#enough to not have to worry about his mother derailing his life so there's no reason to be afraid of her

[izzielizzie]

lydia being the only penderwick mrs tifton can stand will never not be funny to me

[runnning-outof-time]

Congrats again my love!! How about Tommy and 22? Maybe some smut? Maybe some angst? I can’t wait to read what you will come up with 🤍

Thanks so much for sending this in, Chi! I didn’t go full on smut here because I can’t write it for the life me, and the angst wasn’t the main element, but this idea came to me after re-watching this episode and I ran with it. I hope I did your request justice! Enjoy! :)

PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!

Part of my 3.5k celebration — check out others!

A Long Day

Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: language, mentions of blood/injury, suggestive situations (nothing too graphic)

Word Count: 1223

Summary: After a long day, Tommy just wants to be with (Y/N). (Y/N), who’s not seen him for the entire day, has some words to say to him first.

Tommy had had a long day. After handing money to the family of the boy who shouldn’t have died, meeting with Campbell and dealing with all that entailed, making sure his derby horse was transferred to its trainer, and Michael coming to make a pitch to be considered for the spot of company accountant, he wanted nothing more now than to get his mind off of all of it.

After telling Michael that he’d need to speak with his mother about the position first, Tommy was finally heading home. The door to 6 Watery Lane couldn’t come fast enough, but when it did, he stopped to take a deep breath before opening it. He hoped there wouldn’t be another item of business waiting behind it.

(Y/N) had been sitting in the front room of the house on Watery Lane for a few hours now. She’d been waiting for Tommy, who promised her he’d meet her and that they’d go somewhere for dinner.

Her eyes snapped to the door the second she heard it open, and she was up from the couch and walking over to Tommy as soon as she saw that it was him. “Where’ve you been, Tommy?” she questioned, trying to keep her emotions in check.

“Love…” Tommy sighed, his gaze finding the far wall as she came to stop in front of him. This already seemed like it was shaping up to be another item of business.

“You said you’d meet me for dinner three hours ago. Three, Tommy! And I’ve been sitting here, worried sick about where you could be and what you could be doing. I talked to Pol, you know. She said that you…”

(Y/N) was unable to finish her worry-driven rant because Tommy had reached out and took hold of her cheeks, effortlessly bringing her lips to his in a fervent kiss, one that was effective in derailing her train of thought. The kiss lasted until her lungs were screaming for air, making her be the one to pull back; her forehead resting against his.

“Where were you, Tommy?” she asked in a breathless manner a few moments after they’d parted.

“I’ve had a long fucking day,” he responded, his statement not answering hers in the slightest. (Y/N) exhaled a sigh, her nonverbal way of telling him that his answer wasn’t good enough. He distracted her before she could speak, dropping his hands from her cheeks so that they could snake around her waist, pulling her flush against him. “I need you, love,” he mumbled, his lips finding hers again.

“Polly told me that you’re looking to have Michael join,” (Y/N) took her chance and mumbled against his lips the second he broke away from her, “said that the day hell freezes over is the day he’ll be part of the business.”

“Not now, love’,” he deflected yet again, his face dropping to the spot where her collar met her jaw, his lips finding the skin present there.

“Tommy…” she meant to sigh, but his name escaped her lips through a moan instead.

“Hmm?” he hummed into the skin of her neck, his half-minded question doing more to distract her than it did to get her to continue the conversation.

“What are you doing with the business?”

Her question got him to lift his head, and he let his eyes dance over her face for a moment, licking his lips before he responded: “I have no interest in speaking about business at this moment,” he told her in a straightforward tone. His eyes then flitted to her lips for a moment before he leaned in and kissed her again.

This kiss was even more persistent than the last, and it made clear to (Y/N) what was on his mind. She let him win this time, staying focused on the feeling of his lips against hers as her hands traveled up to rest against his cheeks.

He pulled her deeper still, the feeling of his body flush against hers making her moan into the kiss as it intensified. Her hands didn’t stay on his cheeks for long before they were traveling upward to remove the peaked cap he was still wearing. She was going to do so with the intention of being able to tangle her hands into the longer strands of his hair, but something she felt on her left hand stopped her in her tracks. It had a sticky consistency, one that made her freeze mid-kiss and drop her hands from his face.

Tommy, still not wanting to stop, began placing kisses to her jawline, his hands working to bunch the fabric of her dress up so that he could take things further with her. He had a one track mind in this moment, working fervently to get what he needed.

But those thoughts were the furthest from (Y/N)’s mind now. Now, she wanted to get to the bottom of what she’d felt on the side of his face. It took a deal of strength for her to open her eyes, but when she did, they widened immediately.

“Do you know you’re bleeding?” she asked him, shock present in her voice when she was met with the sight of her red fingertips.

The grunt that Tommy elicited in response wasn’t enough for her, so she took matters into her own hands - quite literally - by grabbing his cheeks and lifting his face up so that she could inspect it. There was no injury that was screaming at her as she looked at him head on, but the reason behind the blood became clear when she turned his head to make him look to the right.

“You’ve got a cut on your temple,” she told him, squinting to inspect the injury further. It looked to be superficial, but still she had to wonder just for how long he’d been walking around with it bleeding. “What happened?” she tried then, manually turning his head so that he’d be looking at her again.

She knew just from the look in his eyes, how the once calm oceans were now darker from an impending storm, that she wouldn’t be getting much of an answer out of him. But hey…it was worth a try.

He let his eyes travel over her face, drinking in every inch of it as a grin tugged at the corner of his lips. “Was a long day, (Y/N),” he mumbled, his hands continuing what they were doing, bunching up the fabric until he found the smooth skin of her thigh.

(Y/N) was the one to lean in for a kiss this time, and she pulled back with a similar grin present on her face. “Well maybe there’s something that can be done about that,” she told him, her voice not even needing to take on a suggestive tone for him to make the next move.

She couldn’t help but shriek as he lifted her into his arms, his hands brushing higher up her thighs as she hooked her legs around his waist. A stream of giggles left her lips as Tommy walked them to the stairs and up to his bedroom.

He may have had a long day, but at least he was - hell, they both were - ending it on a high note.

—damn y’all…I know I promised they won’t all be this long, but oh boy did I get carried away here. Sorry, not sorry!

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @onlydeadcells @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @midnightmagpiemama @cillmequick @rangerelik @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @itscheybaby @gypsy-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @youtifulsunshinelixfics @forgottenpeakywriter @cljordan-imperium @areyenotfondofmelobster @little-diable @thomashelbyswife @iambored24601 @shaddixlife

MASTERLIST

[harlowtales]

Reader finds out she is pregnant and doesn’t want to stay hidden in Jack’s life. She gives him an ultimatum.

18+ Drama and Adult Themes/Sweet🤱🏽🤰🏽👶🏼

The news that you were pregnant had Jack over the moon, but he could tell it wasn’t what you wanted at this time “Its not the greatest timing but we’ll make it work.” He said as you were having a tense conversation about keeping it or not. You were holding the test wondering what to do.

“Look I’m not ready” you said. “It’s still early in the game. Why don’t we just take care of this quietly, and we can move on” you were always better at being pragmatic than he was.

“What the fuck are you telling me? What does take care of it quietly mean?” He felt anger starting to bubble up and wanted to remember the state you were in. He couldn’t imagine his mother finding out she almost had a grandchild. Plus he loved you. “Early in the game? This is not a game” he said pulling you close and rubbing your belly. “This is my daughter” he said lovingly.

“Whoah. How do know that?” You said pulling away a bit. “I’m not sure this is what I want Jack.” You saw Jack’s face change. You knew he was so confused and you were concerned he would blame you for derailing his career. White Men Can’t Jump was such a big hit that now he was getting offers left and right. Plus you had your own business going. A child was not in your plans. But it was Jack’s baby making this extra hard because you loved him so much.

“You would be a great mom” he said trying to reason with you. “You’re smart, we make enough money…”

“We don’t even live together Jack. We tried that remember? You said bitterly

“That’s because it became a frat house and the guys don’t even spend much time there anymore. With a baby around they would respect that.” He said “If we do this you have to move back in.” He insisted “Look at me please?” He tilted your chin up with his hand and looked into your eyes. You started tearing up. “What is it?” He pleaded “What can I do to change your mind?”

“Stop flirting for starters and we go public” You said decisively. You looked at him bracing for his protest as it was a constant issue. The way Jack acted everyone on the internet thought he was single and he never talked about you to the press. He sat there for a bit. What you were proposing was a total commitment. You had to play hardball. Jack had a history of being evasive. You didn’t want to hold a gun to his head, but you weren’t going to stay hidden as the mother of his child.

“Hardball huh?.” He said. “ It’s fair, but that means you cut all ties with old boy. No running to him if we hit a rough patch.” Jack countered. You sat there contemplating what to say. Guys never get completely rid of their options. If Jack thought you were falling for that he had another thing coming.

“Ok, lose the problem 3’s numbers. Unfollow them. Even you know who.” You shot back. He knew who the problem 3 were. If you were left without a safety net, he had to do the same. You weren’t worried about randoms, but these 3 girls had staying power causing problems in the past. You and one of them had come to a brief understanding but the other two were huge bitches always trying shit.

“Ok. Deal.” He said much easier than you thought.

“Ok?” You said surprised. “That was too easy” you thought suspiciously.

“To have my family together? My own family? Fuck them.” He said decidedly “They’re nothing but a headache anyway.”

You had prepared for more of a fight and didn’t know what to say. Jack saw how thrown off you were. And smirked a little feeling a sense of victory. “So….” He said pulling you back and unfolding your arms. You melted as you always did when he said sorry or saw something your way. “Soooo?” He asked planting a kiss on you. “Are you making me a father or not?”

You hesitated to answer. Your concerns were real, but you could tell he really wanted this. Jack was a family man and a determined man. He he was close to his family. You weren’t with yours. His family became yours. They took you in and always made you feel welcome. Lately you had even had some heart to hearts with his mom. She said she knew how Jack could get and said she would talk to him and set him straight. It really helped and Jack had been making more of an effort ever since. “My mom told me to get my shit together.” He said “I get it now and I want to be there for you… and our daughter.” He promised.

This had you in full in tears. He held you close now until you stopped sobbing. “I know you’re scared. You didn’t have a family, but I am not going to abandon you or our child. My mom would kill me!” He joked trying to lighten the mood as he always did. Jack couldn’t stand tension. He wiped the tears streaming down your face. “Are you wearing the makeup from your brand baby?” He asked

Jack was random but this was really random. “Uummm yeah” you said through your sniffles “Why?”

“Because none of your mascara is running with you crying! I can endorse this product. Unfortunately I have put it to the test.” He said giggling.

His blue eyes twinkled and dimples flashed beneath his beard that was a perfect combination of being scruffy yet manicured. He had you in the palm of his hand and you hated it. It was then you knew that you wanted with all your soul to see his baby with those eyes and that dimple that you would share. This was a whole life with him. “Jack” you finally said having calmed down.

“Yes baby?” He said

“Ok.” You said

“Ok!?” He said excitedly

“Yeah.” You said “Ok, let’s do this!”

“Holy fuck! I’m a dad?” He said looking at you with all the hope he ever had

“Yes. You’re a dad.” You said smiling rubbing your tummy with the pregnancy test still in your hands.

“Fuck yeah!!!!” He exclaimed loudly flinging you around “Oh shit sorry baby.” He said carefully putting you down. “I’m calling my mom, and Urban, and Clay.”

🏷️ Tag List

@itsyagirljaz @jacks-daycare @killatravtramp @ride4harlow @jackmans-poison @heavyhitterheaux

[alteon77]

The Bizarre Breeding Habits of Anthropomorphic Personifications: Chapter 1

It's a tale as old as time.

Two idiots fall in love. Two idiots fall out of love.

Neither one of them is expecting a baby to come along and derail their unhappily ever after.

AO3 Here, Masterlist Here

May doesn't know what she's expecting really.

It's… not this, though. 

Her life, in her humble and not at all objective opinion, has always turned to crap in some form or another, and this is just more proof of that fact. She thinks as she stares down at the little white stick in her hands that she probably should have seen this coming, probably should have spotted the possibility of this catastrophe from a mile away given her often rotten luck. It's not enough that she was dumped, that she was kicked out of her home. Oh no no no. Now, she gets to be a single mother as well, and the realization of this makes her idly wonder when it is that the universe is going to start cutting her any slack or giving her even an ounce of compassion. She's pretty sure from past experience that the answer to that is a gigantic never.

In her small bathroom, she sits on the edge of the tub, scowling down at the obnoxious pink plus sign on the pregnancy test. She's partly horrified and partly angry, worrying over what in the hell she's actually gotten herself into. This is a disaster of the highest order, nothing less than the stupidest thing she's ever done. 

Her power, she knows, is going to be nonexistent while she's pregnant. For her kind, it's almost always this way, and she likely has a very limited time left before it completely disappears for a while. Which, in her opinion, sucks. She likes her power, likes being able to create things from thin air, likes to be able to defend herself. That last one especially is really important. As trouble friendly as she tends to be, the idea of being without her magic (and its ability to protect her) is kind of low key terrifying in the worst way. 

And it's not like she can expect any help from this baby's father. Her and Morpheus are finished. Done. Dream of the Endless had cast her out of his realm like a week old bag of trash, banished her from the Dreaming so completely that she was left unable to even dream. He'd looked at her like she was nothing as he'd done it, and she'd known in that moment that she was nothing to him. It had hurt more than… more than she had ever thought he could hurt her. She'd hoped, like the idiot that she sometimes is, that he would seek her out, maybe give her a chance to explain. But she hasn't heard from him in over a month, and she doesn't think she ever will again. 

Which is fine with her. Really. 

Or at least it will be. Any day now. It takes time to mend a broken heart after all. 

She contemplates this horrible mess of hers, the newest in an ungodly long string of them, and thinks she might cry. Or throw up. And knowing that she doesn't want to do either of those things again today, she forces herself to calm. Summoning up the last of her pitiful optimism, she tries to think over this as rationally as she can. This isn't completely terrible. Everything could be okay. Mortals deal with these sorts of things all the time, and they come out of it just fine. Lots of people end up pregnant unintentionally. And she doesn't have to make any decision right this minute. It might be best if she can come to terms with this and then figure out what she's supposed to do about it, figure out how to keep herself safe. She just needs to take a little time to process and think everything over. That's all.  

Of course the universe, being the salty bitch that it is, isn't going to give her something as simple as time. Not when it's so much more fun to make things worse for her. Honestly, she probably shouldn't have assumed that things could go anywhere but downhill from there. 

When Morpheus had banished her, he'd done so completely, thoroughly blocking her from everything to do with his function in an attempt to ensure that they would never see one another again. And this, on top of his casting her from the realm and verbally lashing out at her, meant that he had stripped her of her ability to dream. Since their split, she hasn't had a single night where she was capable of doing it, and so a week after learning of her pregnancy- when she sleeps and finds herself dreaming- she's… well, shocked is a good word for it. 

It takes her an embarrassingly long amount of time to realize, though, that this isn't actually her dream she's experiencing. 

She's in a tiny kitchen, the cabinets painted an unusual  green as a man putters about, humming a tune under his breath while he works. He's making tea, she thinks, and he doesn't seem to be able to see her. The invisibility is cool for all of five minutes until it starts to freak May out a little, and she finds herself trying to get the man's attention by means of clapping and waving her hands in his face. He doesn't stop what he's doing at all as she does any of this, however, doesn't let up in his work until the distinct jingle of keys being twisted in a lock sounds out through the otherwise quiet space. 

And then…. then a human sized dragon trots in the apartment wearing a smart business suit, a few shopping bags clutched between two raptor-like claws, claws that are painted a cute, entirely out-of-place pink. 

Not that May really knows what color a dragon should paint their claws. It's not something she's ever had to consider truthfully.

The man isn't even fazed by the dragon's appearance. He presses a kiss to its snout, and May realizes that the creature is also wearing lipstick to match the paint on its talons. May stares, wide eyed, while the dragon shrugs out of a deep purple blazer and sets its bags on the table before plopping down heavily into a wooden chair, a long tail peeking out from under its skirt to curl around two reptilian ankles. Or… she guesses those are the ankles? Do dragons even have ankles? Are they called something else?

Focus, she chastises herself, shaking her head slightly. The name for dragon ankles is super not important right now.

She turns her attention back to what's happening in front of her. It's almost…. sweet, really, how happy the man seems to see the dragon. And odd. It's that too. Not that May's judging. Love is love and every pot's got its own lid. It's frankly none of her business if this particular lid has scales and fangs. Each to his own and all that.

May takes a minute to glance around at the stranger's dreamscape when a few framed photos on a nearby wall catch her gaze. She almost laughs at what she sees there. They're wedding photos of the man and the dragon, him in his tux and her comically done up in a massive white bridal gown. The dragon, May gathers, is his wife. Surprisingly, it doesn't get any less strange as she continues to peruse the pictures. The bridesmaids are all giant cats wearing taco costumes, except for the maid of honor who's apparently a burrito, her fluffy feline head popping up over the edge of the tortilla it's wrapped in, bits of lettuce dangling from the bottom like fringe. And the groomsmen? Why, they're just large bottles of hot sauce with comically massive eyes, each donning black bow ties. 

May doesn't know who this guy is, but she's kind of dying to meet him when he's not dreaming. He's got to be interesting as hell if this little slice of his unconscious is anything to go by. Though she does wonder what it says about his marriage that he sees his wife as a dragon. Is that a compliment or an insult? May supposes that as far as dragons go, this one is actually pretty, like something a small child might draw. Her scales are a shimmery lavender that seems to shift with the light, and her eyes glitter green, reminding May of large sparkling emeralds. As the man talks, May moves a bit closer to inspect those iridescent wings where they're curled over the back of the chair, marveling at the otherworldly beauty of them. Somewhat transfixed, she almost reaches out to touch one amidst the peaceful lull of the conversation playing out in front of her.

This easy contentment between the couple isn't to last, however. The tone of the dream shifts abruptly when the man notices his dragon spouse staring kind of… provocatively at the toaster, her long lashes fluttering flirtatiously with the same energy of a young twenty-something chick trying to pick up a guy in a bar. May watches this unfold, unsure of what exactly is happening. They start bickering, and though May doesn't understand any of the words they're exchanging, she easily understands pissed off. It's really a language all its own, and one May is completely fluent in at that. 

