to crack them.

Marlene looks at you funny, leans her head off the sofa and mouths, ‘You okay?’ To which you nod.

She frowns but you only glare back and she drops it.

There’s a chorus of requests that you mutter to yourself all the while to the kitchen- James wants another bun, Lily a cup of tea, Sirius wants his gummy bears, Marls wants Swedish fish and Remus wants nothing so you’re bringing him a cup of tea as well.

You’re not alone for three minutes before Remus joins you.

He looks tired, like the day’s drive has worn him down, but he grants you a smile anyhow.

“Came to help you,” you doubt that’s the only reason he’s in the kitchen- you’re not good at keeping your emotions off your face it seems.

“You’re missing the movie,” you point out just as the kettle whistles.

Remus shrugs and takes to pouring water over the tea bag in your cup and two others. “Sugar?” He asks, looking up at you to find you sitting on the counter, swinging your legs as you dip your hand in the bag of Swedish fish.

“Two please,” but your voice is anything but regular.

“I’ll be two minutes,” Remus promises as he takes everything back to the living room.

You’re alone with your thoughts for a little, reminiscing on when you were a kid and you used to come here with your parents.

You’re so deep in thought you don’t notice Remus is back till he’s standing right between your legs.

“What’s eating you?” He asks softly, hands on the counter right beside your thighs.

You shrug, not sure how much is the right amount to share.

There’s not much in terms of ‘loyalty’ between you and your family, but it feels wrong to speak ill of them because sometimes they’re not bad- sometimes they’re the best people ever, and then they ruin it by being mean for months.

“Pretty girl,” Remus’ tone is still patient, still soothing and you make up your mind quickly.

“Can I tell you after the movies? I’ll show you the lake too.”

Remus studies you for a moment, hazel eyes scanning your face intensely before he relents.

“Only if you’ll wear a sweater,”

By the time Monsters Inc is on, you’re clenching your fists under your butt and forcing yourself to at least look like you’re paying attention.

“I haven’t seen this in forever!” Marlene says excitedly, and you smile, a fake one but it’s soft enough that she doesn’t question it.

“Neither have I,” you say back, Lily making comments of it being her childhood favourite falls on deaf, buzzing ears as Boo attaches herself to Sully.

Your mood only gets worse and about three quarters way through, Remus can’t bear to see your mixed emotions any longer and guides your head to his chest.

“Just pretend you’re asleep, dove.” He whispers and you close your eyes. If he feels tears wetting his shirt when Mr. Waternews is found out and Sully and Mike realise who they’re working for, Remus doesn’t say a word.

He doesn’t say anything when the tears become worse when Sully and Mike remake Boo’s door and say goodbye to her; he just wipes them away as discreetly as he can.

Your friends file off to bed shortly after the movie ends and a quick clean up, but you’re not so lucky. You’d promised Remus a talk and a tour, and honestly, you need it.

“C’mon,” you gesture for Remus to follow you after he gives you his sweater, and you slip into your shoes.

“Here,” he hands you a fresh cup of tea as he opens the door for you.

Remus embraces the silence of the first few steps and waits you out until you sigh.

“We used to come here, for the summer back when it was just me, my mum and my dad,” the words hang there, only the wind touches it as you consider what else you should say.

“It used to be fun, we’d go out on the boat, and have a bonfire and go out on the lake- it’s where this whole tradition started actually,”

You hazard a glance at Remus and find him looking at you carefully.

“I haven’t watched Monsters Inc, since the last time we came here.”

Remus sighs, “How old were you then?”

You take a sip of your tea, “I think six? Maybe seven,” he blows a breath. “I’ve tried watching it on my own after, but it was always me and my dad’s show. It was our thing, I was Boo, he was Sully- but then, I don’t know what happened if I’m honest.”

Your eyes shine with tears in the moonlight as you lead Remus to the dock.

You sit and pull your knees up to your chest, the hem of Remus’s sweater covering your shins as you lay your cheek on your knees.

“We used to be really close and now I think he wishes he’d never had kids. Especially if we try doing or saying things he doesn’t agree with.”

Remus tugs you close to his side when the first tear falls, his hand on your shoulder as he squeezes you close.

“From what little I’ve seen, he seems… intense.” Is the word Remus goes for, and you can tell it’s to be polite.

You nod, “You can’t put a hair out of place with him- it’s practically a cardinal rule to always be perfect.”

Remus sighs, “That’s an unattainable goal, perfection.”

You shrug as you rough up your cheeks to rid them of tears. “I don’t think he really cares, and then sometimes,” you pause, not sure if you should or even can get the words out to tell Remus.

“You don’t have to say more, pretty girl. I get what you mean to say.”

Remus doesn’t ask anything else or anything of you and it’s refreshing to get to put down all the pretending and the chipper, and the unwavering happiness and just be.

“He’s just a lot and it’s hard to know which version of him you’re gonna get.”

Remus rubs your shoulder and your arm, “I’m sorry, dove.”

You stay out till your tea goes cold and you’re yawning so much Remus is laughing softly every time.

“C’mon, let’s get you to bed, precious girl.” Your belly swims at the nickname, only Remus seems to shower you in them- outside of Marls.

“Will you stay with me again? You don’t have to, there’s a room for everyone if you’d prefer to sleep on your own.”

Remus would’ve said yes even if you didn’t look so shy and sleepy and if you didn’t wear his sweater like it was something commonplace- though he figured if you wore it once more, that it would be a habit he would be insanely fond of.

“I’ll stay with you, lead the way.”

-

You wake up in a tangle of limbs and your face tucked neatly away in Remus’ neck. He somehow smells better now, a mix of your laundry detergent, his orange soap and sleep.

He’s also warm in a way that makes you cosy up even closer to him.

“Stop moving, pretty girl,” Remus’ voice is gravelly and raspy, his arms lock around you a little tighter as he holds you still.

“Sorry,” you murmur, a yawn ripping apart the apology. “Did you sleep okay? I didn’t move too much?”

Remus shakes his head and stretches, his limbs cracking as he does so.

“Slept great. You were still as anything,” he finally opens his eyes, the usually hazel eyes seem more honeyed and warm in the morning light. “Come closer, you’re warm.” He says and you chuckle.

“I usually get told I run cold,” Remus shakes his head and tugs you closer by your waist.

“You’re toasty,” you both just lay in silence as you allow yourselves to wake up slowly.

You hear noises around the house as everyone else wakes up and you sigh.

“Time to get a move on, Remmy.”

He groans, “Can’t they entertain themselves?”

You laugh, “They could, but I’m hungry.”

Remus gets out of bed with no complaints and gets ready for the day before heading downstairs before you.

“Favourite type of pancake?” He asks and you hum, your steps aligning as you descend into the kitchen.

“Can you do the one with the sprinkles mixed in?” Remus nods, and sets about getting the ingredients while everyone else busy themselves with cups of tea.

Remus makes yours for you, exactly like you like it, and Marlene eyes you over her cup of tea.

“Bubbles, c’mere a second?” She motions you both out the door and Remus and Sirius watch you both curiously while James and Lily cuddle up on the sofa.

When you’re outside and at the flowers, she fills the watering can and squeals, “What’s going on with you and Moony?”

You shrug, rolling your eyes as you take the full watering can and start watering the plants.

“Nothing’s going on,” you say- which might be true. It also might not be true, because something is definitely going on; you’re friends but you feel like a little more than friends. Like you’re in the liminal space between friends and more than friends.

“Oh yeah? So you’re just wearing his sweater and he’s spent the night in your room?”

You fail to hide your smile at her question and she laughs maniacally.

“I knew it!”

You stop her before she can get ahead of herself, “Nothing’s happened, we’ve just been talking and getting to know each other,”

“In all the ways.” Marlene’s eyebrows dance at her statement and you shake your head- mostly to dispel heat from your face.

“No, I asked him to spend the night in my room. He said yes, there was nothing else.”

Her eyes narrow, “No ‘good morning’ cuddles or kisses? You know you’re the only one with cute nicknames from him?”

You scoff, Marlene rolls her eyes, “‘Pretty girl’, ‘dove’, you’ve noticed only you get such nice names from Remus? He’s not exactly as forthcoming with it to anyone else.”

You ponder it for a while, sipping the remainder of your tea as you water the last plant.

“I like that he listens and he’s easy to talk to. And I feel like myself- like there’s no pretending when I’m with him, but I’ve also known him for maybe four months at best.”

Marlene touches your shoulder, “It’s not like you to go all in all at once, and that’s okay. Just don’t rush to label four months as not enough time- if you like him, and you think he likes you; I know for certain he does, but I know you need to know it too, then let it flow yeah? What’s the worst that could happen if you just see where it goes?”

Before you can answer her, Remus comes looking for you out the front door, “Breakfast’s ready, dove. Come eat before it gets cold,” he says softly, “You too Marls, before Siri passes away at the fact that you’ve been gone twenty minutes.”

She sends you a pointed look as he goes inside, calling out to Sirius.

“What’s that look for?” He asks as he takes your empty cup from you.

“Marlene’s scheming,” you say with a smile and Remus groans.

“Please nothing like her schemes that involve jumping into pools drunk again.”

You have breakfast right beside Remus, like the day before- thighs pressed together as you eat.

He doesn’t have his own plate so you divide your stack between the two of you- which he only has a couple pieces of.

“Remus you’re having breakfast?” Sirius asks pointedly and you frown.

“Does he usually not?”

James shakes his head, “Mostly toast and coffee. Or clotted cream and scones when he can manage it- never really has an appetite in the morning, our Moony.”

You look aghast as you turn to Remus who looks sheepish.

“You could’ve said something! And here I’ve been feeding you breakfast without a single thought.”

Lily and Marlene smirk at your concern and the boys roll their eyes at Remus’ bashfulness.

“S’fine, I wouldn’t have eaten if I wasn’t feeling for breakfast.” A lie. Remus would eat at whatever time you were sharing food with him. It wouldn’t matter if he’d just come back from having lunch himself.

“Now I feel like I’ve forced you into having breakfast,” you say softly and Remus kicks the shins of both the boys and glares at them.

“None o’that,” he says equally as soft, still glaring at his friends who can’t help but smile at your reaction.

Sirius and James ruin the sweet moment by miming a kiss to Remus while you’re not looking and then getting kicked again which makes them groan.

“Are we going onto the lake today?” Lily asks to change the conversation and it works perfectly.

You delve into quick, animated conversation about what your supposed plan is- pack a picnic basket full of sandwiches, some drinks (alcoholic and nonalcoholic), a pavlova (that makes Remus raise his eyebrow- a silent conversation passing through you both, you wave him off) and then head to the dock and get on the boat and find a nice spot to swim.

Remus helps you with the pavlova, cutting the fruit and making the whipped cream while you set it in the oven to bake.

“What kind of sandwiches did you want, dove?” You put the last of the dishes in the drying rack as you turn to find Remus getting the bread, condiments and toppings on the counter.

“Whatever you guys like. I just need one cucumber sandwich and one with tomatoes, meat, cheese and crisps.”

Remus nods and gets started, when you reach for the cling wrap he tuts.

“Go get dressed, I can do it by myself.”

“How rude would that be? I’m the host.” Remus sets the knife down after he cuts the sandwiches in halves.