She thinks, as her eyes dart back and forth between the man and the dragon, that they're fighting over the toaster. Or some imagined infidelity? Or maybe some imagined infidelity involving the toaster? It honestly wouldn't surprise her at all with the utter bizarreness of everything going on here. 

Either way, May is so enthralled by this little fight (and the prospect of something getting set on fire) that she almost doesn't notice the door when it pops up. Startled at the feeling of some great shadow looming over her, she looks away from the dragon- now raising its fists like it's about to throw hands with the smaller man- and is puzzled by what she sees.

She frowns at the unusual addition to this mundane kitchen. Well, mundane except for the square off that's about to happen between the well-dressed dragon and the poor guy that's trying to be in a committed relationship with it. Ignoring all that, though, this is really just a normal, commonplace space, and this tall, ornate thing doesn't belong. She walks over to study it, her eyes narrowing while she looks it over. There are designs carved along the frame, strange images worked into the wood of the actual door, and a dark black handle that's practically begging for her to reach out and twist it open. 

And like the idiot she can sometimes be, May stretches a hand out to do just that. 

It's a bad idea. A bad, bad idea.

When the liquid gushes out from the open door and into the dream she's in, flooding it quickly, May thinks that maybe she shouldn't have done that. By which she means she definitely shouldn't have done that.

The sudden rush is immense, briny water completely filling the space in less than a minute. Instinctively, she holds her breath as it covers her face, as she floats in the little kitchen for a few more seconds. The man and the dragon bob near her, seemingly unbothered while they continue their argument concerning the dragon's affair with the household's small appliances, bubbles escaping their mouths as they go right on yelling at one another. 

Ludicrously, May's kind of bummed that there isn't going to be a fire now and that she isn't going to see how this ends. She's reasonably sure that she's team toaster in this whole kerfuffle. Unless the toaster is sentient, of course, in which case it knew what it was getting into by having an affair with a married… er, dragon. But... is it even capable of movement? Can it run away? The toaster, that is. If the dragon's husband decides to enact revenge, will legs or wings sprout from its shiny surface to carry it to safety?

This absurdity, this disorientation of her thoughts, allows May to realize that holding her breath might just be fucking with her actual brain, starving it of oxygen so that she's feeling a bit... well, out of it.  

But that... makes no sense. This is a dreamscape, not something that should actually affect her in any real way.

Nonetheless, she resolves to leave this place, a growing anxiety urging her to get the hell away from here. Given that the entire apartment is submerged in water, though, she truthfully doesn't have a lot of options. There's really nowhere else for her to go but through the door, which she does. And once on the other side of it, she's greeted by the sight of light filtering down from above, piercing through the murky depths surrounding her. She's ridiculously relieved to see it, to have that beacon of hope to guide her. After all, it's basic common sense to make for the surface, to get to the air there so she might breathe again.

Despite that this is just a dream, the sensations around her are stunningly realistic. The water is cold, icy against her skin, and she has that unique, weightless buoyancy about her that one experiences while swimming. As she kicks her legs, they ache with the effort she's making. Her lungs, deprived of oxygen, burn with their need for it, and she briefly entertains the thought that maybe she's suffocating back home in her bed. 

The way she feels panic here is pretty damn realistic too. When she comes to the weary realization that she's not getting any closer to the top of the water, she kind of freaks out a little. Okay. That's a bit of a lie. She actually freaks out a lot. A lot a lot. Her panic is multiplied by a mere eleven billion when something grabs her from behind, holding tight around her waist where it starts pulling her, seemingly undeterred by her attempts to get free of its grasp. May imagines some prehistoric creature, something with sharp teeth and tentacles, something made of nightmares that might toy with her before swallowing her whole. Try as she might, she can't actually turn to see what it looks like, given that it's strong enough to keep her exactly where it seems to want her. She scratches at where it's got a hold on her anyway, digging her nails in hard enough to draw blood, but it doesn't even waver as it drags her up and up and up. 

All too soon, it's yanked her head above the line of the water. Despite the fact that she's probably about to be eaten by some weird, terrifying monster, she's still grateful for the sweet, sweet gulps of fresh air that she manages to draw into her starved lungs. When her chest isn't aching with the need to breathe, she tries again to twist away from the thing that has her, clawing at it in the attempt even though it hadn't helped her when the whatever had snatched her in the first place.   

"Stop struggling," a voice hisses in her ear, and May finds herself freezing, going rigid in nervous shock. 

That voice. That voice. Her stomach lurches alarmingly. It's been forty-six days since she's heard it. Not that she's counting or anything.

Because that would be pathetic and embarrassing, so she's… uh, definitely not doing that. Totally. Yeah.

"Morpheus?" she rasps out, her voice hoarse while he continues pulling her to a lone pier nestled in the vast expanse of the water surrounding them. As he gets closer, the ocean or sea (she's not sure which) rumbles loudly, energy shaking the very molecules in May's body. It burns a bit, making her grit her teeth against the force of it as the power all around seems to swell, growing heavier and heavier, more suffocating.

"Hold your breath," her orders tersely, and she doesn't have a second to question him before his grip on her goes impossibly tight and they're being sucked down into the watery depths anew.

It's not for long, though. Thankfully. The power bursts at last, water sloshing side to side, parting to form stairs leading up to the edge of the winding wood structure plopped in the middle of the sea.

Morpheus carries her to the base of them, releasing her with a mere moment more of support as she shakily gets her feet under her. Toes squishing in the mud, she manages to stand straight, flicking a hesitant glance upwards. Nothing for it, she supposes. She wants to be away from this creation forsaken water, and this seems to be the only way out. Determined, she begins climbing the steps, not expecting them to be so seriously slippery. Halfway, she loses her footing, but she doesn't actually fall, however. To her stunned amazement, there's a hand on her elbow- Morpheus' hand- bracing her before she can tumble down. It's a rough gesture, one that she thinks he does more instinctively than anything else. He's radiating rage and wrath, but she knows that he used to be oddly gallant, prone to such gentlemanly behaviors when they were in love. 

The way that he's glaring at her now, though, is anything but gallant or gentlemanly or loving. May looks him over, noting worriedly that he seems thinner than usual. Paler too, she thinks, but that could just be an effect of the blue and white light made by the many glittering stars swirling above them. She stretches her fingers to the inside of her opposite arm and pinches herself. Hard. It especially hurts given how cold she is, and May thinks in a fuzzy, disoriented way that she's not in a dream anymore, that she's actually in the Dreaming. Her stomach churns violently at the reality of that, enough so that she's worried she might throw up.

If she does that, she's for sure going to die of actual humiliation. Can somebody even die of humiliation? Is that a real thing? If it's not yet, and she pukes all over him, then it's definitely going to be. Because she's going to be the first to do it. A pioneer in the worst way.

"How are you here?" he demands, his hands clenched into fists at his side. His eyes are pitch black with fury, and May almost shrinks back from them. 

"I… I was dreaming. I thought…" She glances down, unable to bear the expression of loathing on his face for even a second longer. What had she honestly thought? That he had undone her banishment? That he had removed the block between her and the realm? That he had changed his mind? Surely, she should have known better. Bad tempered and stubborn aren't two qualities that lend much to the possibility of forgiveness, and Morpheus is nothing if not bad tempered and stubborn. "I don't know."

Only, she realizes that's not exactly true. She might not know for certain, but she's maybe got an idea of how she'd gotten here given that she has a little being currently growing inside of her and all, one that's half Dream itself. 

"You are banished. You should not have been able to enter any dream. You most assuredly should not have been able to travel through one into this realm."

She reminds herself to stay cool. He's probably just waiting to catch her in a lie. "I don't know why I'm here. What is it you want me to say?" It's not technically her deceiving him. She doesn't know for sure. She's really just guessing that it's the baby letting her walk through dreams and into the Dreaming. 

"Is this magic of some sort? What could you possibly have been meddling in to-"

"No magic. I don't know. Okay?"

His eyes, those dark wells of the abyss that they are, blaze at her. "Whatever it is you've done to accomplish this, do not think to repeat it. Your banishment stands. You are no longer welcome in my realm."

His realm. It's his realm again. Only his. Mere months ago, he had wanted to marry her, had wanted the Dreaming to be theirs. He had told her that it would be her home for the rest of eternity. To hear him call it only his is like knife between her ribs. "Message received. I won't repeat whatever it is that I didn't even do in the first place. Is that what you need to hear? Does it make you happy for me to take the blame for something that isn't my fault?"

"Nothing concerning you," he growls, his voice low and harsh, "elicits happiness in me."

Ouch. Her heart feels like it's breaking all over again, her chest getting tighter and tighter until she worries that she might start crying. She hopes against hope that she doesn't look as fucking broken as she feels at his words. The many sorrowful emotions churning in her stomach, she decides, she'll blame on the hormones. Her eyes burn, and she's struck with the overwhelming urge to run away, though she realizes that she can't since she's essentially trapped on this stupid pier with nowhere else to go but back into the water. And she's not going to do that.

No matter how tempting it might be right now. 

She's been without her magic for all of a week, and this is the most she's mourned the loss of it in those seven days. She's going to have to ask him for help, and the thought of having to do so stings her already bruised pride. There's nothing crappier when facing an ex than to have to plead for their assistance. 

"If you want me gone, you're going to have to shift me away. I can't exactly leave the way I came in," she bites out, crossing her arms over her chest defensively, waiting for the inevitable argument to come.

He scoffs at her, his expression mocking. "Surely your magic is capable of such a minuscule feat?"

She could hate him for that if only she could assume he knew that he was rubbing salt in the wound of her magic being temporarily lost. "Do you honestly think I'd still be here if it was capable of such a minuscule feat?"  

His eyes narrow while he studies her, a calculation in his gaze that's alarming, and May resists the urge to fidget under his scrutiny. "There is something… different about you."

No shit, May wants to say. I'm heartbroken and pregnant and the father of my child hates my guts. "I'm fine. Now can you send me home, or are we going to stand here all night and glare at each other?"

His lips purse in what May used to call his Blue Steel face, though he never got the reference for that particular bit of teasing. His eyes, still those angry black pools of anger, rake over her. It makes her uncomfortable and horny at the same time, and that she will absolutely blame on her pregnancy hormones when she can take a minute or two to process this mortifying situation. 

"Very well," he tells her, and May hates the way that she misses the sound of his voice, the way that she wants to take off her clothes and roll around naked in the thick, rich timbre of it. 

His power is gentle where it settles on her skin, soft like a lover's caress, and that makes everything so much worse. When she reappears in her house, she half staggers to her living room to collapse on her couch and start sobbing, big hiccuping sobs like the kind children give when they want something they can't have. She's so miserable that it takes her over an hour to realize that she's still soaked through. 

And she thinks then that her ending the day by crying wretchedly in a puddle of freezing water perfectly sums up her life right at this moment. 

Next chapter here

[pocato]

@raisans-art hello! I love your wing AU! Also I don't trust tumblr to send this via ask so I'm just gonna tag you!

So, after reading a bit about your ideas, I started thinking. How would Ingo fall to Hisui?

The answer decided to come as a fanfic!

Warning for mentions of wounds and well... hunting and all the things that come with that.

Cold. So cold. All around him.

Has the ground always been this white?

Where was he before?

The weight on his back shifts, but he quickly comands it to stop. Moving those hurts too much.

Everything hurts, So Much.

Who is he?

Before this all encompasing whiteness, was there something? A name? A memory? Someone else?

The cold seeps into his bones and chills his feathers to the core. He should move, keep warm in motion. He's too tired to do so.

Contemplating his last moments and seeing if he can reach the other life with at least a way to call himself, the figure falls unconsious.

A curious purple creature approachs it. It's not familiar with this one's scent. Must be an outsider. What is it doing wandering so far?

No matter, this being needs help, and giglar is too small to carry it. Luckily, a machoke is nearby with it's young, so with a promise of a challenge, the mother aids the fallen one to reach a safer place.

When he comes to, he finds himself nestled somewhere warm. He hurts less too. A memory flutters to the forefront of his mind. He grasp it with a desesperation he didn't believe himself capable of.

A man in white smiling, calling someone. Was it him?

Ingo!

He's not quite sure, but at least now he has a name for himself.

He decides to open his eyes, and finds himself far too close to a smiling blissey. How uncourt of him! He's sleeping on her pouch!

The sound of other pokemon rouse him fully. He's safe here, these kind creatures came to his aid. He would thank them all if his throat wasn't killing him. Best he can do is offer a tired coo and chirp.

This seems to be enough. He's glad.

After a bit of moving, he manages to stand, but it's quite obvious he shouldn't move too much. Blissey eggs can work wonders, but they don't heal humans that well...

How does he know that?

Not important right now. He needs fire, water and if possible, food. There's a bit of wood in this cave, so he just needs to ignite it and then search something that can hold snow to boil it.

Machoke decides to help, seeing that what he tries is also helpful for everyone inside. Gligar goes out, possibly to search for food. Hopefully it brings extra.

The little machop finds a bowl shapped thing seemingly made of metal between the other stuff that was near him. A pat on her head as a thank you is very well recieved.

Cave becoming cozier by the minute and snow slowly melting, is when he strips of his outer layers to help them dry, and curls his wings around himself. Moving them stills hurts, and the hiss he can't quite contain arouses the worry of his companions.

Timing is on his side and this is when gligar returns, bearing the spoils of her hunt. He's not quite sure how to prepare the meat for consumption, so he leaves that for later while he stabs berries to roast over the fire.

Once he (mostly) manages to skin the carcass, he prepares it to smoke it until cooked. A bit of weirdly crunchy salt will help it have extra flavor and also make it last longer.

Like that, surrounded by good company, is how he spends his first day in an unknown land.

Next time he wakes, the fire was out, his clothes dry and he had enough energy to try to find food by himself. He tries to take flight, but his body demans he stays on the ground.

His companion seem to have an idea of what he wants to do, so they follow him while he searchs for more wood, water and food.

He finds a few mostly dry and small logs, some weird radishes, more berries, a few chunks of salt, one or two mushrooms that seem safe for human consumption and other things that will hopefully help him. Coming back to the cave to leave his treasure, he's derailed by blissey who insist on going in a certain way.

They find themselves in a termal water lake. Oh! Blissey can boil he egg here and make it's healing more potent!

Apparently they're not the only ones interested, a few pokemon of all kind come near and blissey is more than happy to share.

Ingo feels good enought to strech out his wings, but it seems he needs another sesion before he can soar again. Grabbing his treasure, they make way back to camp. But they stop when gligar anouces the precense of another pokemon in front of the entrance.

An abra is floatting dangerously close to the ground, seems he was attacked, managed to flee but it was drained. Blissey wouldn't have more eggs until later. So he decides to approach. The small abra tries to use it psychic powers, but they're so weak right now, they only blur his vision a little.

When he manages to get close enough, the poor thing collapses on the snow. He cradles it within his arms and makes a cocoon with his wings then goes inside the cave to see if any of the food he found can be used as medicine.

Machop points towards a leek, and once he hands it over, they crush it and squezze it's juice over the wounds of the abra. He makes a pulp with oran and sitrus berries and slowly feeds his newest passenger.

Once they're treated, he lays them to rest against him and covers them with his wings. Blissey and machoke cuddle together to keep warm after starting the new fire. Machop and gligar both decide to joing him and lean against him while he takes part of the guest nest that blissey leaves for her patients.

He drift into dreamland looking at the fire, and for a moment, he swears he saw a flicker of purple.

The next day arrives and abra seems to be doing better! And as a matter of fact, so is he!

He manages to do small take offs, but he's still too tired for proper flight. In a pinch he can glide, but better leave it for emergencies. Safety first!

He decides to bring a bit more food to stock up and repay the pokemon's kindness. As much as he doesn't mind their company, he will, sonner or later, need to find people like him.

The leek trick machop showed him the other day came in handy, he uses the juices to preen his feathers and heal the bumps that hurt the most.

The direction they have choosen today guides them towards a temple, but it seems quite empty of human life. A huge... Braviary? (They're not suppoused to look like that, but how are they suppoused to look like in the first place? And how does he know what it is? His head hurts.) Looks down on them, but otherwise leaves them alone.

On the way back the earth starts shaking. Looking up almost gives him a heart attack. That's the biggest pokemon he has ever seen, wherever it's going, he's going to wait far away until he can fly, or make sure no one get's crushed.

Another day, another session of boiled egg, another night cuddling for warm. Time passes as he slowly heals and learns more and more about the place he ended up in. Sometimes he can't sleep, and goes to the entrance and hears the calls of the ghost that trive at night. He avoids exploring on his own, always some of his new agents go with him to keep in out of trouble, much too curious for his own good, their gazes seem to say, even if there's fondness hidden away in a exasperated frown.

Gligar and him take to the skies once blissey gives the ok, and he makes a few rounds of everywhere they been. On the distance, there's a mountain that reaches the heavens. The sky has not been unclouded since he arrived, and he's reluctant to break through and lose sight of everything for now.

His wariness pays off, there's smoke in the distance, far too clear to be a fire type. He get's very excited, and dives down to get a closer look. The night gives him cover with his darker plumage and black clothes, and he manages to make out a few humans making rounds near a settlement. Why aren't they flying? No matter, he leaves in search of his friends, he must thank them and bid them goodbye.

Only, the littlest ones in the group refuse to separate from him. Hm, he's not sure he can carry machop, (there's a device that allows him to carry pokemon easily, he's quite certain, but he has none with him, a shame) so he'll just fly slowler. He's about to depart when machoke holds him back. Right, is late. Better go in the morning and try to bring with him some of the stuff blissey won't need.

Morning paints the clouds a light grey and after they say goodbye, he makes way towards the settlement with new cars attached to his train.

(What's a train?)

Little machop runs ahead, but the guards of the place among the snow shout and draw spears towards his charge. That's not right.

A shout comes from the ground, in a language he's vaguely familiar with. For the first time, he realized he has almost completly comunicated with animalistic sounds. He really needs to talk to people again. But he's going down the wrong track. Focus!

The guards try to make machop go away, but they nick her little fist instead. She cries out in pain, and he growls.

He dives down in front of her, shielding her with his whole wingspan. Abra teleports right behind him, and gligar perches on his shoulder.

The people are afraid. And well, this is not the best first impresion, but they shouldn't harm a peaceful pokemon! He tries to communicate as such but, the language escapes him, only the most basic of words come to the forefront.

"No hurt friend."

That came louder than he expected, but he's not suprised. He's angry but he should control his volume. He learned some time ago how easily sound creates avalanches.

A muscular man, followed by an elder woman and a teen, break out of the group of terrified people. (Did he do something wrong? Their guards hurt an innocent creature!) They seem to be muttering a word that reminds him of zoroark and zorua, but also brings pain to his head, so he ignores it and tries to appear less hostile. Retracts his wings, but uses them to shield his friends. Passes a berry to machop to eat and heal, which he knows she appreciates.

"Stranger."

It seems that the others finally decided to adress him, so he gives them his full attention and his gaze zeroes on the teen, the one who spoke.

"What are you? What are you doing here?"

Either he misunderstood something, or they're quite rude. Still, after translating the best he can, he answers.

"Me, Ingo. And lost. Help?"

By the looks of the three who came foward, this is going to be a very tedious hassle.

Welp, that's it! Hope you like it! Drew inspiration from this twitter thread too:

[miusmusings]

Parents in BMF

Sooo, Be My Favorite has been hitting too close to my heart since ep 1. But this ep topped it off ahaha I did not sign up for this where's the cutesy show I can watch without feeling anything

There's already been a lot of (frankly wonderful) discussions about it, but this stuff hits close to home so I had to write a bit, too. Prior warnings for (mostly) personal thoughts, disorderly ramblings, and discussions of homophobia.

About Kawi

We start off the series with saving Kawi's family as one of the goals. But what is 'family' to Kawi? Kawi gives us a lot of info about his background - He is poor (one of his main insecurities that plays into his sense of self), his mother has remarried and moved away, and his father is mortally ill.

From Kawi's words, it's clear that he is not at all close to his mother. So, he probably did not have a mother figure growing up. Did he even have a feminine figure he was close to throughout his childhood and adolescence? A playmate, a neighbour, an aunt? (Not really, I think)

Is that why he values his 'crush' so much?

A woman showed him kindness and interest for perhaps a very, very long time, in a foreign setting where he feels vulnerable, and he latched to it. Can't blame him for that. But that brings up an interesting possibility—The feelings Kawi has for Pear, are they of an inherently romantic nature? Or are they of some other kind, but which Kawi chooses to label as romantic, because he has little to no experience with female affection whatsoever?

Anyway, I was supposed to talk about Kawi's dad and got derailed.

So, Kawi's father.

Someone who loves Kawi a lot, as evident from his unwillingness to touch the fixed deposit he has because it is saved for Kawi's future. He refuses to get expensive treatment that is crucial for him to live him because he does not want to land Kawi in debt. (He also refused to talk about his disease in the initial eps, perhaps because he does not want his son to worry about him and affect his studies.)

So, Kawi at least had a positive father figure in his life. (who evetually becomes the reason why Kawi starts chasing his dreams!! Woot to healthy fathers in bls and in reality!)

But, it also makes me wonder, would Kawi's father accept the fact of him being a part of the queer community? Since BMF is a bl show, the answer is perhaps yes. (Though BMF is giving so many surprises each week I feel that this may just be hmmm... not true... hm... deep in delulu) But if this was in the real world, would he, an aged asian person with perhaps negligible knowledge about the queer community, learns that his so-far-straight son has suddenly 'turned gay' (using this term cause this is what I've heard ppl use irl when talking about their kids coming out...), be ok with it? Would he accept Kawi?

(I REALLY really wanna see Kawi coming out to his dad. LIke. Give it to meeee gmmtv.)

About Pisaeng

Contrasting Kawi's openness about his family (despite his insecurities about it), we have Pisaeng, who gives us no info about his family.

In all the prev eps, we got little mention of Pisaeng's family. And when we did, it was from Pear, saying that Pisaeng had a lonely childhood with no friends other than her and Not. (Which struck me as weird, cause Pisaeng, with his friendliness, ought to have many. making assumption about extroverts...i'm sorry. Ofc, we later learn the reason for this.)

Anyway, Pisaeng *does not* bring his family up, ever. He refuses to talk of the past. What could have happened back then?

In ep 6, finally, we get an idea.

It's Max, dearest Tired Queer who never fails us, who brings it up (the irony!)

But, even faced with the direct question, Pisaeng clams up and refuses to talk. (At this point I didn't realize what was happening it, just thought we were hating on politicians like we always ought to. And that Pisaeng's last name is very common in Thailand.)

And this wannabe politician lady is liberal enough on the media to have an out and proud queer person like Max follow her because he likes "what she says."

I need a breather cause this is so close to reality that it's nauseating

We later know that liberal politician lady is Pisaeng's mum. And all her liberal thoughts are just for the show. She employs people who are from the queer community but then uses them to spy on her son. (another breather needed asap)

Now, I wouldn't have realized this part if @bengiyo hadn't pointed this out in their post about how Pisaeng has been forced into the closet by his *liberal queer-supportive* mother, who also insists on controlling his life, his sexuality, and even his friends. Look at @jjsanguine's post on Pisaeng's mother and her view of frivolous friendships! It's soo... TwT. There *are* parents who insist their children don't make friends cause according to them the wrong sort of friends will get them into trouble in their future life (aka employment/career. Frick society and its- everything, actually.)

As much as I hate her for her horrible parenting, for her blatant lies about acceptability, and for using queers to hunt down their own community, and for being a politician (there's smt inherently wrong with ppl in politics, smt or the other, you can't convince me otherwise), I can't help but marvel how real her character is. Cause yeah, this stuff happens every day. I've seen others experience it, and I've experienced it myself.

That said, I can also see *where* Pisaeng's mum is coming from. (His name is so long I wanna call him Saeng but we got soo many Saeng's in bls recently ueue). As in the thought that drives their behaviour.

I think Pisaeng's mother operates on this—It's ok as long as it's not one of ours aka queerness in fine, as long as it's other people, as long as it does not affect our children.

I dunno about Thailand, but in my part of Asia, this is the often the *most* acceptability queers get. This, or outright homophobia. (breaths.)

Parents (ie the 'cool' ones) are ok with lgbt+ as long as their kids don't come out one day, or heavens forbid, bring a partner home. I do believe there are some parents who accept lgbt freely, but like, in my 19 yrs of experience, none of the parents (the ones who were ok enough to hold such a talk with in the first place) were. I hope some parents out there are more accepting :')

If you belong to a particularly liberal upper/upper middle class family, and you show your parent an lgbt ad, talk about the latest legislature that decriminalized homosexual relationships, or the ongoing court case about legalizing same sex marriage, they'll be ok with that. They'll nod their head and say 'progress'. (Though a lot more parents would beat you/inflict other kinds of abuse on you. Also honour killing.)

But heaven forbid their child becomes a part of that community. Then, there are talks of soothsayers, 'treatments', "it's just a phase", cutting off the child's friends and their access to phone cause they've been "badly influenced".

At the end, if the person still insists on being a part of queer community, the parents will force them to hide it. Not to tell anyone about it, to go back to the closet. Which is exactly what happened with Pisaeng. Only, Pisaeng's mother makes it worse (should there be a difference in levels of homophobia?) by using this pseudo acceptance for profit.

Their worry? The person's future. Their career, jobs, social standing. Because yes, even with legislatures, being queer can hamper one's access to education, health, and job opportunities, among many many other things. (To say nothing about the recent rise in hate crimes in my country...)

Often, this behaviour comes from parental love (a very twisted love that is), because most parents do not want their children to suffer, which they inevitably would if they lived their queer lives openly in the current social conditions.

But it also comes from prejudice, hate, and as urge to control. In many cases, parents refuse to accept their children have grown up, and are in a place to make their own decisions. Instead, they try to dictate every thought and every behaviour, including the choice of marital partners. (Ik arranged marriage au is often a thing of joke in the bl circle but, it's so real, guys. It happens way too often and tho it's mostly not a coercive thing... it sometimes is).

Also, surveillance. Parents often pry on phones, it's uncomfortably common place. I know a (not lgbt) friend whose parent had hired a private detective to spy on them cause they were afraid said friend would go into bars and get into drugs after entering uni.

So yeah. It's a circus. It'd be a funny one if this wasn't real life. >.>

So anyway anyway, Pisaeng's mother and her words made me think a lot sooo... I thought-dumped!

When I started watching BMF I thought it'd be a funny little show that would help me relax after a hectic week. Who knew it'd make me write so much about so many things. (I also blame Tumblr.)

This got wayy too personal at the end so like, congrats if you read till here. I kudos your patience for reading my disorganized mess of thoughts. Have a cookie/cupcake/chicken fritters(they are so! good!)/other food of your choice and I hope your weekend goes reallyy well!

ALso I hope Pisaeng's mother gets her just desserts. Even if she accepts him in the end, her past behaviour is horrible. And who knows if she won't use her financial and political power to harm the queer society later? People in power always under suspicion tbh

Also I just realized we have got nothing about Pisaeng's father...

[proceduralpassion]

More Than A Woman | Chapter 01

A/N: Chapter one, here we go! Lmk if you wanna be added to the taglist...

WC: 1.5K

“Hi, Mr. Reyes. We spoke on the phone.” Her statement came out more like a question because Desi wasn’t so sure he’d even remember. He sounded like a ghost when they’d first talked and even as he walked into her office, his mind seemed elsewhere. His handshake was robotic and his eyes were vacant.

They both sat down across from each other.

Desi looked at him for a moment, taking in the anguish and darkness that emanated from him. 

“So how’s this go?”, he gestured between himself and the school’s psychologist, “He ain’t in trouble, is he?”

Desi shook her head immediately, “Oh, no no. This is more so a check-in, if anything. I was alerted of recent circumstances, Santi’s mother passing away… That’s a tough thing for anyone to go through, much less a six year old.” 

To acknowledge her comment, he absentmindedly nodded his head. Tough thing to go through. That was the fucking understatement of the year, he thought to himself. A moment passed and Angel realized he should speak.

“Yeah, we split, but kinda got good with the co-parenting thing. He mostly lived with her, though. I’m sure it’s been a lot for him.”

And because he hasn’t really been the most observant father, Angel kept his mouth shut about whether he saw any signs to worry about when it came to his son. That was okay, though, because Desi Maduro, Ed.S. had been attentive enough for the both of them. She had already had several conversations with the young boy and found he was surprisingly talkative for a kid who mostly stuck to himself in the classroom and playground.

“Yeah, he mentioned he would spend his weekends with you,” Desi spoke with a comforting smile. She let a pause hit the air before continuing, “Mr. Reyes, you have a resilient, intelligent, and sweet young boy. And like I said, while I’m not necessarily worried for him, I’d really like to encourage you to engage yourself more with him. Maybe start an open dialogue at home, so that he feels comfortable whenever he wants to share something-”

“My son is fine,” he interrupted sharply. His face was a mix of confusion and defensiveness as he looked at her.

Not wanting this conversation derailed sideways, she immediately conceded, “Of course! I have no doubt. I just figured I could give you a few things to look out for in the case should they arise. Grief is not as linear as one might think it is, so even if Santi seems fine, we still want to keep a close eye on him-”

“Explain that.” He interrupted again. At the look of uncertainty on her face, he prompted, “What you said before, that shit about an open dialogue and shit.. What did you mean?”

His tone was less aggressive this time and he even seemed a bit embarrassed, shy. The outburst was probably a reactionary thing, more than likely something culminating from his own grief from losing his child’s mother. But now, he seemed actually intent on listening and comprehending the foreign concept.

Desi smiled again, hoping she conveyed softness and understanding. “This is a whirlwind of a time for a young child. Kids thrive on stability and structure. A big part of that is gone now that Stephanie is no longer here. Even though he may still be too young to grasp the concept of death, it can still be traumatizing for a child to have someone in their life for as long as they can remember and then one day that person is no longer there. And you’d be surprised at the way kids can act out, even at his age. Now, again, Santiago hasn’t gotten into any trouble or displayed any behavior of concern, but we want to be proactive. He needs people that he can express his emotions to. Emotions that can be super big for such a small body. Being that you’re now his primary caretaker, it makes sense that that person should be you. Along with making sure you’re establishing a routine for him, you should also talk with him, be affectionate with him… I know you’re probably dealing with this loss yourself. It’s okay for him to know that you’re sad, too.”

Angel scoffed to himself. He focused hard to take in every word that she said and he couldn’t help but get more and more overwhelmed as she continued to go on. He didn’t know anything about putting together a daily routine; school was Santi’s fill of that while everyday at home could be unpredictable based on what the MC demanded of Angel at the moment. And affectionate? He shook his head to himself knowing he hadn’t been much of that lately. Disappointment filled his veins. If anything, Santi needed more affection now than ever, but Angel hadn’t been paying close enough attention to that. 

Desi watched the various emotions flash over his face and felt for him. He didn’t seem to be the kind who purposefully distanced himself from his son. He’d probably been wrapped up in his own grief while also carrying on with life. Of course, his child should come first, but she could see the remorse on his face as he came to some realizations.

After a moment, she allayed, “You don’t have to have all the answers. Sometimes, the best thing you can do is just listen.”

Angel nodded again, this time trying to put forth more effort into actually listening.

“What does he say? You’ve talked to him, right? So, what does he say? What does he talk about?” Angel inquired curiously. He winced as he prepared to hear her reply, not ready to know of some of the pain his son’s been feeling. 

“Well, it was obviously a very shocking thing to him, at first. He talked about how scary the funeral was,” Angel shook his head in suffering, knowing that he hadn’t even picked up on Santi’s fear. He wouldn’t have ever forced him to go if he knew the whole thing scared him. He harshly cursed himself, knowing that he potentially traumatized his son even further. Desi continued, politely ignoring his agony, “I think he’s only just now coming to terms that his mom is gone for good. Of course, I can see he still has moments where a particular emotion may spring up, but he’s not more or less withdrawn in class according to his teacher.” 

Again, Angel took the time to try and absorb the counselor’s words and what this all meant. He was, for sure, out of his depth and didn’t know where to start in attempting to be a more active parent. 

“I know that this is hard for both of you, but I think that establishing a routine and adding some structure to Santi’s will be beneficial for the both of you. Soon enough, you’re gonna have to learn how to help Santi have a life without his mother. Not so that he forgets her, but so that he knows how to move on and keep the memory of his mom alive.” 

But how? Angel thought to himself. 

And then he vocalized it.

“How do I do that?”

“Try. Obviously, it’s more to it than that, but don’t stop making an effort no matter how hard it is. Santi might not feel 100% comfortable sharing his feelings with you all the time, but the best thing you can do is to never stop trying. Mr. Reyes, this isn’t going to be a cake walk. But he’s young and I see a loving father sitting in front of me. That’s the most important thing.”

Angel smiled a little at that.

“And you’re sure he’s doing fine considering?”

“Yes. There may be little outbursts or behavioral changes as time passes, but there’s nothing that’s cause for concern right now,” she comforted. And then she added, “Try to put together a daily schedule for him to follow. Something fun to do when he gets home. And then homework time. Dinner and a bath. Simple things just to give him a little more normalcy.”

“Thank you,” He stood from his seat and nodded appreciatively at her. Turning towards the door, he adjusted his kutte and stretched out his long legs. Before he turned completely away, she handed him a post-it with her contact information on it and gestured to walk him out the door.

“You’re welcome. I really appreciate you taking the time to talk with me, Mr. Reyes. Please, I’d really love for us to keep in contact so we can manage Santi’s progress together.”

Angel nodded again, completely serious about trying to maintain contact with her. 

He wouldn’t keep this up anymore, it was time for him to step up and be the parent that Santi needed.

“It was nice to meet you, Mr. Reyes. Have a good day!”

Angel took a final glance back at her as he walked out the school’s main exit. Her braids were wrapped up into a messy bun and a few of them fell around the frame of her face. She bid him off with a final, friendly smile and turned back towards her office. 

Tagging: @drabbles-mc @mijagif

[too-much-tma-stuff]

Hunted Again

Pairing: Gerard Keay/Casper

Fandoms: The Magnus Archives, A Date with Death

Spoilers for the Sealed with a Kiss ending.

This is maybe the most self indulgent thing I've ever written but you know what? It's free dopamine and the perks of being A Creative include sometimes getting to write self indulgent crack fics.

------

After his cancer scare the doctors told Gerard that they had no idea how he survived. The surgery had been a long shot to begin with, he had been told that, that he was probably going to die. But honestly, he hadn't been worried because the amount of times he had miraculously survived was getting truly ridiculous. He tried not to take it for granted but with how his life had gone, the way he danced between the fears, it only made it more obvious.

Still, that was the closest he'd ever come, and Gertrude had left him so he left her. It wasn't hard, they had been traveling together but it's not like he had an address, a job, anything besides a name that she could use to track him. When he was let out of the hospital he simply walked away.

He wasn't getting any younger and he wanted a life, with Mary's ghost dealt with and the feeling of being indebted to Gertrude broken nothing was holding him back. He had some savings, enough to get a studio apartment, a mattress, and some canvases and paints. He had no traditional work experience but if even his mother could praise his art he must have been good at it. So he painted, and then sold the paintings, and bought more canvases to paint more.

It wasn't long before he built up a bit of a reputation, not just for the beauty of his art but for the.. odd affects. It was nothing bad, he would have stopped if it seemed like he was making more artifacts for the fears but it was something else. He believed deep in his soul that there were no beings of light or hope or love or any of that shit but still... His paintings seem to bring the people who bought them some amount of protection.

He never guaranteed anything but still, people came to him, and he could See the marks on their souls. This one was touched by the lonely, that by the spiral, and he could paint. Not what they wanted, but what they needed. Eyes and parallel lines, and a faceless party. A shield, not a foolproof one, but one enough to buy them time if they had it in them to rejoin the safety of the herd. It exhausted him every time, but it paid well enough that he could rest between pieces, or work for fun.