“Pretty girl,” he traps you between the counter and himself. Your chests pressed together. “I told you in the shops, you’re not cooking for us all weekend. It’s a vacation for you too- go get dressed, do whatever you need to do, and then come back down when you’re done and ready to go, yeah?”

His eyes remain glued to yours, the intensity of his soft words bleeding into your veins and replacing your blood as it starts racing through you.

You narrow your eyes still, “Has anyone ever called you ‘bossy’ before?” You ask but still make your way to the steps.

“Your cookies are on your dresser, have a whole one if you like.” He says as you retreat, chuckling when you squeal happily.

James finds Remus stocking the picnic basket and approaches him with a smirk.

“You like ‘er don’t you, Moons?”

Remus frowns, “I’d like it if you and Pads didn’t mouth off about me not liking breakfast and making her feel bad.”

James whistles lowly. “Sorry ‘bout that. But you do, don’t you? Like her I mean.”

Remus sighs, “Yes, I suspect I do. It’s becoming a little more than like rather quickly though.”

James shrugs and steals a crisp from the half done packet. “S’nothing wrong with that. Told Lils I loved her like a month into dating- best decision I ever made.”

Remus wants to go back and forth with James about the differences between you and Lily, and then he realises, he really can’t.

No one besides him, and probably Marlene, knows the situation of your home and how that factors into things- he’s better waiting it out.

Remus finds waiting it out might be extremely difficult when you come down in a sunshine yellow and orange bikini top and a pair of Jean shorts that reveal a naval piercing and a set of waist beads that compliment your skin perfectly.

Your hair is up in a claw clip, some pieces out and framing your face and your glasses are replaced with shades. You’ve forgone all your jewellery, but you still look stunning.

His heart stops for a second when he catches the scent of your toffee butter perfume.

“You look like a sunrise,” is the first thing out his mouth and you giggle. A tinkling, windchime-ish sound that lights your entire face.

“Thank you, Remus. I’ll set everything in the boat while you go get ready, thank you for packing the basket.”

James watches the exchange silently, more and more he finds the evidence that you and Remus are falling for each other to be extremely obvious.

Remus leaves with a kiss to your forehead and it takes all your self control not to touch your hairline as you pick up the basket.

“James, do you want to be our captain for the day?” You ask as you open the sliding door.

“Oh of course! Lead the way and I’ll take over the helm immediately.”

The moment you anchor the boat, you’re all diving in- except Remus who sits with his legs dangled in.

“Maybe when the sun starts getting a little lower,” he had said and you didn’t want to force him to do another thing. Remus was much more content to sit and stare at you swimming and having a water fight with Marlene as he drank one of the beers from the cooler.

After about an hour of roughhousing, you paddle over to his legs and climb up beside him.

Dripping wet, you reach for a peach iced tea and one half of the sandwich with crisps and take a bite.

“Want your towel?” Remus asks as he notices gooseflesh erupt on your arms and legs.

“No thanks, don’t wanna get it sopping wet before it’s time to leave.”

You take another bite when Remus says, “I’d just give you mine, dove.”

It makes your heart sink and soar at the same time- the way he proposes going without just so you’d be comfortable. It makes you think of the way he’d been having breakfast just because you shared with him.

No one’s ever been so nice, without expectations before.

“You’re sweet Remus, but I’m okay,” you lay your head on his shoulder as you finish off the sandwich and take a sip of your drink.

“Can I ask you something personal?” He asks softly, eyes on your friends as they start a swim race.

“Yeah, course.”

Remus takes a moment to collect his thoughts, takes a moment to choose his words carefully.

“Why doesn’t Marlene know anything?” It’s been something running laps in his kind since his conversation with James in the kitchen.

Your breath hitches and Remus is about to apologise when you start explaining, “She knows some stuff. Like the stuff about me and my family not having a good relationship- she’s seen some of the fights,”

You take another sip, “But I’ve been careful not to have any visible bruises when I’m with her. It’s hard to explain,” you take a deep breath before saying, “And it’s a little embarrassing to have your dad still being abusive to you after being a kid.”

Remus nods, saying nothing for a while and then, “I hope you know it’s not a reflection of yourself and you shouldn’t be embarrassed by his actions.”

You don’t go back out in the water after that, instead you lay on the boat’s floor with Remus with your toes dipped into the water.

“Can I ask you a personal question, Remus?”

Your voice is soft, your hands occupied with tracing the silvery lines of his scars that race up his arms.

“Anything,” he says earnestly.

“What are your parents like?” He smiles, an image of his mum already in his mind.

“My mum’s like me, quiet, shy, a massive reader. She’s very gentle too- I don’t think Hope has a mean bone in her body. She’s a big baker like you are, she’d love spending all day in the kitchen.”

You smile unconsciously, she sounds like Remus. “She’s also very fiercely protective of whoever she loves. It’s like pack animal loyalty with ‘er.”

“She sounds like you,” you say quietly, turning to look at him and finding Remus eyes laying on you already. “Gentle and kind; very warm.”

“Alright lovers, cut the pavlova and let’s crack some beers.” Sirius hollars as he boards the boat again, his wet hands reaching for his towel as he scrubs his hair roughly.

“You have such a way with words, Black.” Lily says sarcastically as she helps you take the pavlova out and dress it up with the cream and fruit.

You all eat your bellies full on the boat, the pavlova and sandwiches done just as the sun begins to set.

There’s a lethargy that engulfs the boat as you take the helm for the return trip.

“James it’s fine, you’re more tired than I am,” You say to him, his eyes are barely open and that reminds you that you haven’t had your cookie yet. “Remus, can you get me the cookie from the basket? I forgot to take it when we got here.”

“The edible?” He asks as he retrieves it from the picnic basket anyways.

“Mhm! Thank you,” you reach for it with one hand as the other is glued to the steering wheel of the boat as you turn it around.

“M’not giving it to you while you operate a vehicle.” Remus says as he holds it closer to him.

“Remus, it’s a ten minute boat drive back to the dock.”

He shrugs, “Wait ten minutes then, these are strong.”

You frown, grumbling under your breath at his strictness. “You’re so stern and strict.” He hears you say it and smiles.

“Yup, but I’ll make you a deal- you can have it if you let me drive,” you shake your head.

“You’ve already done enough for today,” Remus rolls his eyes.

“I’m also the only one of us that didn’t swim today,” you falter then.

“Come over here and take it so I can drive,” he says but you shake your head again.

Remus decides he’d rather use intense flirtation tactics to get you to sit and have your cookie and continue relaxing.

His hand reaches for your exposed waist, his fingers stroking your skin there and then slipping under the waist beads.

Your breath catches in your throat.

“Pretty girl,” he starts lowly, voice much more raspy than usual. The way he stares so intently at you makes your belly erupt in butterflies. “Come sit over here and have your cookie so I can drive us back, hm?”

Your friends watch you both with rapt attention, whispers of the two of you ‘fighting like an old couple’ lost between the heat of his actions and the thrumming under your skin from his attention.

The calluses on his fingers tickle your skin softly, more gooseflesh raising on your skin as you stop the boat and get lost in his touch.

“Remus,” you mumble, your resolve already crumpled to nothing. “You play dirty,” you say quietly as you switch places with him and receive your cookie with a dazzling Remus Lupin smile- which is just a quiet smile that shows his teeth.

“Don’t know what you mean.”

You finish your cookie and your bottle of water just as Remus docks, your friends filing off the boat with their arms full of things as they go to the showers- all of you too tired for any other activities.

“You good to be by yourself for twenty minutes, dove?” Remus asks as he helps you dismount from the boat.

Your eyes are already droopy, your movements more sluggish than normal.

“Yeah, I’m gonna shower and wash my hair and go to sleep.” You slur some of the words, your tongue too heavy for how fast you want to speak.

“Sleeping by yourself tonight?” Remus asks kindly, closing the door behind you and locking up before you set the alarm.

“Um,” you start, stretching as you make your way to the stairs, “Would you mind staying? I like sleeping next to you.” Remus feels his stomach knot at the confession.

Your high allows your tongue a little freedom, “When you’re there I don’t have nightmares.”

“Is that why you asked if you’d moved a lot?”

You nod, a timidity to you. “Yeah, I usually wake up super anxious or with a massive adrenaline rush that takes ages to wane.” Then as if you’ve only just remembered, “But you can sleep in your room if you want an entire bed to yourself.”

Remus coos, “I’ll share a bed with you again, princess.”

You wrinkle your nose at the nickname and Remus laughs, walking behind you as you climb the stairs.

“What?” He asks as you open your bedroom door.

“That feels like such a pretentious nickname,” you admit and Remus shakes his head.

“What if that’s what I think of you? That you’re regal enough to be a princess?”

You scowl, “I prefer pretty girl,” you say softly as you lay out your pyjamas on your bed.

“You like the reinforcement of the truth?” He teases and you groan, rubbing your face as Remus laughs.

“Go shower Remus, you’re too much right now.”

Twenty minutes later, you’re putting away your blow dryer as Marlene opens your bedroom door.

“You okay?” You ask her as she climbs into your bed.

“I’m perfect, Bubbles. Want you to do me a favour, though.”

You raise your eyebrows as you smooth oil through your hair. “What kind of favour?”

Marlene approaches you, kisses your forehead and whispers, “Let yourself fall for him. He takes care of you, you let yourself smile for real when he’s around. Four months don’t mean a thing.”

She leaves just as Remus opens the door and he frowns.

“Did I interrupt something?” He asks gently, ready to call Marlene back and swap with her so you two can chat more and he’d stay with Sirius.

“Nope, everything’s perfect. Except for the fact that I’m not asleep yet, I’m beat.”

Remus shakes his head as he shuts your door, climbing into the bed beside you.

“Oh are you?” You nod, oblivious to his teasing as you scoot closer to him.

“So tired. I think tomorrow we’re going to start lunch late so I can sleep in some more.”

Remus lays still as you get comfortable, laying your head on his chest and draping an arm over his stomach. “Sleep as long as you need, dove. The boys and I can cover the bar-b-que.” He has just enough time to plant a kiss to the bridge of your nose before you’re asleep. Remus can’t help but sigh and squeeze you a little tighter to him as he relaxes under you.

-

The next morning you’re not awoken by the sun in your eyes or by Remus moving under you. Instead, it’s the rain beating down on the roof that rouses you from sleep.

Remus isn’t under you, you’re alone in bed but the spot where he’d been laying all night is still warm and sunken- as if he’s just left.

Groggily, you pull your hair back and out of your face, move through your morning routine and trudge down the steps as you fit your glasses on your face.

“Morning,” you say to Marlene as you pass her by the breakfast nook, making your way immediately for a glass of water.

“How’d you sleep?” She asks with a girn.

“Good, till the rain.”

She nods, Lily and James coming downstairs shortly after, “This puts soup on the menu instead of bar-b-que?” James asks and you shrug.

“If you guys want that we can do it instead, I’d probably just need to run to the store and get the vegetables we might not have.”

Putting on the kettle you look around and find Sirius and Remus missing.

“Where’s your lover boy?” You ask Marlene as you toss two tea bags into your mug.

“Same place as yours,” she teases. “They’ve been hotboxing Remus’ car for the last half hour.”

You shake your head with a smile, “What’re we doing about breakfast?”

Marlene and James exclaim at the same time, “Breakfast hash!”