He still traveled too, kept his nose to the wind for signs of Leitners, but he never saw Gertrude again and he avoided all the monsters as best he could. He even got himself a pet, a snake because he thought that if he died it wouldn't mind to much. And he knew he would die eventually, especially because the insane near death experiences Continued! Even when he wasn't anywhere near anything to do with the fears pianos fell right behind him, trains derailed while he was alone at the station, it was ridiculous!

And yet he kept on living, and at some point you just had to laugh at these things or you give in to the paranoia and the fears take you. Maybe he had already been taken by The End without realizing it and that was why this was happening, but whatever.

He rarely used his computer honestly besides communicating about commissions so when he got a notification his first assumption was that. But when he went to his computer the there was a strange app he hadn't installed. Huh, well delete it and move on.

More notification. What the fuck? How did it reinstall?! Gerard nearly got rid of it immediately, because the last thing he needed right now was more spooky shit! But there was no proof this was supernatural yet, he could admit to himself that he was so focused on the fears he sometimes forgot humans could be assholes too. Besides he didn't know much about tech, this was probably just a hacker. He deleted it again.

This time he watched as it installed itself again immediately and scowled. Greeat, well, might as well see what bullshit life was throwing at him now.

He opened the app and was immediately treated to someone claiming to be the Grim Reaper and rambling to himself when Gerry didn't respond right away to the demands for his soul. He covered his mouth to stifle a smile. He'd met real reapers, servants of the end, and this person was nothing like this. Gerry let go of his anxiety and decided to have a little fun, responding to the hacker just for a bit of fun.

-----

Days later he would be the first to admit this had gotten out of hand, and well and truly shaken his world view. He has known about the fears, the supernatural forces in the world, hell he even knew about reapers, but nothing like his Little Reaper, Grim, Casper. The sweet, spooky, stupid being who Gerry had let into his soul despite fully knowing the risks.

Playing dumb for fun had turned into, playing dumb to get more information, then finally playing dumb because he genuinely didn't know what to do. He had had a few relationships but they had all been short and ended in tragedy, he was too wound up with the fears to be truly close to anyone. Anyone mortal, maybe... maybe a Grim reaper would be perfect?

When he'd asked about Gerry's family he very nearly panicked, but when he'd said he wasn't ready to talk about it Casper had been so understanding. So perfectly willing to let it go! Gerry tried not to be suspicious Casper already knew. He had a feeling the Reaper had started following him After his brain cancer, but if that was the case how much did he know?

When should Gerry ask? When should he tell Casper. It didn't feel like it was time yet, but if he only had a week left maybe he needed to just bite the bullet and do it! Surely Casper had to know about the fears, at least The End. But he hadn't referenced them once...

It was absolutely ridiculous, it didn't make any sense, and yet Gerry believed it. It was amazing. When Casper told him about the way Gerry had been giving away parts of his soul to help people, being a personification of life it threw everything he'd believed back in his face. There was good in the world, he could do good in the world, had been for YEARS.

When he hung up the call with Casper he cried, just lay in his soft bed with the blue comforter and bawled. He wasn't even truly happy, but it was a release a long time in coming. And the next day Casper was there again, waiting for him and still as kind, charming, and bashful, and only a few more days left on the bet.

There was something he wanted to do first if he was going to die, so he set up his easel and paints again. carefully he arranged the bouquet of flowers Casper had brought him in a vase and started to paint it. He his spirals in the centers of the flowers, eyes in the leaves, clouds in the petals, and put his entire heart into every stroke of his brush. If Casper took his soul, he would have to take the painting too, and hopefully it would protect one of the few people who'd brought genuine joy and love into his life.

He shouldn't have worried about that really, because Casper didn't even try to take his soul. When he spoke about leaving his job, his life, quitting being a reaper to be with Gerry it... Well it was just another earthquake reshaping Gerry' worldview, one of many this week, but another welcome one.

"Yes," He agreed immediately, "You're welcome here, I'll leave the window open."

He got up and unlocked it, sitting on the bed and staring at the window, anticipating Casper's arrival.

"You really left it- Oh!" he sounded as Gerard grabbed Casper's arm and dragged the other man into his arms. He overbalanced with Casper's weight and they fell on the bed together with Gerry on top. His long black hair fell around both of them, it clashed beautifully with Casper's white skin and red eyes, and it made Gerry think about the story of snow white.

"I've wanted to hold you for so long, longer then I've even known you I think," Gerard murmured, propping himself on one elbow so he could caress Casper's cheek. God his skin was so soft.

"I believe I have too," Casper whispered, wrapping his arms around Gerard's shoulders.

"I guess your soul is mine now hm?" He asked tilting his head a little.

"I suppose it is," Casper agreed, not even a trace of wariness. God he was activating Gerry's fucking cuteness aggression!

"You can keep it. Having your heart is enough for me," Gerry said, his hand dropping to gently rest on Casper's throat, feeling his pulse pounding under his fingers despite the coolness of his skin.

"Seems like a poor trade off," Casper murmured, pulling Gerry a little closer.

"Then I'll take a kiss too," Gerry breathed. "If you're okay with it."

"Yes, more then okay. I want you too kiss me," Casper said, blushing brightly, his skin showed his blush so beautifully.

"Oh good," Gerry said lamely then kissed Casper passionately before he could make a comment about Gerry being flustered.

The kiss turned into many, Gerry's arms got tired so he lay down next to Casper, pulling the other man against his chest and kissing him again. And again, and again.

The sun set, and they lay together, wrapped up in each other, black and white hair layered together over the pillows.

"When did you start following me?" Gerry asked, playing absently with Casper's hair.

"Five years ago," Casper replied, shifting down to rest his head on Gerry's shoulder.

"After the brain cancer then?" Gerry asked.

"Yes."

"So you know nothing about what I did before that?" Gerry asked, feeling a slight lump to his throat.

"No...?" Casper said questioningly.

"Okay.." Gerry said and trailed off, there was a beat of silence as he tried to think of what he was going to say. "After the cancer I really turned my life around after that. Before that I wasn't exactly a 'normal mortal', I was... a Hunter."

On top of Gerry Casper tensed a little, and when he looked up there was just a touch of wariness, maybe even fear, in his eyes.

"Not of your kind," He assured with a little smile. "Or, well, there were a few things that called themselves Reapers but they were nothing like you. My mother... she fancied herself a witch, she spent her entire life, and my entire childhood teaching me how to harness powers that should have been impossible to touch. That's what my tattoos are for," he said, glaring absently at the eyes decorating his knuckles.

"In the end her power grabs killed her, and I wanted to rip everything like her apart for what she'd done to me, the nightmare she'd made my childhood. I hunted, and I killed," He ran his hand down Casper's arm and laced their fingers together. He allowed it but didn't reciprocate.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you, at first it was because I didn't believe you. You were nothing like the others, and you didn't even mention the Powers I knew of so I thought you were lying. Then... then I truly was lost, I had been so sure there was no good in the world. No powers of life, or hope, or even truly good people. And you dropped all of that right into my lap and I didn't know how to respond.

"I haven't killed since my brain cancer, when my hunting partner abandoned me when I needed her most I realized there was no joy for me in that life. My overseas trips you've followed me on.. have you seen me burn the books?" A slight nod. "Do you know what they were?" A small shake of the head, worry and fear.

"Objects of power for the 14 Fears, the Dread Powers I was taught to harness. I thought they were all there was, but I think I'm realizing it's like trauma. With something so bad possible, it's hard to imagine there being good too. But now I know there is good, and there is love, and I love you. I'm sorry I didn't tell you all this before you came, I didn't know how."

There was a long silence, but Casper didn't pull away so Gerry let him think. "You're not, as you said 'pulling my leg'?" Casper asked softly.

"No, not about this. I can prove it to you if you want. Well, not this second but you can come with me next time I track down one of the books. Or go to help one of the people touched by the fears," he offered quickly.

"I suppose now I know how you first felt, because I know nothing of this. I suppose I didn't spend enough time on earth to know of powers that prey on mortal fears."

"That makes sense. Don't worry though, I've been navigating this since I was born. I know all the tricks, and now understanding better what I can do, and not being alone, I Know we'll be okay. Good even!"

"It still sounds like a big risk," Casper said worriedly.

"Well... Yes, but I can't stop Casper," Gerry said softly.

"Can't, or won't?"

"... Won't. I've felt so much disrepair all my life that there were no Good powers, now that I know in some ways I Am a good power. Casper, I need to help people. Can you understand?"

"Yes, I can understand," Casper sighed relaxing and resting his head on Gerry's chest again. "I will support you, and the travel will help keep the other reapers at a distance since I am on the run.

"I have much more to learn about the world then I ever realized, which is... disconcerting. But you will guide me through it, and I've always enjoyed learning."

"Thank you Casper," It came out in a rush of breath and true gratitude. "Thank you."

"I always though 'love is blind' was a saying for fools, but I was the fool who had never known love," Casper murmured, sitting up and pressing a soft kiss to Gerry's lips. "I believe I would follow you into hell Sunshine."

[affluenzafm]

you know you love me.

Meet LUCAS VALIERI, or if you read the Anti Grapevine, THE TEMPTEST. He is a 27 year old SOCIALITE, that currently resides in UPPER EASTSIDE. He is known around the city for their/her/his PASSIONATE & ARGUMENTIVE demeanor, but they may be hiding something… IF HE HADN'T DISSAPOINTED HIS FAMILY ENOUGH ALREADY, BEING ARRESTED FOR POSSESSION OF ILLICIT SUBSTANCES MIGHT'VE TOPPED IT OFF. ALTHOUGH HIS FAMILY WAS QUICK TO COVER IT UP AND CLEAR HIS NAME, FRAMING SOMEONE ELSE . 

DREW STARKEY, CISMALE, HE/HIM.

The Valieri family was once known for elegance and poise, but nearly single handedly, Lucas derailed that. His mother’s attempt at keeping the family name known via reality TV only gave his antics and chaotic behavior to an audience. The way Lucas sees it, consequences don’t exist for him. Why should they? Any mistake he's made has been solved with a big check and thinly veiled threats. Life has always been a never ending party -- He's never had to work for anything, never had to worry if things would work out. While his classmates were worrying about getting into Ivy Leagues and networking with the right people, he preferred to spend his time at his parent’s member’s only club, drinking top-shelf tequila. Besides, being book smart was never his strong suit; He's always been known for his sharp tongue and short fuse, which has landed him in plenty of situations either his mother or sister have had to bail him out of. He may live without regard for, well, quite literally everything around him -- But even Lucas knows he can't keep this up forever. Eventually, he's going to have to face up to the consequences he's avoided so narrowly, whether he likes it or not.

it's all about who you know.

JANE VAUGHN. younger sister. Lucas and Jane have a complex dynamic, but despite the occasional clashes and lingering feelings of bitterness, there is a deep-seated care and understanding between them. They share a bond forged through shared experiences and childhood memories, and when it comes down to it, they are there for each other, offering support and a sense of familial loyalty that surpasses their past rivalries.

MIA JONES. ex-girlfriend, baby mama. At one point, Lucas thought he and Mia would last forever — She was the Bonnie to his Clyde, only instead of death their relationship ended with an unplanned pregnancy during their senior year of high school. He never wanted kids, nor is he sure how to be a parent. Though it may be cruel, he doesn’t want to learn. As far as he’s concerned, Mia let him off the hook, and he has no obligation.

MARK FITZGERALD. former best friend. Former best friends, once inseparable and loyal to each other like brothers, were bound by their shared history and secrets. But everything shattered when Lucas betrayed Fitz in a desperate attempt to save himself, turning informant and indirectly causing his friend's arrest. Now, with his former ally released and hungry for revenge, their past loyalty has turned into simmering hatred, as both men are pulled into a dangerous game of payback, where trust no longer exists.

this character is taken.

[angstfactory]

At first, the male's head lowered up and down almost without thought and agreement to these words, because of course she would hear this before. Made perfect sense, really, since she was a little asshole... a massive pain in the ass... a butthead... a tit, even. Then, Jesse blinked as it dawned what it was exactly that she just said. "Wait-- who the fuck is callin' you an asshole?" the junkman's weight shifted, so he stood straight and looked present and ready, like there was some call to action. It was only okay for him to call her an asshole. If there was anyone else out there doing it, outside of Avery maybe (which, admittedly, seemed highly unlikely of the soft-spoken man), they needed to learn that it wasn't their place to remind this woman of anything. Jesse had that covered. Pricks.

"Dunno," he took in a breath, hazel eyes scanning about the messy, unorganized junkyard that still had vegetation taking it over in many places, "I ain't doin' too well with the corner I got, so.." This was how he felt, anyway. "If I can fuck up my own life so much, then there's just no hope for me anywhere else. That's the truth." Maybe, if Talia had stuck around, he would have done something more with himself. Gone to school? Figure out some passion he wanted to chase? Shit, possibly settled down with someone? Had kids? Talia and he... they could have gotten through things fine, together. Life could have gone on normally enough, they would have had each other to lean on and help along the way, to get through the hard spots still mostly intact. But that wasn't what happened. She took off, and he derailed-- no idea where her life went, but his had gone down the crapper fast. Ever since then, Jesse felt as if he'd been clawing the sides of the bin, trying to pull himself out. Losing her had been his last straw, he had given up on himself and whatever potential there was, to have anything good or normal.

In a way, it was hard not to feel that there would never be another opportunity to truly pick himself up off the ground and dust off, until she was back. Or, if he at least had some chance to talk to her about what happened. The whole thing... It held him back from moving on.

"Y'know," Jesse sniffed, idly giving a scratch at the bridge of his nose, "I'm not just.. pullin' a Huckleberry here.." It'd been a really long time since school made him read that book, he could hardly remember the whole thing, but he knew she was referencing the fact he wanted to pick up and run away. "I got Talia out there, somewhere, y'know?" the man sighed, hands coming to dig into his pockets as he considered the shorter person. "N' I was never... I didn't come here, to stay.. I was supposed to be passin' through, checkin' around for her... Three months tops, that's how it's always been, 'til now." And obviously, his roots here had been planted for well over a year now. Jesse got mixed up with people he started caring too much about and got too comfortable to leave. It'd been too easy to allow his sister's disappearance to slip to the backburner. "I got too comfortable, I let it all go on too long.. I got to stop fuckin' around or I'll never find out where she went n' I -- need to know, what happened. Why she left." He felt a sudden sting to his eyes, though he held off that urge, to break down about it. Willow's bowl was full enough. "Our mom n' dad.. they just fuckin' tossed us aside, alright? They didn't give two shits what happened to us, Talia had to raise me herself. No one else bothered. N' then one day it was like she got tired of havin' to worry 'bout me too, pick up my slack.. whatever it was.." Probably resented him, is what Jesse suspected. Talia resented that it was her responsibility to mother a younger brother while she was still a child herself.

"If she had just told me," he suddenly said, his voice now stronger and louder, as the anger and hurt harbored there came fresh to the surface, "that she needed me to like, step up n' help more.. I would'a done that, y'know? I would have stopped leanin' so much on her, I would have helped her. It was supposed to be US against the world, I could have done more.. I should have done more." His jaw clenched and his stare dropped to the ground, the disappointment back on himself. "I should have known somethin' was wrong."

~~*~~

"Almost daily," she answered him. He had called her that on more than one occasion, hopefully joking or at least that's how she took it. But other people had as well. Bitch was the one she got the most often which she found ironic since she usually just gave people back the energy they were dishing out. But she very routinely called herself that as well. That angry inner voice that sounded so much like one or both of her parents depending on the day. Sometimes a varying relative. Either way it was never kind and always had a name to call her. That wasn't really what Jesse meant so she just kept her face smooth save for the smirk that she wore constantly.

She chewed on the inside of her cheek as he spoke about children. It was one of her most guarded secrets that she really did want kids. It wouldn't be that hard to not fuck up like her parents did even if it would be the hardest thing she ever did in her life. But that was likely not in the cards for her. People like Willow didn't get happy endings. They got found in a ditch, hardly even investigated, she shouldn't have been out there type of endings. Maybe a spot on some true crime podcast. But the result would be the same as Jesse was claiming. No more terrible parents in the world. Although she happened to believe that he'd make a good father. Eventually. "I guess no one tells you how shitty the world is growing up. You get to learn that on your own. Find your own corner of it and make it as good as possible. All we really can do."

[ourloveisforthelovely]

House of Black (Part 2)

Regulus Black AU 

Request: Regulus and his wife are raising Sirius' daughter after he ends up in Azkaban. Now after his escape Sirius comes to them to thank them and get to know his daughter.

Pairings: Regulus Black x Reader. Former Sirius x Reader 

Link to Part 1 AO3

Rating: T

_________

13 Years Later…

“I can’t believe this is happening.”

Regulus’ voice pulled you from your thoughts. In the silent darkness of the bedroom, you were thankful that he couldn’t see the expression on your face. You had been staring off for sometime and didn't want Regulus to see the worry.

“I know.”

The words leaving your mouth weren’t your own but were instead somehow forced from your lips. You were on autopilot. That was the best thing that you could say.

In the course of one afternoon, the quiet comfortable life that Regulus and yourself had created was wiped away. Everything started with Abigail's letter saying she had met her father. It took all that you had not to panic when you read the words “I met Sirius.”

“Y/n?”

Regulus once again pulled you from your thoughts. You cleared your throat anxiously.

“I’m listening.”

You half whispered. Regulus turned to get a better look at you in the moonlight. He didn’t want to say it but you looked lost and confused. This both worried and angered Regulus. In the past 13 years, you had healed from the place that you were. You weren’t worried about not being a good “mother” to Abby…you became a wonderful mother.

There was also the topic of James and Lily. They had died. Your older brother was dead and Albus Dumbledore, in all his eternal knowledge, decided that you weren’t fit to raise Harry. He determined that fucking Vernon and Petunia Dursley were a better fit.

“It's better to keep him away from everything in our world…until he is ready.”

Regulus had to haul you out of the room screaming at Dumbledore. You were so furious that he didn’t find you to be “worthy” to raise your nephew. It didn’t matter that both Regulus and yourself would be a perfect fit. In Dumbledore’s eyes, you weren’t and you would never forgive him for this.

Luckily, in time, Abigail made friends with Harry in school and you finally were able to form a relationship with your nephew. Regulus was thankful to see you happy. Seeing you smile every time you looked at Harry made all of the years of “pain” slightly more manageable.

You were healing and Regulus was thankful for that. Now, everything was once again derailed by one letter about Sirius finding Abby. Chaos was once again consuming Regulus’ peaceful life and he wasn’t sure how to navigate things now.

“You are lost in your head. Darling, since Sirius broke out of Azkaban we expected him to find us…to find Abby.”

Regulus reached out to cup your cheek. You snuggled into your husband’s hand enjoying the moment of comfort. Even in your darkest moments, feeling Regulus’ skin on yours was enough to provide you some relief.

“I know that, Reg. It's not only that… it's everything. It's everything that life has dealt us. This war. James and Lily turning their back on me. Them dying. Us not being able to have Harry. Sirius getting locked up…now this war again.”

You were quiet for a moment before sitting up and drawing your knees to your chest.

“Now the life that we have made is being destroyed. Sirius is free and you know that he will want to be involved with Abby. Granted, she is technically his daughter but we have raised her…I probably sounds super selfish.”

Regulus was silent a moment before sitting up and kissing your bare shoulder.

“Whether she’s technically his daughter or not, she is our daughter.”

You turned and climbed onto Regulus’ lap and snuggled your face into his shoulder. Regulus’ words made you feel somewhat better. Abby would always be your daughter whether or not she was Sirius’. One meeting couldn’t erase 13 years of love and care that you had created.

���Yes, she is.”

Regulus kissed your head once more before leaning his head back against the wall. While the silence once again consumed the room, Regulus thought back on the past 13 years. The two of you had put so much love and care into raising Abby. His mind was consumed by memories of her first steps, her first words…everything that a father should remember.

…A father….

Regulus sighed at the thought of that word. It was the one word that Abby never said. From the time that Regulus had taken Abby in he had always been 100% honest with her. The two of you decided that while raising her as “your” child it would be best to let her know where she actually came from. She deserved that.

Abby always seemed to be at peace with the information that she was given…until she learned what Sirius was locked up for. Regulus closed his eyes as he thought about that conversation.

“Do you think that he actually did it…killed that man and those muggles?”

Abby asked the night news of Sirius’ escape was announced. Regulus looked up from the book that he had been reading. Looking at his niece, made Regulus' heartache. While she looked like Sirius, she acted more like Regulus. She normally didn’t ask questions that would result in some kind of emotional response. Abby dealt with things with the same quiet sarcastic edge that Regulus did.

Regulus closed his book and scooted to the edge of his chair while you looked.

“No, I really don’t Your father is a lot of things but a cold-blooded killer who would rat out his friends isn’t one of them. Do you want to talk about what you’re feeling?”

Abby shook her head and moved to look out the window.

Regulus pulled himself from his thoughts and looked down at your face. You had fallen asleep on his shoulder. He sighed before gently moving to scoot back into bed further.

The next day things would change once more. The Order was getting back together and this time Regulus was in. This time Regulus wouldn’t be on the side that he never should have been in on in the first place. You were the reason for that. Regulus did not want to disappoint the one woman that meant the world to him.

There was also the fact Regulus would meet his brother face-to-face for the first time in 13 years. Regulus would have to face Sirius and see how his elder brother’s presence would “change” things. Would Sirius come in and expect that he would take over raising Abby?

He wasn’t about to step back and let Sirius take over everything that he worked so hard for. Regulus had spent 13 years creating a “perfect little family” with you and nothing would change that. He would be a dead man before that happened.

Regulus also thought about you. Part of Regulus always worried that you still loved Sirius. He was, after all, your first boyfriend. That was the first love that was always supposed to be special, right? Regulus couldn't answer that question as you were his first love. It didn’t matter how much you reassured him that he was your favorite and he was the one that you loved…Regulus was still worried. While he was arrogant and vain in many ways, when it came to you…things were different. Part of Regulus was the shy quiet boy that was convinced that no one would actually love him.

I’m being dramatic. Y/n loves me.

Regulus repeated this in his head multiple times hoping that he would 100% believe it.

She never would have married you and left her family if she didn’t love you.

That comment felt like common sense. If you didn’t love Regulus, you would have never let your family just “throw you out” the way they did.

Thinking of James and Lily’s out-of-character abandonment of you still made Regulus’ blood boil. If James was any kind of brother, he would have sucked up his dislike of Regulus and the Black family to make you happy.

“It's going to be alright, Reggie.”

Your voice pulled Regulus from his thoughts. He gave you a smile before tilting your face to his for a kiss.

“You’re always my favorite.”

Regulus whispered. You gave him a gentle smile before reaching up to twist his curls around your finger.

“You’re my favorite too.”

You said before drifting off to sleep. Regulus relaxed into your touch. Anytime that you got your hand on his hair, Regulus turned into putty. You always knew how to relax him. His rather negative thoughts seemed to vanish as your thigh moved up over his hip.

Everything will work out somehow.

______

@amelie-black @justfinishthis @jessyballet @knreidy1 @georgeweasleydumbhoe @fific7 @acciosiriusblack @siriuslyceleste @rogue-nyx88 @millies0bsimp @readtomeregulus @valvlry @daddyslittlevillain @panpride @f4iryluvy @regulusblackswhorecrux @missgorldafirst @saramaple @i-love-scott-mccall @taylor-will-be-the-death-of-me @s-we-e-t-t-ea @buttercup-beeee @padf00ts-l0ver @goldensunshineshit @haroldpotterson @aurorasnape12 @eclipsejune @mentally-unstable-hoe @gugggu6gvai @jag9000 @yousmellikecaca @quinis @lostarc24 @un-lovesherself @play-morezeppelin @ravenhood2792 @dummybinch @bennyberry @rubyroscoe1 @whymyparentscheckmyphone @criminalyetminimal @mimisparkle12 @teletubiswszpilkach @lucasfilms77 @moonythemilf @spideyxalmighty @brokencasbutt67-writer @brokencasbutt67-writer @authoressskr @moldy-old-boot @hankypranky @summer-novak @emiwrites3reads @shaylybaby2032 @deanwherescas @shitfaceddaniel-blog @untoldshortsofthefandoms @knight-of-gleefulness @wontlookaway @li0nh34rt @tas898 @mycuddlycorner @sprnaturallover

[undiscovered-horizon]

"Moving houses" - Yandere!Billy Russo x Reader

[TW: obsessive behavior/yandere trope + an allusion to sexual assault]

SUMMARY: [continuation to 'There's something in the shadows'] Sometime after Diane breaks things off with you, and you think your life is back on track, another calamity decides to happen. When your landlord suddenly decides to raise your rent way above what you can afford, Billy Russo is more than ready to help. His plan might just be infallible.

[Continuation: 'The art of deception']

Author's note: The people have spoken. This is long overdue.

Taglist: @tnrthings

"You alright there, princess?" He noticed how absentminded you have been throughout lunch, mixing your poke bowl with disinterest. Even the avocado slices were left untouched when he knew it was the first thing you ate out of the dish. Billy had asked you to lunch so many times it quickly became a habit that the two of you met every day, same hour and same place.

"I'll have to move out," you murmured while stabbing the innocent rice dish with your spoon. "My landlord raised the rent and now I can't afford my condo. I have barely two weeks to find a new place."

Billy was a reasonably good actor for a former soldier, something he probably picked up being a businessman, and so it was quite easy for him to restrain the excited smile that was begging to come out, to express his joy at the turn of events - everything was going his way.

How much a simple phone call can do!

"So what you gon' do?" he asked in a worried tone (really, where did he learn such convincing acting?). Billy knew very well what you were going to do, sooner or later. Failure was not an option, not to him.

"I dunno," you stirred your lunch with disinterest. "A few weeks ago I would have immediately called Diane, you know? Damn, I would even be happy for a prolonged sleepover with her." You sighed heavily. Billy tightened his grip on the fork he was holding, suddenly worried that the conversation was starting to derail from what he planned. "Now that I'm telling you this, I remembered that I run to Ashton yesterday. He started to ask whether Diane and I were good? Apparently, she had been acting weird with everyone before, you know...Don't take it personally, Billy, because I really like you, a lot actually but I can't help feeling like everything is so much harder without Diane. I miss that girl."

Annoyed, Billy made a mental remark to make sure Ashton takes a longer leave from work or his mother needs emergency medical attention. That guy was definitely running his mouth a little too much. Along with those thoughts came a wave of red anger at your statement: you missed Diane? That wench that stood between him and you? That would surely dissuade you from engaging in this relationship? Or, perhaps, you simply weren't seeing it yet, your judgment maybe was still clouded by the affection you used to have towards Diane.

Yes, Billy thought to himself, she will see it soon enough. It was necessary.

"Maybe I could couch surf?" You were thinking out loud. "I probably don't even know that many people."

You really were trying his patience, although unknowingly. Couch surfing? He would never let you sleep on someone's couch, no matter how well you claimed to know its owner. Billy knew human nature pretty well and that made him sure that there was simply no one on God's green Earth he would trust with your safety. Those people on whose couches you would sleep, how could he be sure they had good intentions towards you? No, it was a dangerous gamble and if it was you the gamble was about, he wasn't taking any.

"You can stay at mine," he said in the most neutral tone he could muster, which was quite difficult: the sole thought of having you sleep at his apartment was making him beyond ecstatic.

"I can't do that Billy, you already do so much for me," you vaguely shook your head as you spoke, which he found charming. "I just don't have the heart to abuse your kindness."

"I want to help you out, sweetheart," he answered.

For a moment you fell silent, thinking about his offer. Billy's eyes were stuck to you, watching your face for any indication of your decision. He had spent plenty of time playing out all possible scenarios of this conversation and preparing for each outcome. Feeling sure of himself and his subjectively infallible plan, Billy was relaxed - whatever conclusion you should come to, he knew how to make you move in anyway.

"I promise to move out as soon as I sign a lease."

No, you won't. You won't even get to that stage.

"You really are a successful businessman," you said slowly as you looked around Billy's apartment. It was worthy of being on the cover of some interior design magazine. "Maybe I won't move out," you joked, which earned a soft chuckle from him. How blissful ignorance can be.

Little did you know, that's exactly what's going to happen.

"Take the bedroom, I can sleep on the couch," he offered.

"No, Billy, this is your house! I'm not kicking you out of your bed."

"And you're my guest. I'll be fine."

"Can I at least help with the chores? I don't want to feel like I'm leeching off of you."

Although his initial plan did not involve letting you do housework, your sudden request made Billy imagine you making dinner while he comes home from work, which in turn made him question the integrity of the said former plan. The pet name "princess" that he had given you wasn't just a show of affection but rather what his obsession made him treat you like and that meant that, by default, you weren't supposed to be involved in any type of work. But the sudden conjuration of the domestic picture made Billy change his mind almost immediately.

"Alright," he said as his imagination, unattended, began conjuring new images of a homely life with you. It's not like he hasn't thought of those moments before, no, they were on his mind daily but now that you were standing in his living room, slightly embarrassed, his domestic fantasies became more real than ever.

You falling asleep on him while watching a movie; you wearing only his t-shirt around the house; him bringing you coffee in the morning, while you're barely awake...the possibilities were endless.

Evening came and Billy was reading a memoir of some secret military platoon during World War 2. Your footsteps on the hardwood floor surprised him as he thought you were already asleep. He looked up from his book as he felt the couch dip under your weight. You were wearing just a sweatshirt and leggings ending above your knees. Billy inhaled sharply, momentarily having to fight a primal urge to just take you. He was bigger, stronger than you, he could easily do it.

"Sorry for interrupting," you began in a sheepish voice. You placed a glass of whiskey he hasn't noticed before right in front of him. "But I really wanted to thank you before calling it a day. It means a lot to me that you're letting me stay, although you are a bit throwing me for a loop when you're already doing so much for me and want nothing in return...I don't know if I can ever pay you back, Billy."

"I don't want you to," he answered in a low voice. "I'm just glad I can help you out, princess."

You looked away for a moment, still feeling embarrassed about the entire situation. Billy's eyes remained glued to you, devouring the image of you being in his house, wearing pajamas and looking, to some degree, comfortable. Homely.

"Right, I should be going to sleep," you said quietly as you got up from the couch. "Gotta get me out of your hair first thing in the morning, right?"

Billy didn't answer. Instead, he smiled to himself, knowing that you're not getting out of his hair anytime soon, if ever. Now he just had to devise a plan to share his bed with you. Maybe he'll 'get drunk and accidentally fall asleep on the bed' one night?

[bookaddict24-7]

6 YA Books By Black Authors About Social Justice

___

1. The Black Kids by Christina Hammonds Reed

“Ashley Bennett and her friends are living the charmed life. It’s the end of senior year and they’re spending more time at the beach than in the classroom. They can already feel the sunny days and endless possibilities of summer. Everything changes one afternoon in April, when four LAPD officers are acquitted after beating a black man named Rodney King half to death. Suddenly, Ashley’s not just one of the girls. She’s one of the black kids. As violent protests engulf LA and the city burns, Ashley tries to continue on as if life were normal. Even as her self-destructive sister gets dangerously involved in the riots. Even as the model black family façade her wealthy and prominent parents have built starts to crumble. Even as her best friends help spread a rumor that could completely derail the future of her classmate and fellow black kid, LaShawn Johnson. With her world splintering around her, Ashley, along with the rest of LA, is left to question who is the us? And who is the them?”

___

2. One of the Good Ones by Maika Moulite & Maritza Moulite

“ISN'T BEING HUMAN ENOUGH? When teen social activist and history buff Kezi Smith is killed under mysterious circumstances after attending a social justice rally, her devastated sister Happi and their family are left reeling in the aftermath. As Kezi becomes another immortalized victim in the fight against police brutality, Happi begins to question the idealized way her sister is remembered. Perfect. Angelic. One of the good ones. Even as the phrase rings wrong in her mind—why are only certain people deemed worthy to be missed?—Happi and her sister Genny embark on a journey to honor Kezi in their own way, using an heirloom copy of The Negro Motorist Green Book as their guide. But there's a twist to Kezi's story that no one could've ever expected—one that will change everything all over again.”

___

3. Kneel by Candace Buford

“The system is rigged. For guys like Russell Boudreaux, football is the only way out of their small town. As the team’s varsity tight end, Rus has a singular goal: to get a scholarship and play on the national stage. But when his best friend is unfairly arrested and kicked off the team, Rus faces an impossible choice: speak up or live in fear. “Please rise for the national anthem.” Desperate for change, Rus kneels during the national anthem. In one instant, he falls from local stardom and becomes a target for hatred. But he’s not alone. With the help of his best friend and an unlikely ally, Rus will fight for his dreams, and for justice.”

___

4. Dear Martin by Nic Stone

Justyce McAllister is top of his class and set for the Ivy League—but none of that matters to the police officer who just put him in handcuffs. And despite leaving his rough neighborhood behind, he can't escape the scorn of his former peers or the ridicule of his new classmates. Justyce looks to the teachings of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. for answers. But do they hold up anymore? He starts a journal to Dr. King to find out. Then comes the day Justyce goes driving with his best friend, Manny, windows rolled down, music turned up—way up, sparking the fury of a white off-duty cop beside them. Words fly. Shots are fired. Justyce and Manny are caught in the crosshairs. In the media fallout, it's Justyce who is under attack.

___

5. Monday’s Not Coming by Tiffany D. Jackson

Monday Charles is missing, and only Claudia seems to notice. Claudia and Monday have always been inseparable—more sisters than friends. So when Monday doesn’t turn up for the first day of school, Claudia’s worried. When she doesn’t show for the second day, or second week, Claudia knows that something is wrong. Monday wouldn’t just leave her to endure tests and bullies alone. Not after last year’s rumors and not with her grades on the line. Now Claudia needs her best—and only—friend more than ever. But Monday’s mother refuses to give Claudia a straight answer, and Monday’s sister April is even less help. As Claudia digs deeper into her friend’s disappearance, she discovers that no one seems to remember the last time they saw Monday. How can a teenage girl just vanish without anyone noticing that she’s gone?

___

6. I’m Not Dying with You Tonight by Gilly Segal

An NAACP Image Award Nominee, I’m Not Dying with You Tonight follows two teen girls—one black, one white—who have to confront their own assumptions about racial inequality as they rely on each other to get through the violent race riot that has set their city on fire with civil unrest.

Lena has her killer style, her awesome boyfriend, and a plan. She knows she’s going to make it big. Campbell, on the other hand, is just trying to keep her head down and get through the year at her new school.

When both girls attend the Friday-night football game, what neither expects is for everything to descend into sudden mass chaos. Chaos born from violence and hate. Chaos that unexpectedly throws them together.

They aren’t friends. They hardly understand the other’s point of view. But none of that matters when the city is up in flames, and they only have each other to rely on if they’re going to survive the night.

___

Have you read any of these? Would you recommend them?

___

Happy reading!

[nxrthmizu]

Crash and Burn

fandom | miraculous ladybug

genre | salt, lila salt

pairing | n/a

w.c | 3.2k

author's note | hey remember that lila salt fic i promised? this isn't it but this is something i made today so yep. please accept this as an apology for yknow. me promising to write and. not doing it.

Enough was enough.

“Marinette, stop accusing Lila! She just wants to make friends!”

“Take the high road.”

“Be a good model student, Marinette.”

Enough. Was. Enough.

Marinette had the connections, the power, the choice to make Lila’s entire world crumble apart. The only thing that stood between the liar’s demise was the tiniest pinch of morality and self-restraint— And no, that self-restraint did not come in the form of Tikki. Even the kwami, who had to be an aggregation of all the good and nice things in the world, was fed up and ready to retaliate.

“What a joke.” Lila cackled, tossing a chunk of her sausage hair over her shoulder flamboyantly. The two girls were in the bathroom, with Lila smirking in front of the sink and Marinette a little distance away from her. “You can make my world crumble? What is this, a threat?”

“A promise.” Marinette corrected. “Stop telling lies. Come clean to every one. No more lying about knowing celebrities left and right, no more making excuses about not being able to take your own notes, no more making up ‘diseases’ just so your life gets a little more convenient. To be frank, I really don’t care what happens to you— But by making these empty promises to introduce my classmates to great ‘celebrities’, you’re ruining their futures. Stop.”