You and Lily look at each other, “Londoners.” She says teasingly and James flushes, pressing a sweet kiss to her lips before joining Marlene in getting the potatoes, eggs and sausages for the hash.

Remus and Sirius appear just as breakfast is done, their shoulders and hair wet from the rain as the walk into the kitchen.

Remus hangs over your shoulder, his cheek nuzzling into yours. The wet tips of his hair draw messy lines of water down your neck.

“Sorry I wasn’t there when you got up.” He whispers, you smile.

“S’okay, how was your smoke?”

“Good, need a shower though. S’all stuck to my clothes.”

Remus goes and comes back in ten minutes, smelling more citrusy and minty as he comes to sit beside you.

You don’t share half your breakfast with him as you eat, and he frowns. With a not so stealthy hand, he steals a potato wedge.

“There’s still some in the pot,” James tells him but he doesn’t get up.

Instead, he continues stealing off your plate with a smirk. When you’ve finished, he takes your plate and fills it again, this time sharing with you.

“You finish it,” you say to Remus, leaning your head on his arm as he eats.

The rest of your friends watch silently, eyes a little wide at how seamlessly you and Remus seem to be moving with one another.

“What kind of soup did you want to make, James?” You ask, directing your attention to him as he stacks Lily’s plate in his.

“Something hearty,” Sirius says, his own head presses against Marlene’s chest. “I want something hearty. Like beef soup.”

James chuckles and you smile, “Beef soup then,” he says and you nod.

“I’ll probably have to get carrots, some more potatoes and the beef then.”

Remus hums, “I’ll go with you, can’t be driving in this weather.”

You roll your eyes, “You’ve just smoked, Remus. You’re not driving anywhere,” you turn to Marlene, “Wanna go with me? Lily you too?”

The girls nod immediately and you all rush to go get ready, leaving the boys at home to entertain themselves.

“So,” Lily starts as you pull out of the driveway- Remus had moved his car out of the way and moved yours back so it would be easy for you to reverse out into the street.

“You and Remus are getting cosy.” She says and Marlene screeches.

“Thank you! Someone else sees it!”

You shake your head, “We’re just friends. Nothing has happened.”

Marlene rolls her eyes, “Because you’re not doing anything. He was eating off your plate at breakfast without invitation- might I remind you.”

Lily nods, “And he’s been extra smooth and affectionate with you! He never shared his clothes so easily- not even with the boys.”

You bite your lip and deliberate on their words. “What should I do then?”

You spend the half hour drive to the supermarket trading plans and tactics and by the time you enter the supermarket you have a clear game plan.

“Do you think it’ll work?” You’re not sure why you’re so nervous to put the moves on Remus, but your palms are sweaty as you hold the basket and the girls load it up.

“Oh, it’ll fucking drive him wild,” Lily promises. “He almost lost his mind when he saw you in the swim suit, he’s going to proper well lose it when we get back.”

When you get back to the cottage, the boys are watching the game, all the dishes are washed and the kettle’s whistling off.

“We got everything, who wants to start?” Marlene asks, dropping herself in Sirius’ lap, watching coyly as you carry the bags to the kitchen and Remus stands up immediately.

“I’ll start it,” you say and he grumbles.

“You’re not, go sit.” He takes the bags from you and sets about cleaning the meat and filling a stock pot with water.

“I’m serious, dove,” Remus says as you make it to the fridge to take out the onions and garlic.

“I’m just getting the ingredients out,” you say gently and Remus narrows his eyes at you. You set the stuff down on the counter, and when Remus turns his back you get a knife and start chopping.

“Dove,” he says shortly, looking back at you as he sets the beef to brown.

“Remus,” you mimic his tone and he scoffs, walking towards you. “What are you doing?” You ask as he stands beside you, waiting patiently for you to finish chopping the carrots and onions.

“Sending you to relax, because you can’t seem to listen.”

He takes the knife from you and you pout.

“I’d feel better if I was helping you though,” you say to him all while batting your eyelashes.

Marlene and Lily had told you to amp up the banter and the teasing just to push Remus along a little.

“Pretty girl,” he starts, but you hop up on the counter top and hold onto his wrists. You massage the thin skin of his wrist, Remus watches you with quirked eyebrows.

“Can’t I just stay here? I’ll just watch you, I don’t wanna watch the game.”

You blink slowly at him and Remus melts.

“God, you’re a fucking minx aren’t you?” He murmurs, moving his hands to hold the dough of your thighs. It’s only then he lets himself take in your outfit and he swears his brain nearly short circuits.

You’re in another pair of shorts, a much softer and breathier material than the denim ones, and a crocheted, purple bikini top. You’ve got your chains all layered and hanging between your boobs, crystals and turtles all hanging over each other, and Remus needs a minute to think about something else so he doesn’t get a hard on.

“Don’t know what you mean,” you pop a carrot slice between your teeth and Remus groans.

“Sure you don’t,” he narrows his eyes, hands squeezing your thighs as you swing your legs either side of his hips. “You’re not as innocent as you let on, princess.”

You roll your eyes but Remus sees the way your body reacts to the nickname and smirks.

“I’m the most innocent,” you jut your chin to the stove. “Don’t let your beef burn.”

Remus shakes his head, turning to tend to the stove. He feels your eyes track his every move, and can’t help but feel a type of tingle trail down his spine- more so when you hop off the counter and fit yourself right behind him.

Your hand rests on his back, your fingers spreading against his spine making him shudder.

“You need to take a walk, pretty girl,” he murmurs, adding the spices to the pot and covering it to start the simmer.

“With you? Of course I do.” Remus chuckles and turns quickly, using his hips to angle you against the space near the fridge.

“What’re you playing at, dove?” His hands fall to your hips, holding the supple skin there as he looks at you.

You lift a coy shoulder, “Nothing, you’re not a game.”

Remus smirks, “Neither are you,” you smile at the ease of his words. “But, I know what you’re trying to do.”

You frown, eyebrows knitted together. “What am I trying to do?”

Remus leans into you, his nose brushing yours. The way you lean up into him is too natural, Remus wants to chuckle, but you smell like caramel, vanilla and something musky that makes you intoxicating. It clouds his head, especially when you tip your chin up and he gets an even stronger scent of it.

“What am I trying to do, Remus?” Your hands sling behind his neck, your fingers climbing and winding into the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Rush my plans,” he whispers, your breaths mingling as he bumps your noses together again. He plays a mean tease and brushes your lips then pulls away the moment you try to meet him.

“You’re no fun.” You deduce and he laughs, kissing the corner of your mouth as he pulls away.

“You’ve no patience, princess,” he pats your butt, relishing in your scowl at the nickname. “Go sit down or have a smoke- you’re banned from the kitchen for the rest of the day.”

“You like to boss me around don’t you?” You ask as you open the fridge and take out the bottle of passion fruit juice.

“You like me bossing you around, don’t play coy, pretty girl.”

Remus blows you a teasing kiss as you walk out the kitchen with the glass of juice and you decide that you’ll be upping your game starting then on.

[justinspoliticalcorner]

David Smith at The Guardian:

Losing an election for the highest office is a crushing blow that no candidate forgets. But when the American electorate delivers its verdict next week, the personal stakes for Donald Trump will be uniquely high. His fate will hover between the presidency and the threat of prison.

If he claims victory, Trump will be the first convicted criminal to win the White House and gain access to the nuclear codes. If he falls short, the 78-year-old faces more humiliating courtroom trials and potentially even time behind bars. It would be the end of a charmed life in which he has somehow always managed to outrun the law and duck accountability. For Trump, Tuesday is judgment day. “He branded himself as the guy who gets away with it,” said Gwenda Blair, a Trump biographer, adding that, should he lose, “he is facing a lot of moments of reckoning. He could go to jail. He could end up considerably less wealthy than he is. No matter what happens, and no matter whether he wins or loses, there will be a reckoning over his health. Death, ill health, dementia – those are things even he can’t escape.” The property developer and reality TV star has spent his career pushing ethical and legal boundaries to the limit, facing countless investigations, court battles and hefty fines. Worthy of a novel, his has been a life of scandal on a gargantuan scale.

In the 1970s Trump and his father were sued by the justice department for racial discrimination after refusing to rent apartments to Black people in predominantly white buildings. His property and casino businesses, including the Taj Mahal and Trump Plaza, filed for bankruptcy several times in the 1990s and early 2000s. Trump University, a business offering property training courses, faced multiple lawsuits for fraud, misleading marketing and false claims about the quality of its programmes. In 2016 Trump settled for $25m without admitting wrongdoing.

The Donald J Trump Foundation, a charitable organisation, was investigated and sued for allegedly using charitable funds for personal and business expenses. Trump eventually agreed to dissolve the foundation with remaining funds going to charity. Trump and his company were ordered to pay more than $350m in a New York civil fraud trial for artificially inflating his net worth to secure favourable loan terms. He is also known to have paid little to no federal income taxes in specific years which, although technically legal, was seen by some as bordering on unethical.

[...] He became the first president to be impeached twice, first for withholding military aid to pressure Ukraine’s government to investigate his political opponents, then for instigating a coup on 6 January 2021 following his defeat. He also became the subject of not one but four criminal cases, any one of which would have been enough to scuttle the chances of any other White House hopeful. In May Trump was found guilty of 34 counts of falsifying business records relating to a hush-money payment to the adult film performer Stormy Daniels, making him the first former president to be convicted of felony crimes. Sentencing is scheduled for 26 November (the judge delayed it from 18 September after the Republican nominee asked that it wait until after the election). What was billed as the trial of the century has already begun to fade from public consciousness and played a relatively modest role in the election campaign. Jonathan Alter, a presidential biographer who was in court for every day of the trial, recalled: “I’ve covered some big stories over the years but there was nothing like the drama of watching the jury foreperson say, ‘Guilty, guilty, guilty’ 34 times and Donald Trump looking like he was punched in the gut.” Alter, who describes the experience in his new book, American Reckoning, reflects on how Trump has been able to act with impunity for so long. “It’s a combination of luck, galvanised defiance and the credulousness of a large chunk of the American people,” he said. “Demagoguery works. Playing on people’s fears works. It doesn’t work all the time but we can look throughout human history to political figures and how demagoguery and scapegoating ‘the other’ works.”

Alter, who covered the trial for Washington Monthly magazine, added: “We’ve had plenty of demagogues, scoundrels and conmen in politics below the level of president. Trump has been lucky to escape accountability but the United States has been lucky that we haven’t had something like this before. The founders were very worried about it. They felt we would face something like this for sure.” The US’s system of checks and balances has been racing to keep up. Trump was charged by the special counsel Jack Smith with conspiring to overturn the results of his election loss to Joe Biden in the run-up to the January 6 riot at the US Capitol. The former president and 18 others were also charged by the Fulton county district attorney, Fani Willis, with taking part in a scheme to overturn his narrow loss in Georgia. Trump was charged again by Smith with illegally retaining classified documents that included nuclear secrets, taken with him from the White House to his Mar-a-Lago estate in Florida after he left office in January 2021, and then obstructing government demands to give them back.

With a such a caseload, it was widely assumed that Trump would spend this election shuttling between rallies one day and trials the next. But the courtroom campaign never really happened since, true to past form, he found ways to throw sand in the gears of the legal system and put off his moment of reckoning.

Or he simply got lucky. In Georgia, it emerged that Willis had a romantic relationship with the special prosecutor Nathan Wade, prompting demands that she be removed. Smith’s federal election case was thrown off track for months by a supreme court ruling that presidents have immunity for official actions taken in office. The classified documents case was thrown out by Judge Aileen Cannon, a Trump appointee, although Smith is appealing and the charges could be reinstated. Such delays have made it easier to forget just how much of an outlier Trump is. Past presidential brushes with the law consisted of Ulysses S Grant being fined for speeding his horse-drawn carriage in Washington and Harry Truman receiving a ticket for driving his car too slowly on the Pennsylvania Turnpike in 1953. Richard Nixon resigned before he could be impeached over the Watergate scandal and was subsequently pardoned by his successor, Gerald Ford. Meanwhile the standard for presidential aspirants has been high. Joe Biden’s first run for the White House fell apart amid allegations that he had plagiarised a speech by Britain’s Labour leader Neil Kinnock. During the 2000 campaign, a last-minute revelation that Republican candidate George W Bush had a drunk driving conviction that he concealed for 24 years generated huge headlines and was seen as a possible gamechanger. Hillary Clinton still blames her 2016 defeat on an FBI investigation into her email server that produced no charges.

For Donald Trump, his run for the “Presidency” is all about avoiding any possible jail time for his indictments and felonies. If he loses, then Trump could be facing more trials and potentially jail time and/or massive fines.

Send Trump to prison, not the White House!

#TrumpForPrison #HarrisWalz2024

[sunraies]

This will contain spoilers for OBX4 Part 1. Ep4 used the most. Other plot lines missed out.

She's so gone

Pogue Reader. Hints of Rafe Cameron.

Warnings- Violence, animal cruelty, blood, mentions of drugs.

JJ Maybank's sister isn't the quite, sweet girl she was 18 months ago.

Just a little background as hard to explain/cover in a one-shot :

Y/N Maybank nicknamed May, MayB or MB

JJ Maybank's sister. (Obx 4 spoiler, you can chose if biological, Luke's or someone else's)

Naturally shy, kind and caring. Loves to read and enjoys nature and the beach. Quietest out of the Pogues.

Changed during the 18 months JJ and the Pogues were away, treasure hunting and fighting for their lives.

I may chose to do more with this nicknamed Y/N character if people enjoy her. Sorry if I'm rusty and seems rushed had this idea after finishing part 1.

*×*×*×*×*×*×*×*×*×*×*×*×*×*×*×*×*×*×*×*×*

The last 18 months had been hell on earth to put it lightly. While your brother and his friends were off finding treasure and as you found out from all the details later, fighting to survive, you were left behind. Left with no father, brother and friends to try and keep the only home you knew. You literally worked until your fingers and feet bled. Taking cleaning jobs around the Cut and Figure Eight, working as many hours as possible at the Country Club taking any shift they had going from lifeguarding and golf carting to bartending and waiting. Anything to keep your roof over your head, hoping the people you loved would be home soon.

Things turned darker when you got so desperate you used some of Luke's contacts to make money. It started small selling a few stolen pills to dealing using many cleaning jobs as a cover. You were almost caught by Shoupe a few times but he seemed to go easy on you, thinking you were still the grade A student, polar opposite sister of JJ Maybank. Before things got too serious the person to help pull you out was the last person anyone would expect, Rafe Cameron. Why he helped you was unclear but after many months of denying his help, you finally accepted having received a busted lip on a deal gone wrong. The money he loaned you save your home for a little while.

An odd friendship formed between the pair of you but never went any further as before it could the Pogues returned home, with life changing treasure and the news of Ward Cameron and Big John Routledge's death.

Rafe closed himself off to you and you had to go on like nothing happened.

Life got easier and so good with your family's return. They brought your home and land. Poguelandia was re-created and you got a taste of the paradise they had created on the island they told you all about.

After building the paradise. You helped run the shop, organised JJ's charters, helped Kie in the garden and kept the bills and books in check with Pope. You got to be your old self again, spending days relaxing, reading in the sun and enjoying the company of your loved ones.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

It had happened a few times over that summer, a storm over the Atlantic hundreds of miles away sent ripples right over the pond. Having grown up on the Outerbanks you told tell, you could hear it the moment you woke up. The flags on the roof and in the yard sung a perfect sympathy with the gulls flying over head.

"We're going to the beach!" You heard JJ yelled through your open window, the tell tell sounds of John B slapping him out of happiness confirmed the feeling in your bones. "Wakey-wakey everybody!"

It didn't matter what you had planned that day, it changed to hitting the brake. No matter what, everyone would stop. It was one time the whole island came together. That perfect summer swell.

"Yeah, baby, now that's the perfect swell. It's probably the best of the year" JJ howled as he checked his phone, tracking the swell making sure the broads were ready and prepared in time to hit the best waves.

Everyone woke with the tingle in their bodies and happy buzz of that beach day. You happily lounged in the hammock while the others prepped their boards. Planning to read on the beach as the others surfed.

Pope had decided not to join causing outrage. Sarah sat up quickly in the swinging chair and you almost toppled out of the hammock. "There'll be other swells. Someone's gotta keep the shop open"

"Pope. That's like saying there's other pizza to eat all right?" JJ exclaimed "like come on, now. You serious?"

"Wow" Kie sighed "Listen to your earth mother, Pope. She's like begging you to surf."

"I think my earth mother is telling me to maximise our intel" Pope wasn't having any of it. "The shop needs running as someone bet our tax fund" He glared at JJ who ignored him.

"Mines tell me to maximise the swell" Kie argued, looking for support.

"Wanna maximise this beach day?" John B looked at Sarah who agreed.

"I wanna maximise this tan" Sarah smiled before turning to you "May? Maximise beach day?"

"I'm gonna maximise this book" you waved your book bag having stood closer to Kie who hummed. They knew you wouldn't get in the surf but never missed beach day.

"Okay, everyone have fun maximising" Pope shrugged. "Cleo texted to say she's collecting bait, someone's gotta sale it"

"Lame. Tell her we're closed" Kie frowned

"Pope, hey, hey, rule number one, Pope, is no working on a swell day." JJ said, desperately trying to stop him as John B wrapped an arm over his shoulder.

"Rule number one" You echoed as Pope looked your way. Having worked the books with him, you knew the shop was sinking but didn't have the heart to tell the others yet. Pope still deserved a day off through but you understood why he was so adamant.

"Someone's gotta do this. If we want to keep business going" Pope shrugged "catch a nasty one for me" He smiled at a broken hearted looking JJ.

"I can stay, I can read while on the till" You offered but Pope shock his head.

"Go enjoy the sand, MayB" He smiled wrapping an arm over your shoulders before kissing your temple.

They all knew how much you worked while they were away but not the dealing side of things. You deserve a beach day, they'd seen a slight change in you but didn't talk to you about it. Taking whatever details of your time alone you'd give them.

Being in the Twinkie, cruising along the coastal road with the music blaring felt like home. Kie smiling happily while an excitable JJ disturbed John B and Sarah in the front.

"Look, John B" JJ grinned pointing over him "Look out there"

You laughed with Kie and Sarah as John B covered his eyes and pushed him backwards, causing JJ to flop over you and Kie.

"May, did you see!? The waves were huge" He grinned boyishly up at you as he held his arms wide, the size of the waves.

"Yeah J, I saw" you smiled softly down at him.

As soon as the Twinkle hit the sand, JJ slide the door open and happily ran his hands in sand while John B let her roll to a stop. Everyone laughed as they soaked up the sun. You laughed as John B almost hit JJ over the head with the umbrella.

"Half-baked Poguelandia" John B sighed as Sarah chuckled "its gonna be great"

Once everything was set, you happily flopped into a chair identical to JJ's, a matching set you had since he was 3.

Kie adjusted the umbrella for you before wrapping you in a back hug "all set, MayB. We'll miss you out there"

"Hey, beach bag guard has always been my duty" You leaned back into her, laughing as the chair wobbled you both "you guys catch the waves while I stay on dry land"

"Let's get those boards off!" JJ hurried over to the van while the roars of jeeps took over the peaceful sounds of the beach.

"Oh boy" John B sighed

"What?" JJ asked distracted by the boards.

The mood suddenly dropped as Kook jeeps rolled closer in a convoy.

"You're joking" Sarah muttered clearly annoyed

"Don't stop" JJ sighed while Kie shook her head "anywhere but here"

You all watched as Topper cruised by at the front. They clearly spotted your group as a random Kook called out look. Stopping a small distance away.

"Oh, you're joking. Of course, they stop here" Kie sighed, her thoughts out loud."Why wouldn't they? When there's a whole beach"

"We were here first," Sarah pouted. "So lame" she walked back towards Twinkie, unable to look at them as John B stared at Topper, unloading his fancy board.

"Let's go, Baby," you heard Rafe yell as he jumped out the back of Top's truck. You hadn't seen him in months. Your heart jumped a little before plummeting as Sofia cuddled into his side. You'd hear rumors but hadn't seen them together yet.

"Oh, great, my brothers here" Sarah sighed as Rafes eyes scanned the beach and your group before they locked in on you.

"Kie, don't worry, he's not getting near you" JJ confirmed her as you all knew about the boat incident. "I can guarantee that"

You wished the promise of protection was to you too but they didn't know, you hadn't told them of your betrayal. The life line you took from Rafe. The reason the house and land was still there to buy in the first place.

"Hey, ya'll. John B" JJ called from the top of the Twinkie "Sunshines coming"

You broke eye contact with Rafe, adjusting your shades, placing the book in your lap to watch Topper approach. You watched as Sarah whispered warnings to John B, most likely telling him not to bite if Topper provoked him.

They seemed tense but ended civilly as John B walked back to your group. You rolled your eyes as some dumb Kook yelled, "Go home Pogues" like they owned the beach.

Things seemed to go smoothly after that. The Pogues happily caught the waves. You jumped up cheering as Sarah successfully rode a big swell in. "YEAH GIRL!" You cheered, picking up her towel while she was briefly stop by Kelce and Topper.

As she walked over you noticed Sofia saying something to Rafe, but he swigged his beer and shook his head.

"You ok?" You asked Sarah as she thanked you for her towel and flopped next to you.

"I'm good" She breathed before looking away from the Kooks "I just wished he'd stop staring over here"

You nodded as you noticed Rafe watching you two. Was he looking at you or Sarah?

"Hey, forget it" You hummed handing her a can out the cooler "he probably doesn't know....." You stopped as Sarah raised an eyebrow. 'How to talk to you after everything' you wanted to finish but instead said "he's probably plotting. You know crazy Kook shit"

Sarah let out breathy laugh "you sound like JJ. Kook conspiracy!"

Sarah dozed next to you as you read but you found it hard to focus, re reading the same line as Rafe kept looking over. You were reading a sentence for the 5th time when you heard yelling from the water. Sarah sat up just in time for you both to witness JJ poach Topper, sending him toppling into the waves as JJ rode to the swallows.

The Kooks yelled at him, including Rafe, before he flipped him the bird, and JJ shrugged, making you and Sarah, even though it clearly broke whatever peace had been created. "Well, that didn't last long" you sighed

The peace seemed to stay for the rest of the afternoon. A few pity poaching and pushing out of the waves happened but it didn't amount to anything. You helped Sarah and John B load the Twinkie as JJ and Kie got the last of the boards on the top.