“And what are you going to do if I don’t?” Lila sneered, face twisted into an ugly grin. “You going to cry in front of the class? Try and convince them that I, the one they adore— That I am lying?”

“No.” Marinette’s eyes were clear when she met Lila’s. The clouds of self-doubt that used to hover over the bright, shining star inside her soul had now dissipated, letting the bluenette emit a confident, glowing appearance as she met the liar head on. “I’m just going to keep my promise.”

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

Lila headed off to a modelling shoot after school, pleased at the prospect of spending more time with Adrien. There were a couple tendrils of Marinette’s words hanging behind in her mind— Did the girl mean what she said? Did she actually… Was she actually capable of causing Lila’s downfall? … Surely not. Marinette may have once been the ‘Everyday Ladybug’, but there was no way she was that competent, there was no way the girl was capable of plotting.

The Italian hummed, brushing away thoughts of the annoying bluenette from her mind. She was going on a photoshoot— One that was going cause the rise and burst of her career, the one that was going to make her name a globally-known one. Unfortunately for Lila, her plans were going to be derailed quite soon— In fact, as soon as Gabriel Agreste’s car rolled into the parking lot of the shoot location.

“Explain this, Mlle. Rossi.” Gabriel’s nostrils flared as he pointed to the tabloid article on his tablet. The Italian girl froze, the headlines seared into her eyes, big and black and bold, shooting poison right into the core of her body, paralysing her cell by cell starting from her heart. “What is the meaning of this?”

‘Adrien Agreste Reported To Be Harassed by Fellow Model’— The image under the caption was one that was clearly taken by a hidden photographer. The picture was framed with leafy foliage, which suggested that the camera was tucked up in a tree. Despite the distance, it was quite obvious in the image that Adrien was reeling away, disgusted and uncomfortable as a faceless woman in an orange blazer, back turned to the camera— Invaded his personal space.

The subtitle was the cream on the cupcake.

‘Witnesses State Gabriel Agreste Ignorant of Workplace Harassment’.

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

As if things couldn’t quite go down a worser path, Lila returned home to a fuming mother and an unexpected visitor.

“Lila! You come here right this instant!” The diplomat demanded as soon as the front door opened, her daughter shrinking slightly at the tone and pitch that her mother was using. The last time her mother had been this angry— Well, it was when she got expelled from her last school. “I can’t believe what you’ve done! If it weren’t for your kind classmate, lord knows how long you would’ve continued with this!”

The Italian meekly followed her mother into the living room, eyes widening until they were as large as saucers, mouth agape at the last person she expected to see sitting on the couch.

Marinette smiled kindly, waving at the girl, looking every bit the part of the innocent, pure, kind child that every parent wanted to have. Before Lila could release a torrent of questions about what the hell Marinette Dupain-Cheng was doing in her living room, her mother charged on, beginning to take out her anger on her daughter while a literal angel sat on the sofa, cradling a box of pastries from her family’s bakery.

“Your friend here tells me that you’ve been taking absences from school to go on trips to help humanity!” Mme. Rossi exploded, waving her arms around madly. “She says she’s here to share her notes from the classes you’ve missed! You’ve never left Paris this year! What’s this I hear about flying off to the kingdom of— What was it called again, Marinette dear?”

“Achu.” Provided the bluenette helpfully, the diplomat’s expression instantly softening when she talked to the other teen in the living room.

“Ah, yes. Thank you, dear.” The woman turned back to her daughter, instantly snapping on a mask of anger in a matter of a fraction of a second. “What’s this about flying off to this kingdom of Achu to help homeless orphans with some random prince?”

“Um…” Lila piped up, wriggling as her brain churned at 200 lies per hour, trying to whip up a cover of some sort.

“I’m not done! Your friend here is such a helpful child that she even went as far as to ask her family doctor is there’s a cure for your… Lying disease!” Mme. Rossi practically roared, breathing flames as if she were an intimidating dragon, her daughter flinching away from the heat. “I’ve never heard of anything more ridiculous! And then there’s the fact that you lied to your classmates about having tinnitus?!”

“I actually do have tinnitus!” Lila cut in forcibly, widening her eyes to make herself look more pitiful. “I was just afraid to tell you because I didn’t want you to worry!”

“Bullshit!”

“Um… Sorry to interrupt, Mme. Rossi,” Marinette piped up, the diplomat instantly cooling down as she faced the bluenette, a soft smile tracing the Italian woman’s lips. “But it’s getting rather late and my parents would love me home soon. I also have some tests to revise for tonight, so I think I should get going.”

“Oh, of course, dear.” Mme. Rossi hastily got up to help the bluenette to the door, shooting a warning glare at her daughter— ‘Sit still and don’t you dare go anywhere’, the glare read. “Feel free to come over again anytime you want, dear. I’m not home often, but you are such a sweet child. I’m sure Lila could learn a lot from you.”

“Thanks for having me as well, Mme. Rossi. I really like your home. I left the pastries on the counter— Make sure to warm the curry puffs before you eat them.” Marinette returned the smile, bowing slightly to the older woman as a sign of respect.

“Thank you for the pastries as well, Marinette. I ought to visit your parents’ bakery sometime when I’m free.” Mme. Rossi opened the door kindly for the bluenette, waving the girl off with an affectionate smile. Her parents must be so lucky to have such a sweet little thing like her, Mme. Rossi sighed internally, turning the key so she locked the door. And she seems to be a high-scoring student as well.

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

Lila seethed, having been grounded by her mother. As far as Mme. Rossi was concerned, there was a boarding school not too far away from their current residence, and by the next week, the Italian girl would be transferred over. Lila had never hated Dupain-Cheng as much as she did in that moment.

Still furious, the Italian snapped her laptop open, too angry to bother with the fact she might’ve scratched the surface. Clicking into the web browser, she started to type in the words ‘Ladyblog’— That was, before a news article caught her eye.

‘Jagged Stone Interview Reveals Underage, Obsessed Fan’.

What on Earth…

As soon as Lila clicked into the link, the news footage from the interview immediately begin to play. The date stamp on it showed that it had aired last night— Which meant that she would’ve missed it, since her mother was too busy yelling at her to turn on the television to watch Nadja Chamack’s daily news.

“As soon as I heard this rumour about some underage teenage girl claiming that she had saved my cat on an airport runway, I called Penny and asked her to book a slot for me to clarify this,” Jagged Stone said grimly, dressed in more formal attire as he sat in the comfortable, cushioned chair of the news station, with Nadja nodding equally seriously beside him. “Let me clarify— I’ve never owned a cat. I’m allergic to fur. The only pet I’ve had was Fang, and he’s an al-li-ga-tor. Not a cat. Whatever the girl is claiming, she’s obsessed and making up stories.”

“It’s also kind of bewildering that she saved it on an airport runway,” Nadja continued, shaking her head in disappointment. “That kind of thing only happens in dramas— It’s too dangerous for anyone besides authorised workers to be on airport runways.”

“Right, right!” Jagged agreed instantly. “The whole rumour is just really baffling.”

“M. Jagged, may I ask what kind of effect these rumours have on a celebrities’ career?” Nadja continued, leading the conversation on like a professional.

“Well, rumours that circulate around tend to have really bad effects, and the worse ones can hang around for a long, long time. Tabloids are often spun off from rumours, baseless and with no evidence. Those tabloids will never truly disappear, so they can leave a mark on a celebrity’s reputation as some people will believe anything— Even things they read from un-cited tabloids.”

“That is simply terrible. Have you ever had any cases of rumours created by underaged teens before this?”

“I’ve had quite a number, but none of them really got as big as this one. From what Penny has found from digging around, the teen girl managed to spread the rumour through her school and onto a once-popular blog.” Jagged explained. “Penny has also found out that the same girl has claimed that I’ve written songs for her to thank her for saving my cat! I would never write songs and dedicate them to an underaged girl— Trust me. If I could do such a thing, I’d already have written a dozen in honour of my niece— She’s my favourite designer.”

Nadja smiled at that sentence. “Then—“

The news footage cut off abruptly as Lila slammed her laptop shut, too upset to continue watching.

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

On the other side of Paris, Alya was pacing around her room frantically, wondering why on earth Lila wasn’t picking up on her calls. She’d left at least four dozen messages to the Italian, who was absent from school that day. There had been a couple whispers here and there about why she was missing— Rose had suggested another impromptu trip to Achu.

Lila’s absence wasn’t the weirdest part of the day, however.

That award would go to Marinette, who walked into class with a smile, the slightest sprinkles of delight colouring her bluebell eyes when she spotted Lila’s empty seat.

Growing in frustration, Alya threw herself onto her bed, phone clattering onto the mattress with her. Within the next few minutes, however, her phone suddenly started exploding with notifications. Excited at the prospect of Lila finally texting back, Alya turned on her phone, only to be disappointed by the notifications all clamouring from the class group chat.

Kim had sent a link to the chat— Without hesitation, Alya clicked into it, frowning when she saw Nadja and Jagged appear on the screen. Throughout the interview, the colour on the Ladyblogger’s face only paled by the second until she was as white as a sheet, and if it were halloween at that time, she would’ve won the best costume award for being a ghost.

There must… There must’ve been a mistake.

A notification from Lila’s number made the blogger perk up, instantly clicking into the conversation— But her newfound hope didn’t last very long.

[Lila]

Hi, Alya. This is Lila’s mom. She’s currently grounded right now. Is there anything important you need to tell her?

[Alya]

Oh, nothing much… I just wanted to ask where she was.

[Lila]

She’s at home.

[Alya]

Okay, thanks.

Flopping onto her bed, Alya begin thinking, revising over the past few months like it was an old clip. Lila’s exciting adventures and interactions with celebrities of every kind— Lila going overseas and face timing the entire class— Lila letting her in on the secrets of being Ladybug’s friend…

… Marinette trying to tell them that Lila was lying…

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

The class was awfully silent the next day. Adrien was absent as well— A social worker was looking into his home life as a result of the tabloid that arose. Things for the blonde could either get better or worse from then on, as the matters were still foggy and things hadn’t cleared up yet. The blonde maintained contact with his friends, however, calling and texting them whenever he could.

“Class, settle down.” Mlle. Bustier stepped into the class, looking very tense and uncomfortable. “Today, we will have a guest, so please be on your best behaviours, alright?”

Just as the teacher finished speaking, a tall, regal-looking Italian woman entered the classroom, a cowering principal and a meek-looking Lila in tow. The class brightened slightly at the sight of their friend�� But by the way she wasn’t looking into their eyes… Things weren’t going to be good.

“Good morning. I am Mme. Rossi, Lila’s mother.” The woman begin speaking, her firm and no-nonsense tone instantly making every student sit straight, their eyes too afraid to look anywhere else but the Italian diplomat. “It has come to my attention that my daughter has been taking absences from school to do charity work— And I have to clarify that this is a lie. Lila has been doing nothing but holing herself up in her room, lying to me and saying that there are no classes due to akumas.” The Italian diplomat glowered at Damocles. “What’s even more baffling is the fact that neither her homeroom nor the principal bothered to check up with me despite a student having extended periods of absence with no note or email written whatsoever.”

The class was so quiet that they could hear the quiver of Mlle. Bustier’s trembling lip.

“In addition, I’ve been kindly told that Lila has claimed to have a lying disease, which is the most ridiculous thing I’ve heard this week.” It was impossible to miss the way the Italian diplomat was glaring daggers at both Mlle. Bustier and Damocles. “No one bothered to look it up online to see if it’s actual disorder, nor did anyone call me to confirm and ask for a doctor’s note, which is standard procedure.” Chills burst over the room, making every one shiver as the woman hissed out her words.

“Mme. Rossi, we didn’t want to disturb your busy schedule—” Damocles begin, only to be blown backwards from the sheer intensity of Mme. Rossi’s glower.

“M. Damocles, standard procedures exist for a reason. Unless you’d like to tell me about any other things you’ve been letting my daughter get away with?”

“N— No, Mme.”

The Italian diplomat continued on her war path. “My daughter also claimed to have tinnitus, am I correct?”

“Y— Yes, Mme.” Mlle. Bustier answered when it seemed like no one was going to.

“And I heard that the class seating arrangement was shifted to accommodate for that?” The homeroom teacher didn’t dare answer this time, for it seemed like whatever she said would be the incorrect answer. “And apparently, my daughter has also been faking broken wrists and requesting for her classmates to complete her work for her.” Mme. Rossi was practically breathing flames at that point, “And I am incredibly upset at the lack of action from the homeroom teacher.”

No one could breath.

“I have many concerns about the running of this schooling facility, and I expect to discuss this with M. Damocles privately after this. However, there is still something to be done.” Mme. Rossi swept her gaze towards her daughter, who found the floor incredibly interesting at that point of time. “Lila? Something you’d like to say to your classmates?”

“… I’m sorry for lying to you.” Lila mumbled resentfully.

“Louder, Lila. No one can hear you.”

“I’m sorry for lying to you!” Lila swallowed, bursting like an explosion that had finally been triggered, tears in her eyes and fists hatefully curled. “I’m sorry for lying about my diseases and injuries. I’m sorry for making you do my work,” She spat. “Sorry for causing any inconveniences.”

Mme. Rossi raised an eyebrow at her daughter. “Is that all?”

Lila glared at her mother, who was completely unfazed. “Oh, so you want an apology from me? Fine!” She turned to the class, a maniacal glint in her eyes as she sneered at the class, a few gasps puffing from around the room as they caught their first glimpse of the liar that resided in the ‘harmless’ shell of Lila Rossi. “I’m sorry that you are all such idiots that you all fell for everything. I’m sorry that Marinette has such terrible, untrusting classmates that turned their backs on her even though she was still a goody-two shoes till the end, even though she still wanted to help you sorry peasants. I’m sorry that you were all so goddamn gullible! There! Good enough for you?”

Shock was etched into the faces of every human in the classroom— Including Mlle. Bustier, M. Damocles, and Mme. Rossi themselves. Clearly, that part of the apology had not been part of the plan.

“Did I miss something?” Said a sweet voice, followed by the presence of a bluenette, her hair tied in a half-up. A royal blue blazer decorated her lithe form, accompanied by a smart-looking white blouse and a black plaited skirt. Formal had never looked so good on anyone— And if someone didn't know better, they'd think that the bluenette was a young lawyer, emerging victorious from her first successful case.

“Marinette!” Alya exclaimed.

“I’m sorry that you’re such an annoying, little, pest.” Lila bit in the girl’s face, disdain colouring her features as she ignored her mother’s enraged gasp behind her.

The bluenette simply smiled, unaffected by the liar who had crashed and burned like the liar once wished upon her. Marinette Dupain-Cheng stood at her full height, the perfect image of grace and poise as she maintained her composure, quite unlike her nemesis, who thrashed under her mother’s restraining hands.

“And I’m sorry that you didn’t take my promise to heart.”

this can count as adrien redemption depending on you cause ehhh i dont like how passive he is but i havent caught up with the recent episodes, he might have become better. idk.

also where the hell is my miraculous taglist i cant find it so eep. no tagging ppl ig oops

[youarejesting]

Hope in the sheets.10

[Masterlist]

Beta: N/A Pairing: Hoseok x Reader Genre: Friendship, Comedy, Soft boy, Fluff, SMUT, Friends2Lovers, Words: 5k

Summary: You held many titles: his neighbor, colleague, wing-man… well, more likely a wing-woman, yet most importantly, you were his best friend. You had been friends since you were born. Between the two of you, you were younger; barely, but he never let you forget it. He always seemed to ruffle your hair and tease you, which could get rather annoying but he made up for it by treating you to things.

What if a drunken one night stand between you and your best friend Hoseok leads to more complicated situations? Your reckless twenties are cut short as you find yourself suddenly responsible for something a little more.

Warning: Implied sex, pregnancy, implied reader has baby.

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Hoseok and the others were eventually led into the birthing suite; the entire place had been cleaned and only the bare minimum of staff stayed behind. They were sorting out equipment and monitoring your current state. When his eyes landed on yours he felt emotions bloom in his chest. There you were laying in the bed, a small bundle of soft blankets nestled delicately in your arms. You had showered and dressed in a nightdress that had been packed in your hospital bag. 

Hoseok’s lip curled. He was trying to hold his expression, giving you a forced smile before he broke out into tears. Holding your free arm out to him, he stumbled into your embrace kissing your forehead and telling you how much he loved you. 

His words were broken by the force of each sob. “Are you going to hold her, or do we have to hold you?” Yoongi playfully teased. Hoseok wiped his eyes taking a few shakey deep breaths trying to calm his emotions. 

When you moved the blanket to show your daughter laying gently against your chest, he was a mess once more. “Hobi, you want to hold her?”

“I can hold her?” He hadn’t even thought that far ahead. He could hold this baby, his daughter, he could hold her in his arms and she was real. 

“Of course you can hold her.” You laughed, reaching up to wipe his tears away. Hoseok remembered everything he was taught from the birthing classes, practically reciting them out loud. You placed his daughter in his arms and his bottom lip fell. 

Tears were his automatic response. There was nothing else, this miracle, this symbol of his love for you, his best and longest friend. This was his child, his flesh and blood and he couldn’t thank you enough for giving him such a gift. 

“You have to stop crying Hobi, we need a nice picture for your family.” You smiled and he tilted his head back sniffing. 

“I love you so much, and I love her, I just can’t stop crying.” The words broke again Hoseok turned to show off his daughter to his friends. They were some of the people he was closest to and when he looked at them they were all crying. Jungkook’s wet cheeks and red nose, Jimin’s sweet puffy eyes bubbling with tears, even Yoongi let out a stray sniff. 

By far it was a sight to see big burly Namjoon openly weeping like Hoseok and cooing over how precious she was. 

“Look how little she is,” Namjoon whimpered

“Her hands are so tiny too,” Hoseok said back. The two were just making it worse for each other, a back and forth of doting comments of your newborn each statement causing a fresh cycle of tears. 

The nurse who had been checking your vitals waiting to take you back to the ward rolled her eyes. “I have seen some sappy fathers but you brought a whole troop.”

“Gentleman it’s time to let mum and her baby get some sleep, the father can come back tomorrow morning any other guests can come two at a time during visiting hours.” She ushered the other six males from the room, Hoseok kissed you his cheeks were wet. 

“I don’t want to go.”

“Get some sleep Hobi, get the house ready. If all goes well I will be out of the hospital soon.” The nurse took your daughter from Hoseok’s arms. 

“Wait, can I give her a kiss?” You whispered. The nurse nodded bringing your daughter over allowing you to kiss her goodnight before she was wheeled down to the nursery. 

“Are you ready to go back to the ward? You should get some sleep. Your body will be exhausted. We will bring the child in when she is hungry.”

“Okay Hobi, I have to go rest now you head home and make the house all ready for when we come home okay.” You waved goodbye to him and watched as Jimin took his hand leading him from the room. He seemed reluctant to take his eyes off of you, his hand coming to lay flat under his heart. 

You touched your collar bone watching him mouth the words 'baseline'. It was like everything you ever wanted but such a weird and obscure way you got there. You wanted to be with Hoseok and cherish him and be loved in return, but you never thought you would get there by completely derailing your relationship and almost ruining your life. 

It was like you had to destroy what you had to build something better. It seems counterproductive and a step in the wrong direction but somehow you were able to shape the rubble of your friendship into a relationship stronger than before. 

You love Hoseok with all your heart and he only has eyes for you. It seems you were both delusional to believe that you weren’t in love. Everyone could see it except the two of you and now it was painfully obvious. 

Being a mother was kind of a shock. Scared when you woke up to cramps, only to remember you had already given birth, you were also woken throughout the night to feed your daughter. A part of you worried about taking care of someone, the responsibility setting in as being a mother was a full-time job.

“You are doing wonderful.” The nurse gave you some pain killers for your cramps, your uterus was slowly shrinking back to its regular size and you were uncomfortable. “Would you like me to get you anything?”

“I would love something to drink.” Voice hoarse from sleep, she nodded before setting off for you. You sat up watching the sunrise, your daughter sleeping soundly on the bed in front of you. She was so precious. Even with closed eyes she still wiggled and stretched her hands out to the warm glowing orb.

“Seonhee, do you like that name?” You whispered, taking out a small outfit: a white onesie with sunflowers and bright yellow footed pants with soft yellow ruffles on the butt. “Jung Seonhee.”

“Ah, is that her name?” The nurse smiled, placing some apple juice and water on the small bedside table. She sanitized her hands and began helping you with the baby's clothes and diaper, bagging the old clothes and disposing of the soiled diaper. She smiled down at the little girl in her bright outfit. “I think it suits her, Seonhee”

The doctor came by on her round, her hair pulled into a tight bun and her scrubs pastel blue with stalks. “You are looking better, how are you feeling?” There was no messing around, she was straight to business, checking for any concerns or pain. Your stomach was being palpated while she brought up things to look out for. “Ultimately if anything happens that you are unsure about, even if it is something silly like, should I have coffee while breastfeeding, call this number here, they are a great service and they will help you.”

“Thank you so much.” Taking the card you were handed and a little care package from the hospital, the nurse placed the card into the baby book which had accompanied you throughout pregnancy and after. “Am I okay to go home today?”

“You are all clear. Let us know what time you want to leave and we can have all the paperwork ready.” Pausing in the doorway, a young nurse almost bumping into her, she spun around, her coat swishing with her. “After giving birth a lot of women become a little moody, fatigued, or cry. This is totally normal as your hormones will be dropping back to a normal level. It is perfectly normal to feel these things during this time.”

“Ah, that’s good to know.” You replied while searching through the care package, glancing at some of the booklets and information sheets. There was a number for a community service where mothers take their babies to be weighed and receive checkups. The nurses had few information sessions on feeding techniques and developmental leaps. 

Looking forward to being a part of a group of new mothers, you knew you would have a lot of questions eventually. It would be nice to know if other mothers have similar concerns or effective tips for any future problems.

Hoseok arrived with a big smile, kissing you sweetly before heading over to scoop up his daughter. “Wait Hobi,” you stopped him, “I need to talk to you before you get all teary-eyed again.”

“Okay,” serious expression on his face he gave you all his attention.

“We need to agree on her name and sign the birth certificate.” The smile returned to his face, the twinkle in his eyes never dwindling since the moment he stepped into the room. “I like the name 선희 (Seonhee) written as 善 meaning Good or nice and 希 as in Hope”

Hoseok watched you write an example on a scrap piece of paper, and began nodding enthusiastically. Hands shaking the two of you eyed one another passing secret smiles, the taste of giggles on the tip of your tongue. Once the document was completed Hoseok’s hand swooped up into your hair, cradling your nape as he kissed you.

Neither lazy nor heated, the kiss was full and romantic, his lips telling a story against yours. The world stopped and only Hoseok existed. Until a shrill cry broke through the silence and the two of you apart. The cry brought with it the sound of machines and nurses walking down the hall.

“You want to go home,” Hoseok raced around the hospital bed towards your daughter, wiggling in the tiny hospital portable bassinet. His style was honestly amusing. Strips of fabric hanging from a graffitied shirt with a cargo jacket and sneakers. Strange to see him holding a baby but you loved it so much. 

Just because you were parents didn’t mean you had to get rid of everything you love. Sure you had to grow up and it was extreme. The transition you made while pregnant felt like your life was ending. That you would live to serve a tiny being. But seeing Hoseok still smiling the same, still wearing the same street hip hop style reassured you that you still had a life outside of being a mother and that would never change.

Of course, the two of you probably wouldn’t club anymore. It would be unfair if either of you went out without the other and unfair on your daughter if you were not there for her. Not to mention the cost of babysitting and the trust you would need in order to leave Seonhee with someone who wasn’t you or Hoseok.

Hoseok helped you with your bags packing the car, he had borrowed Jin’s for a smoother drive. Always thoughtful even on the littlest details. Sitting by the baby's car seat while Hoseok drove you home apologizing for every speed bump and every turn.

“Hoseok, I would like to go home before it is dark. You don’t have to drive that slow.” You laughed, he was being so serious like a knight or warrior preparing for battle to protect those he loves. In the reflection of the rearview mirror, you saw his lips twitch in amusement, the sun shining on his shaggy hair. “I love you.”

“Babe,” He whined, “you can’t say that when I am driving, I want to kiss you and then we really won’t get home before dark.”

His eyes flickered up to meet yours in the mirror before concentrating diligently once more on the road. He was singing softly to the radio as he crossed town, you must have fallen asleep as you were woken by his sweet laugh and some kisses on your cheek.

“We are home Lil darling.”

Breathing deeply trying to clear your head from your nap, as the fog in your mind disappeared your hands were secured in Hoseok’s as he helped you out of the car. Standing patiently for your body to catch up, the tender sensations in your stomach leaving you stiff.

“Seonhee, time to see your new home.” Hoseok scooped up the infant holding her to his chest as if it was the most natural thing like he had several years of experience. As opposed to this child being his firstborn. He took the soft yellow muslin wrap and covered her protecting her eyes from the afternoon sun.

Opening the door, you weren’t surprised, (mostly because you had spotted their cars on the curb) to see the boys sitting on your couch equally as excited to see you as they had been the day before in the birthing suite. Hoseok was placing your bag on the table when Seonhee started crying.

“Hey, sweetheart what’s wrong?” Hoseok patted her bottom to a steady rhythm hoping it would lull her back to sleep. Her crying continued and you felt your shirt grow damp, taking a seat you held out your hands for your daughter and nursed her while the boys kept their eyes firm on one another to respect your privacy.

“Are you drinking or are you sleeping?” You giggled at your daughter who was milk drunk. Burping her gently she wiggled releasing a few loud burps and spitting up a little onto the back of your hand and the small burp cloth you had been holding to her clothes.

“Let me take her while you clean up.” Yoongi smiled, scooping up your daughter, holding her so her head was supported, her arms and legs draped over either side of his arm. His other hand rubbed and patted her back gently as he swayed.

“You look like a squashed pie.” He smiled cheekily talking to the baby in his arms. “Cute bow shape lip from your mum, and your nose is very cute like Hoseok’s.”

“How dare you call her a squashed pie.” Namjoon tried to defend but when Yoongi turned he showed the infant, her cheek squished up against his arm, her drool slowly seeping between parted lips. “Okay, maybe a little but she is also adorable.”

“All babies look like aliens when they are born,” you grinned.

“But do you love her, more than anything else in the world?” Jungkook giggled trying to make small talk while also projecting his newfound love for such a tiny being.

“We just met, I need some time to get to know her some more.” You joke playfully curled up on the couch Seokjin handing you some dinner and a cup of tea while the boys took turns meeting your daughter.

“It says in the paperwork she can have a bath tomorrow, and that her first poo might be really yucky.” Hoseok read the take-home leaflets from the hospital and constantly checked on his two girls making sure they were both safe and sound.

“Put her in outfits you don’t care if they get destroyed,” Yoongi was singing something to the child. It was low and rough. He was talking about dreams, freestyling about how your daughter didn’t need to go to university and that she didn’t have to know everything right at this moment.  

Placing the little girl into Jimin’s waiting arms. His eyes sparkled and his lip dropped as he turned soft for the little girl.

“Hello, I am Uncle Jimin and I am going to spoil you so much.” His sweet voice gasped. He practically wiggled on the spot when she brought her fists up to her closed eyes and yawned. Taehyung was quietly snapping photos, careful not to use the flash as he didn’t want to hurt the baby's sensitive eyes, even while they were closed. He assured you, that he would get photos of everyone holding Seonhee. He had already captured Yoongi and was taking a few extra of Jimin with the small bundle.

It was honestly nice to see them all so supportive and there for your daughter. Images in your mind blooming of her first Christmas and birthday and all that would follow. Namjoon would buy her a green bike with flowers and tassels on the handles and Yoongi, helping assemble it before she woke up, attaching the training wheels for her safety.

Learning how to wrap people around her finger from her Uncle Jimin and then using it against them. She would be a dancer like her father and would light up the room. You could see her performing on a stage with the eight of you waiting with flowers to throw on stage. Maybe she wouldn’t win the first prize at her first show but they would still take her out for pizza and celebrate. Her skills would improve and the day she wins the trophy she would be lifted onto Seokjin’s shoulders. 

Not noticing you had started crying until Namjoon pulled you into a hug.  “Hey what’s got you so upset.”

“No, I am not upset, I was told that as my hormones go back to normal, I might cry and be more tired and moody and upset and I just,” Sniffing Jungkook handed over some tissues and hugging your back. The newer of the group Taehyung and Jungkook had just fit perfectly into the group, it was like they were always meant to be.

“Hey love,” Hoseok said, coming over to kneel at your feet holding your knees softly. "Tell me what made you so upset."

“I was thinking about her first Christmas and her first birthday and how you would all be here and she would be loved and…” Taking a sniff and pushing the tears from your eyes you looked up at them seriously. “You can never leave now, we are going to be one big family. I hope you know you are now each my daughter's uncles and therefore responsible to attend events. If you didn’t want to be a part of the family, I am sorry you are now my family.”

More tears shook your form. “You're the only family I have, I wasn’t exactly disowned more than I left when my mother told me not to have my sweet daughter. My precious baby deserves a big happy family and so I am sorry you are stuck with me. 

“And don’t even think you are getting out of it.” You pointed at Taehyung and Jungkook, “You are my family now. Seonhee needs lots of uncles to protect her.”

“We aren’t leaving,” Seokjin grinned, taking a turn holding the wiggling bundle, smiling for a picture, and looking at her. “She will be a heartbreaker.”

~

The first couple of weeks were a learning curve filled with broken sleep, reheated meals courtesy of Seokjin, and constant fatigue looming over your head. Jimin appeared one-afternoon Taehyung, Namjoon and Yoongi apprehended your daughter. Settling her into a baby carrier strapped to Namjoon’s chest. The thick bodyguard looked a little silly with a tiny child nestled against his pecs.

Seonhee was wearing a new outfit from her uncle Jimin. It was a sweet-footed onesie with bear ears warm enough for a day out in the park. Kicked out of the house by Jimin who stressed how much you needed a break. Hoseok was at work while you were still on leave which meant you took the larger portion of the home and baby duties.

Mostly because you were at home all day, but also not wanting to interfere with his sleep schedule seeing as he was going to an actual job that needed proper attention. There wasn’t even a moment of hesitation from Jimin as he dragged you into the bathroom and started the bath filling it with a generous amount of bubble bath. It was the sleepy-time product you had chosen for your baby, emitting a soft lavender scent.

“You relax and I will wash your hair.” He smiled and he massaged your scalp to help relieve any tension, after washing out all your hair products he took your skincare products letting you lay in the bubbles as he pampered you. “You are such a good mum, you are doing amazing.”

“I hope so,” you yawned.

You stepped out of the tub, quickly wrapping yourself into the fluffy robe you hadn’t used in a while. Then sat down on your bed whilst Jimin dried and styled your hair. The others had returned, poking their heads into the room and smiling at your new refreshed look. You quickly fed your daughter while Jimin braided your hair securely.

“You rest okay, we will watch her until Hoseok comes home. Don’t worry we will come to you if we are unsure about anything and for food times.” Yoongi said playing some soft tranquil music on the small speaker by your bed. 

It seemed pointless. Laying there believing it impossible to fall asleep. As you walked past the clock reading half-past one, your stomach rumbled in a gentle protest. Before you could even think of the food you wanted to get dressed, pulling on a white crop top and a baggy overall dress. Something easy to breastfeed in. It was definitely time as your breasts were heavier with milk.

Walking out you poured yourself a glass of juice and scooped up your fussing daughter, stomach growling again. Yoongi stood up marching into the kitchen, rapidly chopping ingredients. Soon the house was filled with a savory aroma and the glorious sound of oil sizzling. 

~

Hoseok was having his first afternoon with Seonhee. You were going for a checkup. Jungkook was free and agreed to accompany you to your appointment, he almost paled when he saw the equipment on the table for your checkup. It made for a good laugh and endless teasing during your small coffee date afterward.

Jungkook’s phone buzzed and he grinned texting back quickly. “Ooh, what or who is making you smile so big?”

���Uh, I just got a funny text from Namjoon. Apparently, Hoseok asked for company so Namjoon and Yoongi stopped by the house after their errands.” He laughed, nose scrunching showing off his front teeth. “And well, your daughter may have accidentally had a poo explosion. So far from the pictures I have seen, Yoongi and Hoseok are covered in it. And while trying to help Namjoon dropped a whole bottle of baby powder and they are vacuuming the carpet.”

“Jimin and Taehyung agreed to pick up some more and I have been asked to keep you busy,” Your smile growing the more you heard, of course, they would make a mess on your first day out. Expecting something chaotic to happen but never something as funny as this. 

“I am just glad it is something like this and not that someone is sick or hurt,” You smiled while eating a strawberry cheesecake and sipping coffee. Not making any move of leaving early and relieving them of their duty. It was a right of passage and showed just how much you trusted them. Hearing that something happened and not jumping to take over.

“They said not to tell you, but how could I not?” Jungkook turned his phone showing you some photos worthy of scrapbooking, the kind you would take out for Seonhee’s twenty-first and a story she would get sick of hearing at every family gathering. “Look at them.”

“Well while they are busy, how about we go grocery shopping? I think perhaps we can make something delicious for dinner,” Standing and collecting your jacket from your chair, and leading the way. Jungkook followed listening to your concerns about your weight and figure, he assured you how good you were looking and even offered to personally train you at 21, the gym.

~

Seonhee was growing steadily. Each milestone leading into the next, she would roll over and had started to crawl. Finding herself putting things she shouldn’t in her mouth. Going back to work was hard for the first few days, leaving Seonhee at the daycare was easy but she became more clingy when she came home. It was her way of coping with the separation that came with daycare and full-time work but eventually, Seonhee got into a routine.

Understanding that her parents were always coming back made everything in the house run a lot smoother. She had a small handful of sounds, mostly eomma, appa. 

Work was a lot more tolerable and dare you to say fun. Jimin had quit his sugar baby gig and joined the company working alongside you. Sure he had broken a few hearts by canceling his service but he was happier. He never explicitly said it but you believed he was trying to be more independent and above everything else make himself more approachable to Taehyung.

Taehyung however left for a while, he had been away working with a few celebrities and luxury brands, photographing concepts, photos, and more. He had been pushing and working harder and harder as the days passed until he traveled away for his latest project. 

It was a little sad that they weren’t together but you could see the longing in Jimin’s eyes whenever he replayed Taehyung’s Instagram story. Dragging him from his desk to have lunch together and distract him from the thoughts spinning around in his head.

~

December marked eleven months since Seonhee was born. Cruising against the couch and cabinets opening things she shouldn’t. You had invested in baby locks and a small playpen. Neither really did much as she knew how to push the whole contraption across carpet and tiles to get into things. 

Mostly she would follow you to the kitchen hoping to get teething biscuits or any other treats her father would sneak her. He was never able to say no and you often found them sneaking snacks together where he would give you his big eyes and pouty lips claiming that she deserved a snack.

Christmas had your house filled to the brim with presents and boys, Seokjin was cooking in the kitchen with Yoongi’s help while Jimin and Jungkook were playing with Seonhee. Hoseok was helping Namjoon into a Santa costume in the backyard. No one had heard from Taehyung. You assumed he was busy with work and that he would be unable to make it.

There was a knock and Jungkook raced to answer it and laughed, “Finally, I thought you were skipping out on the family Christmas.”

“I wouldn’t skip out on the family Christmas, you are my favorite family,” Taehyung said handing over a suitcase to Jungkook and carrying in some bags of wrapped gifts, placing them under the tree. “Look at you, you have gotten so big!”

Namjoon Santa came in and delivered gifts and ran off getting changed only to come back and watch the gift unwrapping. Jungkook went to collect the two eldest from the kitchen, pushing Seokjin before dragging Yoongi out the two stopping in the archway.

“Hey, you are under the mistletoe!” Jimin giggled, proud that his trap had worked, he was hoping that some people would get stuck under it. “You are going to have to kiss.”

“We don’t have to, we are watching Seonhee open her gifts,” Jungkook said only to be grabbed by Yoongi who kissed the younger male and pulled away.

“Satisfied.” Yoongi turned back to the young girl opening her presents, Namjoon got her some picture books and a few educational toys. Seokjin had wrapped a small toy kitchen that was her size. Yoongi brought her to everyone’s surprise a little clam pool and some plastic toys to play with.