"Guys! There's a turtle hatch!" Kie gasped, rushing over to the moving sand. You all hurried after her.

"Holy shit! Look at these little nuggets!" John B smiled as baby turtles emerged.

"They're so little!" Sarah made little movements with her hands

"Adorable!" You smiled

"Wait, guys, give them some space. Don't touch them" Kie warned after her excitement.

"Wait, we gotta make a path, right?" John B asked

"Yeah, clear the way" JJ exclaimed before starting to make a part towards the shoreline.

"We gotta clear these footprints" Kie instructed. "Sarah, MayB, keep the gulls off"

"I don't see any!" Sarah spread her arms wide, looking up before wobbling. You caught her laughing before helping shield the baby turtles.

"A turtle highway!" JJ exclaimed.

"Follow the turtle highway. Come kids" Sarah happily called out to them, and John B joked he was their human daddy leading them to the ocean-ocean

"Go on, babies." you smiled before looking at Kie, who was smiling widely, over the moon to see a hatch and that you were all helping her. The turtles and saving the ocean was her dream, and this was a part of it. If this hatch made it, all of them with your help they had a 50% better chance.

Just as you looked back down at them, something fast moving along the beach caught your eye "guys" you muttered before the revving got louder "guys!"

"Hey!" Kie jumped up quickly waving her arms as she saw the jeep too. You both desperately waved your arms to stop whoever it was. All of you started waving and yelling

"Hey stop!"

"Stop!"

"There's a hatch!"

"Yo Stop"

"Go around!"

They didn't stop. If anything, whoever was behind the wheel accelerated more. You and Kie stood your ground till the last second, diving and tumbling out of the way before you could be hit. JJ desperately looked around, seeing Sarah had Kie, he helped you up, checking you over for any injuries. "Shit, you good?"

You hummed and nodded before he ran over to Kie checking on her.

"Fucking Assholes" Kie frowned, looking at the babies. The revving started again "Oh hell no!"

She stood in the path of the jeep again this time, all five of you stood together, yelling from them to stop. Again, they didn't, making you all jump out of the way. Kie got hit with a drink as the Kook you recognised as Ruthie drove by.

As the others checked on Kie, you looked over that the Kooks hollering and cheering. Noticing Rafe and Sofia not joining in. If anything, Sofia looked disgusted. Did they feel bad for watching you almost get run over? You hadn't spoken to Sofia much, but she always seemed kind. She clearly didn't belong in a good way.

Kie's gasp and cry of "no no no no" broke you out of your thoughts. Looking down at her kneeling in the sand, you noticed a murdered baby turtle in her hands. The tiny broken shell. Kie whimpered and remained for a moment before suddenly standing up and heading for the overly happy group.

"Stay here" she said before walking away. JJ ran after her as John B held Sarah back before calling out to you, but you didn't listen.

"Kie, I know I'm the last to say this. But not today" JJ tried to stop her.

"I don't care" Kie bluntly responded

"Kie, we need to be smart about this" you said softly.

"I don't care" she repeated

"No. All right" JJ sighed "Just we are little outnumber in this situation. Let's jus-"

"I don't care!" She snapped at him, looked at the both of you.

"Here she comes!" Topper called out "on a warpath. Get ready!" Ruthie smugly stood beside him as everyone watched Kie with you and JJ behind her to see what would happen.

"Look what you did" Kie held out the baby turtle. "Is this OK?" Ruthie smug ass look dropped suddenly glancing at the baby before looking away.

"No, look at it!" Kie urged."You drove right over it! there was a turtle hatch, you idiots!" Everyone looked uncomfortable.

"I understand your upset, Kiara." Topper tried some conflict resolution bullshit.

"No, I'm more than upset, Topper" Kie snapped at him.

"All right but it was only one" Ruthie sighed pointing back towards John B and Sarah "I mean look there's so many more of them" she shrugged like it was nothing "what a hatch is like 100 turtles? Most of them don't make it anyway"

"Yeah, it's like 1 in 1000" Topper added, like stating the facts Kie knew would help.

"Hey, you know what? You should so throw that to the seagulls. " Ruthie taunted "cycle of life, right?"

"Cycle of life!" Kie pushed her back, causing her to cry out in shock, and Topper jumped in to protect her "getting flatten by a truck is not the cycle of life!"

JJ got between Topper and Kie holding him away from her as some Kook held up her phone. Ruthie got close to Kie, "Your move, Kie." She clearly felt protected by her friend recording. "What you gonna do?"

"I would just walk away. We are not going this today" Topper warned JJ and Kie. No one was really paying attention to you. You were JJ's quite, sweet sister.

"There is something seriously wrong with you people!" Kie yelled at them before turning around and pushing a speaker over.

"Come on, Kie" You said softly, putting an arm around her, which she shrugged off.

"Yeah, that's right! Get back to your side, Kie!" Ruthie yelled. You glared back at them, pausing between Kie walking away and JJ staying.

"If you touch her, or any of us ever again. I'll come back and kill every single one of you" JJ threatened.

"Was that a threat?" Ruthie gasped as someone called out they had JJ on video.

"Come on" He said softly to you as you continued to watch Ruthie, blood bubbling away under the surface.

"Always knew he'd end up like his daddy" Ruthie muttered, clinging to Topper like some poor victim. You caught what she said and saw red.

Before anyone knew what was happening, your fist connected with Ruthies' nose. A horrific crack broke the stunned silence. Blood poured from her nose as she cried out. You shook your hand out, not sure if the crack was your knuckles, her nose, or both.

"You dare speak of my family again" You seethed "and it will be more than just your nose. TURTLE MURDERING BITCH"

Chaos broke out as Topper went for you, JJ pushed him away as he broke out of his shock. John B sprinted over as Kelce took as swing for JJ. Shockingly, Rafe got between the four of them.

"Get the fuck out of here!" He yelled at JJ and John B "get her and go!"

JJ scribbled over to you, grabbing you arm and pulling you away "Holy shit, holy shit" He muttered "what the fuck? How the-" He was stunned just as much as everyone else.

"We have that on video?! Right?!" Ruthie cried, holding a towel to her nose, but her friend shook her head, having stopped when JJ and you started to walk away. She'd only caught the aftermath.

Back the Twinkle, Sarah held your hand, checking the bruising and broken knuckles. "You got a serious swing there, May"

"Well, J taught me" you shrugged.

"I taught you for emergency situations!" He ran a hand through his hair."That was not an emergency!"

"She looked too smug" You said sighing softly.

"Yeah, now we gotta deal with Shoupe" JJ sighed, knowing he'd probably already been called. The death threat was bad enough.

"May, hasn't got a record. She'll be fine" Kie said "but girl, you did what I wanted to do!"

"Plus Shoupe hasn't had to deal with MayB before. She's normally covering your messes. " John B pointed out calming JJ a bit.

"Um, yeah. Kinda not the first time" you muttered.

"WHAT?!" JJ and John B yelled, John B slammed the breaks in shock, bringing the Twinkie to a sudden stop just outside Poguelandia where blue lights flushed.

[paddockbunny]

Pinky Promise

Summary : Lewis takes Singer!Reader out on a Hot Lap. Rating : 16+ mostly but moments of 18+ Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Singer!Reader Word Count : 1,738 words ONE SHOT Trigger Warnings : Mostly fluffy with a slight undercurrent of NSFW, nothing major triggering, maybe implied age gap but adults anyway Images : curated from Pintrest Authors Note : ok ok, Sabrina Carpenter is the face claim I have had in mind while writing this. I feel she really suits the story and Lew tbh. Slight references to Juno, Bed Chem & Espresso but not directly so if you want to imagine someone else feel free 😉

Watching some fast cars, drinking a little champagne and having a nice weekend in the gorgeous South of France sunshine was all she expected when she had been invited to experience the famous Monaco Grand Prix. What she hadn’t expected was to find herself getting fitted for a helmet and told she was going around the track on what was called a “Hot Lap” with one of the F1 drivers. No, that was not on her bingo card, AT ALL!

She stood faking a smile as the chin strap was fitted under her chin. Trying hard not to show how terrified she was and make herself look immature and childish.

“So how fast exactly is this going to be?” It was an honest question so the fact a few of the PR people from different brands affiliated with the organisation let out little giggles and stifled laughs. “Well, that depends on the driver not really the car.” The older gentleman who was helping her smiled and tried to calm any nerves. “Who is the driver then?” She turned on the charm so she didn’t seem like some ditzy dumb blonde who knew absolutely nothing. Especially seeing as a camera was on her and she was being recorded.

“Uh, that would be me.” A man’s soft, calm voice came from behind her and she couldn’t help but spin around. She knew him. It would be hard not too. He was synonymous with the sport and even if she did sort of know little, she knew who Lewis fucking Hamilton was.

His hand went out and she was taken by how handsome he was in real life. He had perfect skin, perfect teeth and eyes that were so welcoming and inviting. “Lewis.” He introduced himself - as if he needed an introduction - and she slipped her small little hand into his and replied with her own name.

“I’m so nervous.” She admitted immediately but let a broad smile spread across her face. “Don’t be, I’ll keep you safe.” He winked and she had no idea if he was turning on the charm for the camera or if he was just such a genuine, nice person. When his hand ran down her arm in a comforting manner she knew it was the later. Definitely the later.

The same older man that had wrangled her (and her mass of curled coifed hair) into the black helmet she was now donning gave her some little safety instructions (“just in case”) and set her up inside of the very expensive, very fast looking sports car. She wondered in that moment if she should have asked for a loan of a t-shirt or something that at least covered her up more than the outfit that she was clad in. The scrap of barely there fabric that apparently constituted as a top was a poor choice for keeping any of her assets in place if things got wild and Lewis decided to throw her round as if the car were a rollercoaster. She pulled her little leather jacket around a bit more before the seatbelt was going around her. God, what had she gotten herself into.

“Have you ever done anything like this before?” Was Lewis’ first words to her when he jumped into the car beside her. No, she hadn’t, she never thought she ever would either. She was a safe non risk type. She had never been particularly sporty in her younger years and the thought of doing something so crazy as drive a car at top speed was insanity to her. The whole time she was getting “geared up” she wondered why her PR & PA had agreed to do this in the first place.

She shook her head as a no.

“A little scared?” He asked and she nodded “I don’t know what I have gotten myself into.” Shakily a laugh escaped her and it was met from Lewis with a broad smile. He talked to her, distracting her, as he started the engine. He explained some of the corners they were going to take and what to do with her head and neck. He said he would be “flat out” on the straights and to go with the movement of the car as he braked. He revved the engine a few times and told her to just enjoy herself.

“Easier said than done.” The quip back came quickly but both of them chuckled at it so she did manage to relax, even if it was only a teeny tiny little bit.

“Just remember to breathe.” Lewis added before he got a thumbs up from a guy with headphones on and a clipboard who was standing relatively close to the front of the car. “Wait.” Her hand darted out and grabbed his arm, his skin smooth and velvety under her fingertips.

“Pinky promise you’ll not go too fast” she held her pinky up and Lewis let out a loud, roar of laughter and she couldn’t help but admire how down right gorgeous he really was. The way the corners of his eyes wrinkled as he grinned. That little gap between his front teeth that would have been a bit dorky on someone else but was sort of alluring on him. He was truly a handsome man. His own pinky looped and linked around hers and he nodded dynamically but one thing Lewis didn’t know was how to go slow. He didn’t do slow. He never did slow.

Lewis tried to focus as hard as he could on the driving. He tried not to pay too much mind to the beautiful - no drop dead fucking gorgeous - woman sitting inches from him giggling and letting out excitable squeals whenever he increased in acceleration or cornered. But his attempts where overwhelmingly futile. He kept catching a glimpse of her perfect bare legs and taught stomach and he could feel his mouth salivating. From their brief interaction moments before getting into the car to the pinky promise they had made just before they set off, Lewis couldn’t stop thinking about how fucking hot she was. He knew of her before but not very well - pop wasn’t exactly his choice of music - and he wondered why the hell not? Even if it were for the fact she was one of the most exquisite women he had ever laid eyes on. Now he knew why all of the guys back in the garage (and some of the other drivers) were jealous of him getting to drive her around the famous street circuit. He would indeed be jealous if this hot lap had been granted to someone like Charles or worse, Lando!

“Oh my God!” She exhaled deeply with pure excited adrenaline coursing through her veins. The thrill, the buzz, the kick all roared wildly throughout her entire being. Her heart was pounding and her legs were shaking from pure exhilaration.

“Lew!” She gasped as he slowed the car right down and brought it into what she had come to learn was the Pit Lane. “That was…” better than sex was what she was going to say but remembered she was being filmed and that would have set the rumour mill into overdrive so she just shook her head.

“You’re amazing.” She grabbed his arm after he turned the engine off and he was beaming from ear to ear at hearing her so stimulated by the lap. And as if there was some manifested universe shit going on they both looked at each other and felt something there. Something that wasn’t just because of the rush of driving around a track with undoubtably the best driver in the world.

Lewis hadn’t stopped thinking about her all weekend. In particular he couldn’t stop thinking of the same one mental screenshot he took. Her smiling, breathless, panting with hair messy after stepping out of the car and he wondered if that was how she looked after she orgasmed. The feeling of her press her body against his in an encompassing hug as a thank you for giving her the “ride of her life” (her own words), almost made him loose his mind so he tried desperately to ignore that one. In fact, Lewis thought about the long tresses over her face and those big pouty parted lips as he strolled into the paddock on the Sunday morning with his headphones on listening to her latest album.

It wasn’t what he was expecting when he heard she was a pocket sized pop princess. The rhythms were smooth, sensual even, and the lyrics? OH BOY! They would put some of his own past efforts to shame. Lewis had to try hard to keep himself from looking visibly scandalously shocked. She didn’t seem the type to write song about how horny she was and instructions on how she likes it. But he liked it, no, he loved it. He could totally understand why she was a sensation and why everyone was jealous of his one on one car time with her.

Suited up and ready to head out for the national anthem, Lewis was in the zone as he made his way through toward the garage. His headphones still firmly on his head, her voice lulling away in his ear singing about how sweet she tastes. He hadn’t expected to glance over to the area behind Toto and see her there, standing looking like a fucking goddess. She raised her hand and waved at him like so many others did but he only could focus on her. He was down bad for her and he only met her a few days ago. God, he was never like this. No girl ever has heart race that quickly before when he hadn’t even gotten to know them. So he knew what he needed to do. He turned to whoever it was helping him out that afternoon and without hesitation mentioned her name and followed it with;

“Can you please invite her to dinner tonight?” “Sure. I’ll need to check it’s cool to add another place”

“No, no, not team dinner. Just her and I.” He replied and the dude raised his eyebrows at first but smiled broadly.

“Yeah, Mate. I don’t blame you.” He winked and Lewis let out a long sigh. The very one he had been holding from the moment he made that pinky promise right before the Hot Lap that will be forever ingrained in his mind.

[everybodyshusband]

ooooo husband requests back on??? count me in!!! if you'd find it in yourself, I'd love to see some sappy swissalps in your style, whatever comes to mind!!! and take your time :3

fuck yeah, husband requests back on !!!! sappy, morning routine swissalps coming right up <3

(divder by @wrathofrats)

Swiss stretches and groans as he wakes, rubbing his eyes to rid them of sleep and popping his back as well as he can against the soft mattress. A muffled whine at his side prompts the multi ghoul to turn his head to the right and he feels his expression melt into something that can only be described as unrestrained adoration at the sight of the sleepy earth ghoul lying next to him.

Swiss shifts himself over a little closer, melting against the warmth of Mountain's body heat and murmuring a soft "Mornin' sapling" against his shoulder, making sure to kiss the freckled skin afterwards for good measure.

The earth ghoul's only response is to whine tiredly and roll over to face the other direction, pulling the covers up to his ears and burrowing his face even deeper into his pillow. Swiss can't blame him for not wanting to wake up just yet, the two of them were up late last night, and as much as Swiss longs to stay in bed with his love for a while longer, the few sparks of fire element that run through his veins are calling out to him this morning, flickering to life alongside the dawn of this new day and urging him to get up, get moving.

He groans again as he hauls himself out of bed—softer this time, lest he wake his tired mate again—and pads over to the ensuite bathroom of their shared room. The multi ghoul splashes his face with water to help wake himself up, swishes a mouthful or two of water around in his mouth and gives his appearance a once-over in the mirror for good measure. Once satisfied with the general tousled-ness of his hair and his singlet top and boxers are deemed appropriate enough for this early hour (when any of the pack who do happen to be up and about will barely be awake enough to register his state of undress), Swiss makes his way out of the bathroom and into the ghouls' kitchen. He pauses only for a moment on his way out of the room, taking the time to smile down at his mate and press a gentle kiss to the earth ghoul's head—the only part of his body that's visible underneath all of his blankets.

As it usually is at this hour, the kitchen and the rest of the common areas lie empty, the rest of the pack choosing to stay curled up around each other for a while longer while Swiss sets about organising everything for breakfast. On a typical day, breakfast is a team effort between himself and Mountain and the system works a treat. While the earth ghoul gets his extra hour or so of sleep, Swiss connects his phone to the speaker resting on the bench and loses himself in the music as he busies himself with mixing up batter for pancakes, cutting up fruit for toppings and setting the table out with bread, condiments and all manner of cereals. He loves his pack and he's always been adamant that they all deserve options for their breakfast. Of course, the most important task, at least in Swiss' eyes, is setting the caffettiera onto the stove to get the morning's coffee brewing for all those who drink it.

Predictably, the smell of brewing coffee is enough to rouse both Mountain and Dewdrop from their respective slumbers. Dew is the first to appear and Swiss doesn't hesitate to pour out the fire ghoul's morning coffee and leaving it on the bench for him as the multi ghoul continues to cut up the pile of fruit in front of him. Dewdrop takes the cup and wordlessly nods his thanks before disappearing into the common room, no doubt curling himself under a blanket and settling down to enjoy the coffee, paired with his latest loan from the Abbey's library.

As predicted, Mountain appears next, just as Swiss is humming along to the song playing from the speaker and wiggling his body in time with the music. As he makes his way through the fruit, he feels the earth ghoul's strong arms wrap around his waist and a head rest against his shoulder.

"You look like you're having fun," Mountain muses, turning his head to press a kiss to Swiss' bare shoulder, a mirror of what the multi ghoul had done to him barely an hour before.

"Always," Swiss grins. "Coffee?"

"Please."

It takes Swiss less than a minute to make the earth ghoul's coffee. After all these years making everyone's drinks, he's gotten surprisingly quick, he's pretty sure Dew and Cumulus have a spreadsheet detailing his progress in the speed of his coffee making. He slides Mountain his drink and leans in to sneak a quick kiss before the earth ghoul takes a sip. Mountain deepens the kiss but it remains chaste, a lazy thing that has warmth spreading from the place they're connected all the way to the tips of his fingers.

"I didn't get a kiss with my coffee," Dew jokes, smirking as both ghouls spring apart in surprise from his sudden interjection as he enters the kitchen to rinse his mug out and deposit it next to the sink.

"Shut up, Dew," Swiss complains good-naturedly, shoving at the fire ghoul as he walks back past him and Mountain, still smirking even as he rounds the corner into the common room again.

"Don't listen to him," Mountain reassures. "I think we're cute." He leans forward slowly to capture Swiss in yet another soft, all-consuming kiss, his coffee and the multi ghoul's fruit entirely forgotten.

But just before their lips can touch, they're interrupted once again by none other than Dewdrop himself, although this time, he's shouting from his spot on the sofa rather than accosting them directly. "For Satan's sake, stop flirting in there, some of us are fucking starving!"

The two ghouls stare at each other for a second or two before bursting into laughter. Swiss shakes his head at his packmate's antics and moves away from Mountain to let the earth ghoul begin cooking the pancakes as he arranges the cold food to be set out on the table. As Swiss pulls away, Mountain's tail wraps around his own, squeezing lightly a few times, a declaration of his love for the multi ghoul that even Dewdrop can't interrupt.

[workingclasshistory]

On this day, 28 July 1915, the United States invaded Haiti, crushing opposition and setting up a dictatorship which governed the country for the next 19 years. US Secretary of State Robert Lansing claimed the invasion was necessary to end "anarchy, savagery and oppression" in Haiti, and claimed that "the African race are devoid of any capacity for political organisation." The government had been lobbied for some time by US banking interests to occupy Haiti to assert US financial dominance as opposed to dominance by the financial institutions of the French former colonial power. In the years of occupation, the US forcibly dissolved parliament, killed thousands of people – and posed for photographs with their corpses – as well as siphoning wealth from the country. They also tied people up with ropes and forced them to work for no pay, killing people who attempted to flee. US authorities installed a puppet leader, Louis Borno, who admired fascist dictator Benito Mussolini, and had him take out a loan from the National City Bank, the forerunner of Citigroup. Around a quarter of Haiti's revenues then went towards paying for this loan. The measures left Haitian farmers "close to starvation level", according to the United Nations. While formal US colonial occupation ended in 1934, US retained neocolonial financial control of the country through the remaining debt until 1947. Reflecting on his role in the events, US Major General Smedley Butler stated that he "helped make Haiti and Cuba a decent place for the National City Bank boys to collect revenues," and described himself as a "racketeer for capitalism." More information, sources and map: https://stories.workingclasshistory.com/article/10016/us-invasion-of-haiti https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=668997001940185&set=a.602588028581083&type=3

[mozzaicynth]

one thought everyday and its just the amazing world of gumball especially these three freaks (doodles + some headcanons below :3)

mr small -

my interpretation of small becoming more mellowed out in the future seasons as opposed to season 1 is him managing his anger in a more healthier way (meditation, etc) (plus i think all those herbal infusions are incredibly effective on the nerves) . that being said i think he still has underlying anger issues and lashes out if prompted too much . another reason hes nicer and more of a pushover in the later seasons is because i like to think hes guilty of his plethora of outbursts earlier on, especially towards students (unwarranted shouting which as a school counsellor he should know is pretty harmful on younger kids) . the fact that he tries to offer his help when its absolutely not needed so many times later on in the show further makes me like to think he’s making up for it all

hes also so autistic to me hes on the spectrum you cant tell me otherwise and i think hes pretty awkward and considered strange by the whole town (which is saying a lot for elmore standards) . still super friendly and approachable but he also cant take hints and he definitely stims (and has special interests, alternative medicine are you kidding)

his music taste i love to think is all over the place … i get the general consensus is he listens to mystic chants and sitar music but he definitely listens to more, ranging from pop to indie to rock to metal (this may or may not have become an idea when i was listening to ‘darts by soad and associated it with him,) . also what with his stupid little self funded album that is such a jarring listen ‘cause of all the ridiculous genre changes

i think he crochets/macrames as a hobby along with other diy stuff (most of the decorative items in his home crafted by him) making him, surprisingly considering how incompetent he is sometimes, super crafty/handy .