Jimin brought her a whole lot of princess dresses, tiaras, and fairy wings. Jungkook got her a cozy coupe red and yellow plastic car that she could push around with her legs. Taehyung handed her the small gift bag and inside was a night light that made the roof look like a galaxy and played soft music.

After Seonhee’s gifts from the boys, Hoseok brought out a box. He was struggling with it but when he opened it out popped a little dog who began licking her cheeks and wagging his tail intensely amongst the large group. “His name is Mickey.” Hoseok grinned watching Taehyung taking pictures and smiling fondly as she giggled.

Other gifts were exchanged, the most notable was Seokjin giving everyone matching sweaters with his face on it, and Taehyung’s gift to Jimin. It was a small bag and inside was the signature Tiffany blue colored box.

“You didn’t have to,” Jimin said softly and Taehyung smiled.

“I told myself I would support you, and I know you didn’t want to be treated like a sugar baby, I just told myself that I wouldn’t allow myself to date until I got you those earrings you really wanted. I wanted to give you something you could be proud of.” Taehyung explained, “And it was so hard to resist you when you kept inviting me over.”

Opening the box Jimin saw the earrings he had once mentioned ages back, the exact earrings Taehyung had handmade for him. “Now you can get rid of the ones I made you, they look horrible compared to these.

“I still love the ones you made and I will keep them forever.”

“I won’t treat you like a sugar baby anymore, I wanted to ask if maybe you wanted to go on a date.”

“Well, these earrings will get you about five dates.” Jimin giggled cheekily

“Five I thought for sure it would be five and a half?”

“Five and a free butt grab?”

“Deal!”

~

The nine of you were walking through the kid's attractions at the theme park seeing some familiar faces, you were having lunch when some music started playing. It was the theme park's dance parade and Hoseok was dragged into the dance by Taeyong.

You were giggling when WinWin dragged you up dancing with you and turned to see Hoseok on one knee, a ring box opened in his hands. You felt your chest about to explode as you tackled him to the ground sobbing in his chest. “Hoseok really, you mean it?”

“Of course, I mean it, I have loved you for years.”

“I love you so much, hell freaking yes put that ring on me, quick quick.” You kissed his face nonstop giggling between your tears. He was finally able to get the ring onto the designated finger standing and pulling you onto your feet. He kissed you passionately, you pulled back burying your face in his chest squealing.

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[five-rivers]

DP/HP twin fic chapter 1

This would be the first chapter of that DP/HP twin fic...  I need a name for it before I post it elsewhere...  I can’t think of a name... help...  @ladylynse I blame you for this entirely.  It’s 3k and they haven’t even met yet.  What am I doing.

.

Here’s the thing.  Danny had encountered wizards before.  And witches.  Multiple times.  

He was not a fan.  

Burning, or other forms of murder, hadn’t ever crossed his mind as a solution to them, even when Freakshow decided to derail his life yet again.  Still. There were only so many times you could stumble upon members of a certain group zapping people with bargain-bin neuralyzers and leaving hours’ worth of uncertain memories in their wake before you got sort of fed up.  

Memory erasure was great in fiction.  Not so much in real life.  

Danny got it.  He’d erased a couple of memories himself.  Well, a lot of memories, depending on how one took the Reality Gauntlet incident.  But as far as motivations went, ‘trying not to be dissected by the government’ was a lot different from ‘we can’t be bothered to be discreet about our sporting events and we think it’s funny that our venue managed to attract ghost hunters when these magicless fools have never seen a real ghost in their lives so we’re going to mess with them.’  

Yeah.  Danny was still annoyed about that.  Also, about their reactions to him when he crossed an invisible line that was apparently supposed to repulse ‘no-majs.’  

That was before getting into Desiree, one of the few witches to become a proper ghost.  According to her, witches and wizards had a different system, and it was rare for magic users to enter the Infinite Realms.  Dora’s dragon amulet had also been enchanted prior to her death, although that could have been a ghost’s work, and Dora had never shared where it had come from.  

Anyway, the point was that Danny knew about magic as an entity separate from ghost powers and at least a small subset of the living beings that relied upon it.  

So, when the woman who dressed like she was living a century ago and smelled of magic walked up to his house, he’d braced himself for a fight.  He wasn’t going to let his parents be ‘obliviated’ again.  They were oblivious enough as it was!

But.  No. She’d come in, no wand in sight (although Danny still wasn’t entirely sure those were necessary) and sat down on the couch, hands primly folded, ignoring all of the… rather questionable features of the Fenton living room.  

To add to the weirdness, his parents had been expecting her.  They knew her by name.  They wanted Danny to be in the room to meet her.  

“Edna,” Jack said, with a strained smile.  “How have you been?”

“Well enough,” said Edna, her eyes flicking to where Danny stood in the kitchen door, watching. “And this must be young Deneb Alased, correct?”

“Yeah,” said Danny, frowning.  There weren’t a whole lot of people who knew his legal name, let alone his middle name.  So, who was this?  “I am.” He looked at his parents, willing them to clear up whatever this was.  

Both of their faces were sour, but they were trying to hide it.  Maddie was doing better than Jack.  

“This is Edna,” said Maddie.  “Why don’t you come and sit down, Danny?”  She patted the back of Jack’s favorite recliner.

Danny noticed how Edna’s mouth twitched down at his nickname. His fingers curled, ghost energy buzzing under his skin just barely kept from his eyes.  He didn’t like this.  

“It’s alright,” said Edna, smiling kindly.  “This must be very confusing for you.  I would be concerned myself, under these circumstances. What I’m about to tell you may be difficult to process, however.”

“We’d like to start it off, actually,” said Maddie. “When you called this morning—” She broke off, making a face.  “We were told this wouldn’t happen.”

“Yes, well,” said Edna.  She shrugged.  “Purebloods. What can you do?  Evidently—Well.  You should have your say, first.”

Danny gave Edna another suspicious glance.  Maybe all wizards weren’t bad.  Maybe Freakshow was an outlier and sports fans just sucked in general.

Yeah, honestly, that tracked.  (Cough, Vlad, cough, Dash, cough.)

He sat down.  “Okay,” he said.  “Way to be ominous.  What’s going on?”

“Well, Danno,” said Jack.  He laughed nervously.

“You’re adopted,” said Maddie, bluntly.

Danny blinked.  “Wait, what?” he said.  “Adopted?  But I look just like you guys!”

Jack’s nervous chuckles continued.  “We are related to your birth parents…  not closely, but…  Yes.”

“Oh my gosh,” said Danny, feeling several layers of personal identity float away from him.  He’d always blamed his weirdness on genetics and family history.  Especially the ghost stuff.  Then again, his name, which definitely did not match with his parents’ or sister’s, probably should have tipped him off.  “You’re serious?”

“I’m afraid so, Danny,” said Jack, kneeling by the chair and patting his knee.  “But don’t worry!  You’ll always be a Fenton, no matter what!”

Danny nodded, swallowing back emotion.  “And Jazz?  Is she…?”

“She’s adopted, too.  At about the same time as you, in fact,” said Maddie.  “So am I and Alicia.  It’s a long story.”

“Okay,” said Danny, determined to get that story at some point.  “Why is she here, then?”

“I was involved in your adoption,” she explained, “and certain members of your birth family want to get back in contact with you.”  

Ancients, that was sure a thing to hit a guy with right after the ‘you’re adopted’ revelation.  

Hold up.  He was forgetting something.  This was a witch.  How did that play into this?  Because it had to.  Witches and wizards, as far as Danny could tell, tended to isolate themselves from the rest of humanity.  

He decided he did not like the probable trajectory of this conversation.  

“Why?” he asked, because he wasn’t going to say he knew about magic until and unless someone else cracked first.  

“Yes,” said Maddie.  “Why?  Why now? We were under the impression that they would never contact us.”

“Evidently,” said Edna, “Deneb’s birth mother was not properly informed of the decision to put him up for adoption.”

Okay.  Yeah. That was a lead-in to his biological parents being magical because he couldn’t think of a single modern western country where that would fly.  

“So, what?  I was kidnapped at birth or something?” asked Danny.

“Not exactly,” said Edna, wincing.  “It was your birth father who filed the paperwork.”

“And she’s only now wondering where Danny is?” asked Maddie, a little shrilly.  Her stress from before was now spilling over into anger so sharp Danny could taste it like a knife on his tongue.  “Did she somehow manage to forget giving birth?”

“No,” said Edna.  “Which brings us to the other matter.  One of the other matters.  The one who first sent the request for your adoption information was actually your twin brother.”

A third monumental revelation.  Wonderful.  What next?

“We, of course, contacted his parents, and discovered the irregularity regarding your birth mother’s consent.  Hence my presence here today.”  She opened her bag and removed a small glass tube, about twice the length of Danny’s palm and the same diameter as a quarter.   “There was also the issue regarding how young you were when you were put up for adoption.  Generally, our agency deals with the placement of children aged from five to eleven.”  She held the tube out to Danny.  “Could you hold this, please?”

“Do you really need to do this?” asked Jack.  

“Due to all the irregularities involved, yes,” said Edna. “Our organization charter unfortunately requires it.  If the mother was not consulted, as is required, the reasoning is that other required things are not as certain.”

“Hold up,” said Danny, hands tightening around the ends of the armrests.  “These people—” Who were most probably wizards, and wasn’t that a thing to get his head around, “—they’re not trying to get custody of me again, are they? After giving me away?”

“No,” said Maddie.  “We won’t let that happen.”

“We’re not going to give him back to people who were going to abandon him just because—!”  Dad broke off.  “Uh. Because.”

Smooth.  

“You know,” said Danny, deciding to cut off… whatever this was. “Even if this ‘test’ is, like…” He trailed off.  “Whatever result you want it to be.  I don’t know.  I’m still going to find out whatever it is you’re dancing around anyway.  Because I’m not going to forget this conversation.”

Silence.  

The witch twitched slightly towards where Danny knew her wand was hidden.  

Screw it.  “And I’m not going to let you erase my memory.  You people do get how messed up that is, right?”

Danny was treated to the sound and sight of three jaws dropping open.  

“How do you-?” started Maddie.  

“You remember when we went to that camp because people thought it was haunted?  But you didn’t find anything?  Well, they managed to get both of you that time, but not me.  And I know you’re one of them, so I’m betting that whatever this is, it has to do with magic.”  He paused. “It was some weird magic sporting event, apparently.”

“The-?  You went to the Quidditch World Cup?” asked Edna.

“What?  No!” protested Maddie.  “That was in Britain, wasn’t it?  We were just in the next state.”  She scowled. “I’m going to write a letter of complaint.  Even if we’re living without magic, we’re not no-majs.  We’re squibs.  They had no right to obliviate us.”

“Okay,” said Danny.  “Yeah.  You’ve lost me.  Squibs?”

No one seemed willing to answer the question.  

“If you’d just take this,” said Edna, holding out the tube a little desperately.  “It will be much easier to explain all at once.”

Danny looked up at his parents.  Jack looked at Maddie.  Maddie drummed her fingers on the back of his chair.  

“It’ll be fine,” said Maddie, “probably.”

“Fine,” said Danny.  He took the tube.  Almost at once, it started glowing green.  

“Oh,” said Edna, frowning and leaning closer.  “It usually isn’t—”

The tube exploded, embedding several small glass shards in Danny’s hands.  

“Ow,” said Danny.  

“Oh,” said Edna again, evidently not registering the small splinter of glass in her cheek.  “Well. Whoever your birth father hired to test your magic as an infant obviously got it wrong.  Congratulations, Mr. Fenton.  You’re a wizard.”

“My hand is bleeding.”

“Yes,” agreed Edna.  “It isn’t supposed to explode, you see.”

.

Once Danny got cleaned up, which involved a lot of glaring at Edna from Maddie and Jack, they adjourned to the kitchen, which was free of random glass shards.  

“The adoption organization I work for,” said Edna, “places squibs—people born to magical parents who do not have magic themselves—with families of squibs.  Assuming the child’s birth parents do want to give up their child over something like not having magic.”  Her nose wrinkled.  “The common wisdom is that it is easier for such children to grow up in an environment that is not explicitly magical.  In any case, it is my personal belief that anyone who would give up a child over something like that isn’t going to be the best of parents.”

“Alright,” said Danny, “so… all of us are squibs.”

“Except you, apparently,” said Edna.  “It’s hard to tell whether or not someone as young as you were when you were given up will be magical or not.  Which is why we usually only deal with older children.  I don’t suppose you’ve noticed anything odd happening around yourself?  Or unusual abilities?”

Danny stared at her flatly for several long moments.  His entire life could be classified as ‘odd,’ and most of it he wasn’t about to share with Edna.  Or his parents, as much as he loved them.

But, on the other hand, he now had a great excuse for at least some of his weirdness.  His parents wouldn’t think ghost if they could think wizard first.

“Like, define ‘odd,’” said Danny.  Despite his earlier encounters with wizards, he had no idea what was normal for them.  Other than memory wiping.  Which he could not do and wouldn’t have demonstrated anyway.  

Okay.  If was actually a wizard, and Edna’s doohickey wasn’t just reacting to his ghostliness, he probably could learn how to do the memory thing, but he didn’t know now, so the distinction was meaningless.  

(Maybe being a wizard or a squib or whatever was why he wasn’t just.  Dead.)

(Yeah, he didn’t want to think about that.)

“Just…  Being in one place, and then a different place.  Surviving something you shouldn’t have been able to unscathed.  Things moving by themselves or changing color or size. Temperature changes.  Something you want very badly happening, even if it is impossible or extremely unlikely.”

“Okay,” said Danny.  “Yeah.”

“To which one?” asked Jack, concerned.  “I haven’t noticed anything like that except what the ghosts do.”

“Um,” said Danny.  “This?”  He put his hand down on the table, intending to leave an icy handprint.  That should be acceptable, right?  If temperature changes were normal…

His nerves got the best of him.  He knew he was nervous showing even one of his powers around his parents.  He overcompensated.  

The table was covered with frost.  

“Oops?” said Danny.  

All the blood had left Edna’s face.  Jack and Maddie didn’t look much better.  

“Dear lord,” said Edna.  “You can do that at will?”

“Yes,” said Danny, holding his hand close to his chest. “More or less.”

“Danny,” said Jack, “why didn’t you tell us?”

“I thought you’d think it was a ghost thing.  You kind of shoot first and ask questions later about ghost things.”

“Oh my god,” said Edna.  “Never mind that.  You can do wandless magic and you’re fourteen?”

“Fifteen,” said Danny, “but, yeah.  I guess.”

Evidently, this wasn’t normal.  

Also, his comment about shooting first hurt his parents’ feelings.  Go figure. Not like they weren’t keeping a massive secret.  

.

“So,” said Danny, once the other discussions had been shelved for the time being, “I have a brother?  I think a brother was, at some point, mentioned.”

“Yes,” said Edna.  “A twin brother.  He wants to meet you.  Along with your biological mother.”

“And if I don’t want to?” asked Danny.  “If I don’t want to have anything to do with them?”

“I don’t even know,” said Edna.  “I can’t believe you slipped under the national detection spell. There’s going to be so much paperwork involved in this.  International paperwork.”

“Huh?”

“You were born in Britain,” said Edna, as if this were a minor detail.  

Yeah.  Like his sense of self needed any further pummeling.  

“But it isn’t our fault everything is so messed up,” said Danny.  He maybe had some curiosity about his twin brother, but if there was any risk he’d be taken away…

“I understand,” said Edna, “but nothing like this has come up before, as far as we know.”  She sighed. “If it makes you feel better, I will use any influence I have in the matter to recommend that you retain custody of Deneb.  In the meantime…  Do you want to, uh, open communications with any members of your biological family?”

“I don’t know,” said Danny.  “Can I think about it?”

.

Relations in the Malfoy household had been strained ever since Draco’s investigation of his family tree (unrelated to the return of the Dark Lord and how blood purity was now much, much more important) had revealed that his twin brother had not, in fact, died at birth.  

And by strained, Draco meant that his parents had taken to living on opposite sides of the manor, interacting only when there were visitors.  Visitors such as his father’s Death Eater friends, members of society, and various government officials.  All of whom were more alike, and had greater overlap, than even Draco had initially suspected.  

This left Draco walking on eggshells between the two of them and wishing for Hogwarts to start again.  Anything he did to please one had to be entirely out of sight of the other, or else they began to fight again.  Truthfully, Draco was more on his mother’s side, all things considered, but his father was the one with the friends, and Draco couldn’t stay home under his mother’s wings for all his life.  Like his dragon namesake, he had to fly.  

Which he would most certainly do.  Soon.  No, he wasn’t hiding from his parents in his room.  That would be ridiculous.  They knew where his room was.  They could find him if they wanted to, and neither of them was anywhere near him.  He knew.  He’d checked.

This made the inarticulate shriek of rage he overheard from his mother all the more concerning.  

It was enough to make him emerge – cautiously! – from his self-imposed exile.  

He was curious.  And stupid.  It got him into enough trouble at school, why not at home?

Also, he really needed to know.  For his own safety.  Tiptoeing around whatever disaster just happened would be impossible if he didn’t know what it was.  

Instead, he tiptoed after his mother.  

His mother, who was angry enough that sparks were coming off the end of her tightly gripped wand.  Green sparks.  

Draco had never actually seen the killing curse in action, but his mother’s face screamed murder all on its own, no magic required, despite the fact that Draco was only catching glimpses of it as she strode towards his father’s half of the house.  

This was going to be bad.  Terrible.  Possibly the kind of event that saw one of his parents in Azkaban and the other in little, tiny pieces all around the smoking room.  

Lucius, for his part, looked paralyzed where he stood, and Draco briefly entertained the notion that Narcissa had managed to cast petrificus totalis on him without moving her wand or speaking the words.

Narcissa planted herself firmly in front of Lucius and glared up at him, seething, her breath making sucking noises as it passed through her teeth.  

She punched Lucius in the face.  The man toppled, clutching his nose.  Narcissa kicked him.

It was a good thing that the Malfoys had no neighbors, because what Narcissa screamed next likely could have been heard for at least a mile.

“He wasn’t even a squib, you lying bastard!”