larry -

larry is a great person: incredibly intelligent, he’s very knowledgable on a plethora of subjects and he has a big heart, holding little to no virtriol against the people of elmore (except the wattersons but that is SO warranted) . thus i like to imagine he did great in school, moved on to do so wonderfully in uni whilst juggling jobs and his studies but after graduation was left stuck (alike so many people nowadays) . neither small or larry came from well off families but i think for larry he didn’t have much of a support system anyway so currently he overworks and works and works just to catch up on the student debt whilst simultaneously paying his taxes (i still think about that episode all the time fuck the police . big pink son of a bitch), loans and not to mention the bare minimum to keep himself alive

he’s a very sweet and kind person but anyone under the immense stress that he’s under would be irritable and temperate (he deserves to be more angry imo) and i whilst he has so many jobs he always aims to excel at all of them, having an incredibly particular way that tasks must be done and having them organised . because of this, he can be a lot more temperate when interacting with coworkers, especially those who don’t do their job as well, having to take matters into his own hands . as he and karen (his girlfriend throughout the series) share some jobs it puts a strain on their relationship (which was built off of the mutual ‘having several jobs’) and they break up .

even so, though larry consistently tries to propose to her in the show, in “the laziest” he doesn’t seem to be happy nor comfortable at all with the prospects of marrying her . in fact, even when he’s achieved the ‘american dream’ (properties like a house and car and a family (his girlfriend soon to be wife)) he’s unhappy . personally i don’t think he knows what he wants to do with himself ; he works all day and night and has little to no time for himself to even think in peace that the only purpose he knows is work .

i like to think he used to be an artist; self taught, it was a hobby and an enjoyment but his studies and his work took over so his one form of self expression was squeezed out of his life .. (i like making their lives as bleak as possible soz ! 🙏) he still admires the arts and i think that’s another reason he likes steve so much; his handcrafts and mini projects .

steve and larry are two opposites that are similar in ways .. but i love their dynamic so much . my interpretation of them is that steve will help larry balance out his life slightly better to leave room for himself instead of working 24/7 . steve has his head in the clouds and larry grounds him, and larry is so stuck in his ways with work that steve pulls him out of it slightly, lifting him up a little higher (AUGHHHGHH I HATE THEM I HATE THEM

as for their relationship with rob, im very much a stevelmeyer adoption truther !! both larry and steve coming from dysfunctional families, they aim to help rob and take care of him to the best of their abilities . further, larry taking on taking care of rob gives him direction in his life again . 😁😁😁😁😁😁

this isnt gonna be the last post headcanon/idea wise i still think of them 24/7 but heres jus SOME things .. (im such a yapper sprry not sorry !) :3c

[noxaeternaetc]

"The words we shared built chat GPT, the images we shared built Stable Diffusion. Generative AI is just another word for surveillance capitalism. Taking our data with dubious consent and activating it through services it sells back to us. It is a visualisation of the way we organise things, a pretty picture version of the technologies that sorted and categorised us all along.

Instead of social media feeds or bank loans or police lineups, these algorithms manifest as uncanny images, disorienting mirrors of the world rendered by a machine that has no experience of that world. If these images are unsettling because they resemble nothing like the lives they claim to represent, it's because that is precisely what automated surveillance was always doing to us."

Eryk Salvaggio, The Age of Noise, 2024

[callivich]

Random Shameless headcanons I have for characters other than Ian and Mickey post-finale….

Fiona comes back to Chicago when Frank dies. She’s dreading it. Even though she misses her family like crazy, it’s hard coming back. She gets to the airport and nearly turns back around. She’s anxious the whole flight. But when she sees her siblings waiting for her at arrivals, she breaks down in tears. There’s a big family hug. She doesn’t stay for long but she’s glad she came. From then on, she returns often.

Debbie and Carl end up running the Alibi with Tipping. Debbie hosts an LGBTQ+ quiz night once a month and meets the love of her life at one of these nights. Carl may or may not end up having a bisexual awakening at a different one of these nights. Carl and Debbie work on a whole menu of cocktails that they name after their family and friends. They bicker a bit but they don’t fight. They find they actually work well together.

Svetlana has a comfortable life. She’s single for a long while, just focused on raising Yev. She works at a run-down Eastern European restaurant as a waitress and very quickly works her way up to manager. She turns the place around and one day is able to apply for a loan and buy the place. Now she spends her days running a tight ship - a well reviewed restaurant with a perfect health score - and some of her nights sipping an ice cold vodka at the bar, impeccably dressed. There may or may not be a beautiful, rich widow who woos her….

(Don’t hate me for this one) Lip and Tami end up moving to Milwaukee where they have another baby. It’s ok for awhile but then they break up. They move back to Chicago and co-parent well together even though the breakup is bad. They try dating other people casually. But they eventually fall back in love. It takes time and a lot of trying but they get there in the end. It’s very messy. But isn’t life?

Lip ends up staying with Ian and Mickey for awhile after the break up. Although they’re family and they love each other, it feels like forever for everyone.

Despite Tami and Lip breaking up, everyone treats Tami as family and nobody cuts her out of things or sides with Lip over her. Everyone is neutral and supportive. Lip is kinda amazed at everyone’s maturity. It makes him realise how much they’ve all grown up.

Liam is a straight A student. He does incredibly well in school. He has a lot of ambition and dreams. He wants to be a defence lawyer and do as much pro bono work as he can, he wants to be a doctor and work at a free clinic, he wants to get involved with politics and help speak for those who can’t. There’s a lot he wants to do, so he starts by doing a lot of volunteering at different organisations. Because of this his applications to college are amazing. He may or may not get his siblings into volunteering too.

Debbie gets a ‘franny’ tattoo on the top of her arm near her shoulder. It’s done from Franny writing her own name. It’s both very sweet and very cool.

Mandy comes back to Chicago after a bad breakup. She’s determined to build a good life. She misses Ian and Mickey but can’t find the strength to get in contact. She knows Terry is dead. So, she has a good job, a nice apartment. Everything’s going well and then she runs into Debbie. And…it’s nice. It’s nice to see Debbie happy and healthy and with a sweet kid. Debbie encourages Mandy to get in contact with Ian and Mickey but says she’ll keep her secret if she doesn’t want to.

She doesn’t have to. Mandy gets their address off Debbie and turns up at their apartment. It’s a lot emotionally. They have a long catch up session with alcohol, some very, very good weed (better than they ever had as teenagers) and takeout. There’s laughter and tears - mostly from Ian and Mandy but also from Mickey. Yes. They saw those tears. Stop lying. She stays close with them and Debbie.

Franny and Fred and Lip and Tami’s second kid have so much fun growing up together. They have sleepovers and days out and are close like siblings. They’re close to all the older Gallaghers but they idolise Liam and he’s their favourite. He teaches them fun facts and helps them with their homework.

Kev and Vee occasionally return to Chicago with the girls, they are doing well and they rent a big house on a lake and invite the Gallaghers. It becomes a tradition once a year. Usually Fourth of July so they can watch other people’s fireworks, get drunk and party. The kids have a great time swimming and exploring. The adults enjoy Ian and Mickey’s premium weed. There may or may not be midnight swimming and very drunken Marco Polo games.

Vee and Fiona meet up for a girls weekend once a year where they find a hotel with a spa and a bar. They end up inviting Debbie and Tami after a while. Lip jokes there should be a boys weekend but he can’t be bothered to organise it.

[whumpbby]

One funny scenario that came to my mind is that when Jin Ling finally becomes a full-fledged sect leader, and gains some self-confidence and pulls the Jin out of the swamp Menu Yao pushed it in...

And then he has to deal with Huanguang-Jun as the Chief Cultivator. Fuck that.

Others may respect the man and his "righteousness" but Jin Ling knows what sort of a petty gremlin the man is. Can still be. And he knows that Lan Wangji has the political acumen of a footstool. And still has it out for anyone who ever slighted his idiot husband.

Jin Ling has no time and patience to deal with that. He cannot make waves or go against the man, his position is barely stable after all, but Jiujiu raised no bitch and Xiao-shushu raised no idiot.

Thus, when Huanguang-Jun pisses him off to much, Jin Sect Leader sends a polite letter to the Lan Sect Leader requesting the return of all the loans the Jin has issued to Gusu Lan since the war. After all, they were marked as "loans" in the official paperwork and the understanding they don't have to be returned only existed between Lan Xichen and Jin Guangyao, the terrible criminal. One could say that the money was, gasp, mishandled by the man, as none of the sect elders signed off these loans.

That was really a lot of money, and Jin Rulan had a project in mind to build some orphanages and needed liquid funds. Urgently.

Say what you will about Jin Guangyao, but his bookkeeping was impeccable, and Jin Ling had bunches of receipts at the ready.

Also, there were these 200 spirit nets Huanguang-Jun destroyed five years ago. These weren't cheap. As they were Jiang Sect's personal gift to him, Jin Rulan would like to be reimbursed for the loss. As soon as possible.

Yes, he was aware that Gus Lan didn't have such amounts just laying around and trying to organise them may as well bankrupt the sect. Isn't that a pity. He feels for them, truly. But money is money and one needs to keep an eye on their assets.

Of course, he'd be amendable to forgetting some of these debts if properly motivated.

Say, Jin Rulan would be willing to let the matter go if, for example, the Chief Cultivator kindly fucked off.

[invisibleicewands]

Actor and debt campaigner Michael Sheen has joined calls for the government to pass legislation to help tackle the crisis of unaffordable credit and problem debt in the UK. In 2022- 2023, more than 9 million were declined for credit, with millions relying on pay-day-lenders and buy-now-pay-later schemes with high interest rates. At its worst, lack of access to affordable credit means hundreds of thousands of people find themselves turning to loan sharks, while viable businesses remain stuck, unable to develop and create jobs. Campaigners are calling for a Fair Banking Act to help ensure that everyone can access essential financial services and support. 

Speaking at an event in Parliament on Monday, Sheen said:

“Anyone can find themselves in a place where they need credit to make ends meet or to get through a difficult time. The lack of affordable credit for people on lower-incomes is harming individuals and families, but also businesses and communities. Whole regions are seeing their growth held back. We can’t keep waiting and hoping that things will get better. We need something to change now. The Fair Banking Act could be the thing which really makes the difference”.  

The event in parliament was organised by the All Party Parliamentary Group on Fair Banking, alongside the Fair Banking for All Campaign – a group including credit unions, Community Development Finance Institutions (CDFIs), fintechs, charities and policy experts who are calling for a Fair Banking Act to help increase access to affordable credit. MPs, peers and financial regulators were among the attendees. 

Lloyd Hatton MP, chair of the APPG, said:

“We need a Fair Banking Act to help increase affordable lending in every corner of the country, ensure small businesses have access to the financial support they need, and guarantee that nobody is financially excluded by the mainstream banks. Only then will we deliver sustained economic growth across the whole of the UK.”

Before the election, Labour announced that financial inclusion would be a priority for them in government, with plans being developed for a comprehensive national Financial Inclusion Strategy. The Fair Banking for All Campaign is calling for a Fair Banking Act to be a central pillar of this strategy, to help grow the responsible finance sector. The idea is based on a successful example from the US, where similar legislation has successfully increased access to financial services and support for people on low-incomes and from marginalised communities. 

As well as leading mainstream banks to improve their own provision of affordable credit for underserved communities, the proposed legislation would also incentivise partnerships between high-street banks and institutions such as credit unions and CDFIs, which are often best placed to provide tailored services that meet the needs of individuals and small businesses who have been turned down by larger institutions. 

Recently published research from the Fair Banking for All Campaign estimated that a Fair Banking Act in the UK could increase fair and affordable lending to individuals by £2bn a year – equivalent to the total amount owed to loan sharks. This would help to pull the rug out from under the illegal lending market, by providing people with a safe and affordable alternative when they’re in urgent need. Additional support to small businesses could create or maintain just under 10,000 jobs over five years, including in some of the most economically deprived parts of the country – where small businesses currently find it hardest to get loans from high street banks.

Robert Kelly, chief executive of the Association of British Credit Unions Ltd, was another of the speakers at the event. He said: 

“We need more humanity in our banking system. At a time when more and more people need access to affordable credit, their options are becoming more and more limited. People are being turned down by high-street banks because of their income level or credit score, and so they’re turning to high-cost credit or illegal lending. Credit unions give them an alternative. The sector continues to serve communities and employers across the country at record levels through the provision of ethical and responsible products and services. There’s so much demand out there for this kind of alternative – but we need a Fair Banking Act so we can grow to meet that demand, and help millions more people”

Theodora Hadjimichael, chief executive of Responsible Finance which represents CDFIs in the UK, said:

“Community Development Finance Institutions (CDFIs) invest into underserved places and people, unlocking potential for businesses, social enterprises and households. For economic growth to happen, we need lenders that get to know businesses and understand people’s lives, make fair lending decisions that take these into account, and offer affordable finance, and incentives to ensure that growing demand for affordable, ethical, credit can be met. That’s why Responsible Finance is part of the campaign calling for a Fair Banking Act”.

[pannaginip]

Located 62km north-east of the capital Manila, Daraitan village in Rizal province is home to about 5,700 residents, a majority of whom are members of the Dumagat-Remontado indigenous people who consider vast hectares of the mountain range as part of their ancestral domain.

But the village may soon disappear under the same waters that give it life, once the Philippine government finishes building the Kaliwa Dam – one of 16 flagship infrastructure projects of former president Rodrigo Duterte that is being funded by China.

The new dam is expected to provide Metro Manila with an additional 600 million litres of water daily once it is finished by end-2026. Officials said building the 60m-high reservoir is even more necessary now that the country is starting to feel the impact of the El Nino weather phenomenon.

But it was only in 2021 under Mr Duterte that construction finally broke ground, three years after Manila and Beijing signed the 12 billion peso (S$288 million) loan agreement.

Of the 119 on the list [of flagship projects of the "Build, Build, Build” infrastructure programme], Mr Duterte turned to China to finance 16 big-ticket projects in a bid to cement his legacy by the time his presidency ended in 2022. He embraced Beijing during his term and even downplayed Manila’s claims in the disputed South China Sea in favour of securing loans and grants from China.

Analysts have criticised Mr Duterte’s infrastructure programme as ambitious. Perennial domestic issues like local politics, right-of-way acquisition problems, lack of technology and red tape in bureaucracy led to severe delays in the projects.

The same issues hound the China-funded projects – which come under Beijing’s Belt and Road Initiative (BRI) to build infrastructure in developing nations – with the problems made more severe by Beijing’s high interest rates in its loan agreements and local backlash due to displacement of residents or potential environmental damage.

Critics say the BRI has been detrimental in the long run to some recipient countries, especially those that have been unable to repay their loans, like Sri Lanka and Zambia.

The Duterte government’s failure to take advantage of its BRI loans was a “missed opportunity” for the Philippines, said infrastructure governance specialist Jerik Cruz, a graduate research fellow at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology.

The four completed China-funded projects under Mr Duterte were controversial too. But they came to fruition because they had the support of local politicians allied with Mr Duterte and therefore increased his political capital, said Dr Camba.

Tribal leaders said they were not properly consulted regarding the project that threatens their traditional way of life. Environmentalists from the Stop Kaliwa Dam Network also say the project would destroy 126 species of flora and fauna in the Sierra Madre.

The Philippines’ Indigenous Peoples’ Rights Act states that the government must first secure a tribe’s free, prior and informed consent before building on its ancestral lands.

But Ms Clara Dullas, one of the leaders of the Dumagat-Remontado in Rizal, alleged that the Duterte government had either misinformed or pressured other tribe members into giving their consent.

She could not bear to hold grudges, though, noting that the Dumagat-Remontado organisations that eventually agreed to the Kaliwa Dam were each given 80 million pesos, or $1.9 million, in “disturbance” fees.

“The Kaliwa Dam is the reason why our tribe is divided now. There is a crack in our relationships even if we all come from the same family,” said Ms Dullas. “I can’t blame the others because we lack money. I believe there was bribery involved.”

The government requires them to present identification documents, and only those given passes may enter. Mr Dizon said this is to ensure that no unidentified personnel enter the area [close to the construction zone].

“We feel like we are foreigners in our own home because the Chinese and the people in our own government are now preventing us from entering the lands where we grew up,” said tribe leader Renato Ibanez, 48.

Mr Ibanez also accuses the Philippine authorities of harassing tribe members who are vocal against Kaliwa Dam. Some of them have been accused of working with communist rebels, a charge the tribe vehemently denies.

Unlike his predecessor, Mr Marcos is more aggressive in defending Manila’s overlapping claims with Beijing in the South China Sea, but still fosters economic ties with it.

Geopolitical tensions between the two nations and Mr Marcos’ stance towards Beijing are going to dictate the fate of the pending China-funded projects the President inherited from Mr Duterte, said Mr Cruz.

Tribe members said they would be more amenable if Mr Marcos would revisit Japan’s proposed Kaliwa Intake Weir project that Mr Duterte had set aside.

“We like Japan’s proposal. It would not destroy our forests. It would not affect residents here. The Philippines would not be buried in debt,” said Ms Dullas.

This was among the alternatives the Dumagat-Remontados offered during their nine-day march in February 2023, when some 300 members walked 150km from Quezon and Rizal all the way to Manila to protest against the Kaliwa Dam.

But they failed to secure an audience with Mr Marcos. They remain wary of the President’s position on the Kaliwa Dam and other controversial China-funded deals.

“As much as we want to fully pin our hopes on him, we don’t. We’ve learnt from past efforts to trick us, make us believe a project is about to end, only for it to be resurrected again years later,” said Ms Dullas.

2024 Mar. 3

[anonymoushouseplantfan]

The Royal Family’s Apology for their treatment of Meghan Markle:

I’m sorry we spent £32 million on your heavily promoted wedding 

I’m sorry The King stepped in to walk you down the aisle 

I’m sorry we spent £1 million on your first-year wardrobe 

I’m sorry you only undertook 72 days of royal work

I’m sorry we gifted you and your husband the titles of The Duke and Duchess of Sussex, Earl and Countess of Dumbarton and Baron and Baroness Kilkeel

I’m sorry we spent £4 million-a-year on your security

I’m sorry we hid your alarmingly shady past from the public 

I’m sorry we covered up your rampant bullying of young professional women and then covered up the results of the bullying investigation in order to protect you

I’m sorry we gifted you an 11-room house on the Windsor estate, for free

I’m sorry we footed the £3.2 million bill to renovate your house to your liking

I’m sorry we granted you the honour of marrying in the historic Royal Chapel at Windsor Castle

I’m sorry we gave you your own independent team of staff

I’m sorry we appointed you your own adviser and assistant to make the transition to royal easier

I’m sorry you were the first girlfriend to be invited to spend Christmas at Sandringham with Queen Elizabeth II and family

I’m sorry The Queen invited you to a theatre charity less than four weeks after marrying H - the earliest ever joint engagement with The Queen

I’m sorry we invited you to the funeral of the longest-serving monarch in British history after you continued to slander everything she ever worked for in multiple interviews and podcasts

I’m sorry we granted you, an American, your own coat of arms from the 500-year-old College of Arms

I’m sorry we didn’t silence you by making you sign any NDAs, allowing you to sign multi-million-dollar deals for books, interviews and podcasts

I’m sorry we’re the reason George Clooney, Oprah Winfrey and Elton John pretended to like you

I’m sorry we gave you the opportunity to co-write a cookbook, guest edit British Vogue, and ‘curate’ your own fashion capsule. 

I’m sorry we advised you twice not to wear those blood diamonds gifted by Jamal Khashoggi’s murderer

I’m sorry our support made you feel emboldened to behave appallingly towards staff and ticket-holders at Wimbledon

I’m sorry your behaviour on the Oceania tour angered your hosts and we covered it up by encouraging positive coverage from the press

I’m sorry we invited you to The Queen’s Platinum Jubilee after you’d called us all racist abusers on international television

I’m sorry we thought you’d like to be patron of the UK’s National Theatre, we didn’t realise you’re not interested in the theatre

I’m sorry nobody stopped you from wearing a maternity coat and announcing your 8-week pregnancy at the wedding of your husband’s cousin

I’m sorry you publicly announced your first pregnancy on Infant Loss Awareness Day

I’m sorry we lied to the press about the existence of the nude pictures you took of yourself, easily available on the internet

I’m sorry we let you live free-of-charge in a two-bedroom London property while the free five-bedroom country house we gave you was renovated

I’m sorry we introduced you to world leaders, high-ranking officials and A-list celebrities

I’m sorry we helped perpetuate your lie that your degree was in ‘international relations and theatre’ and not ‘communications’

I’m sorry for all the jewellery we gifted you, including a pair of expensive pearl earrings from Queen Elizabeth II

I’m sorry we helped perpetuate your lie that you worked at the US Embassy in Argentina for several months instead of attending classes at the Embassy school organised by the uncle you didn’t invite to the wedding

I’m sorry we loaned you the use of a historic diamond-encrusted tiara

I’m sorry we took an interest in what colour your future yet-to-be-conceived baby’s hair would be

I’m sorry we permitted you to only allow American press to the unveiling of your first child in Windsor Castle, as requested, instead of British press 

I’m sorry we helped cover up that you worked with the authors of Finding Freedom

I’m sorry for allowing you to keep all those freebies you’re definitely not allowed to keep

I’m sorry your husband, a prince, didn’t explain how to courtesy to The Queen 

I’m sorry we acquiesced to you inviting celebrities you’d never met before to your wedding

I’m sorry we didn’t clamp down on you monetising your official royal engagements

I’m sorry we respected your boundaries by not hugging on first meeting

I’m sorry we allowed you to mistakenly believe you were more popular than Catherine and William

I’m sorry for providing a team of highly-trained, expensive doctors at your disposal

I’m sorry we funded a household staff of cooks, cleaners and nannies for you

I’m sorry nobody asked if you’re okay.

So sorry about all that.

😂😂😂😂