#full seriousness my cousin and best friend was our witness

[daiseukiis]

hello, MY LOVE! i was so busy with exams and essays, but now im free, sitting back eating popcorn while i enjoy your daily rambles <333 i hope snow hasn't bothered you lately (rain has been HORRIBLE for me fr walked back from the convenient store one day with sopping clothes and everything)

ah. the childhood bffs to loverz- what a joy. hope u and ur husband are very well and in love 🫶🏻 (@saekkas)

omg im so happy your finally getting sum free time to yourself !!! how was exams ?? tbh rn im in the middle of study case report due in 4 hours but uh... its easy i could finish in 30 so im kinda just sitting here looking for excuses not to do it? ( despite my prof emailing me to get it done on friday but i disrespectfully told him to fuck off )

my city has no snow !! not since jan? my part of the city doesnt snow much compared to the old city i moved from that was known to snow lots! the city i moved to is known for their rain 😭 so i feel you w the rain problem

ah. yes. bonus info; we had a secret wedding and our parents don't know we're married. welcome to my life as yn

[evermoreholland]

I Do | Charlie Gillespie

Pairing: Charlie Gillespie x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Charlie decided to get married on Christmas without much planning.

Warnings: Just fluff

Word Count: 1,632

A/n: This was a request from @d4whovian!

“Mommy, that little boy’s crying,” 6-year-old you told your mother. You had gone to the park with your parents and you saw a little boy crying by the slide. He had long brown locks and hazel eyes.

“Go see if he wants to play, honey,” your mother said, pushing you in the direction of the little boy. You made your way over to the boy and sat next to him by the slide.

“I’m Y/n, what’s your name?” You asked as you reached out your hand for him to shake. He laughed at your formality.

“Je m'appelle Charlie,” the young boy spoke. You noticed how he spoke French. Your parents often spoke in French, as well as English. In Dieppe, it was common to speak both.

“My mommy and daddy speak in French too.”

“I also know English, but my mom thinks French is a pretty language,” Charlie said with a toothy grin.

“Wanna be friends, Charlie?” you asked the boy with hope in your eyes.

“No one ever wants to be my friend,” he responded, shocked that you had pursued any interest in him.

“I do, I do.” You said excitedly. That would not be the only time you said those words to him.

~~~

You and Charlie had been friends ever since the two of you met in the park. You got along almost instantly, and your parents loved Charlie as well. Your mothers became close, almost inseparable. You were grateful of course. You were glad that your parents loved Charlie and his family almost as much as you did. It was all you could have ever wanted.

“Y/n, you know I love you, right?” Charlie asked as the two of you were sitting on your bed watching Beaches, your all-time favorite movie. It was a movie about two best friends and the power of their love for one another. It always brought tears to your eyes. You held that movie close to your heart. It reminded you of the amazing bond you and Charlie shared.

17-year-old you was absolutely stunned by your best friend’s confession. Yeah, the two of you loved each other, but you never said anything. It goes without saying that you loved Charlie, with every fiber of your being. But in what way was he referring to?

“Yeah, I know. I love you, too.” You replied.

“No, I mean that I am in love with you.” A part of you saw this confession coming. Your mother has been telling you for years that Charlie was in love with you, but you tried not to make a big deal out of it. Now, on the other hand, you definitely were freaking out a bit.

“Are you serious?” You asked. You had no idea what else to say. You were trying to buy yourself some time to think about the correct thing to say to him, Charlie, the love of your life and best friend forever.

“Dead serious. You mean the world to me.”

“You mean the world to me, too.” That goes without saying. You would do anything for Charlie. He was everything to you. Without him, you don’t know where you’d be.

“So, do you feel the same way about me?”

“I do, Charlie. I really do.”

~~~

You and Charlie had dated for a beautiful five years before Charlie decided to pop the question of marriage. You understand why he waited, though. You were both so young and he wanted to make sure everything was perfect and that the timing was right.

“Y/n, there is no one else I’d rather spend the rest of my life with,” twenty-two-year-old Charlie Gillespie tells you after a fantastic and successful dinner date for your birthday. You were both finally at home, sprawled out on the couch drinking some red wine. The room was calm and it couldn’t have been more perfect than it was.

“What are you saying, Charlie?” You asked, so much hope in your eyes that he’d say what you absolutely wanted him to say. Charlie got up from his spot on the couch and kneeled in front of you. He reached for his back pocket and pull out a red velvet box. He opened it gently and there revealed a beautiful diamond ring.

“I love you, Y/n. Will you marry me?”

“Yes, Charlie. Of course, I will marry you!” You exclaimed and then jumped into his arms. Tears were streaming down your face and Charlie made sure to kiss every inch of your face.

“I’m taking that you really love me, babe.” Charlie teased.

“I do.”

~~~

It was finally Christmas, your favorite time of the year. You loved getting to spend time with your family and all of the people that you love. You and Charlie were at your parents’ house at your annual Christmas Eve party. Your entire family was there, along with Charlie’s. It was the perfect opportunity to gather everyone together to celebrate the holiday.

“I’ve been thinking,” Charlie said. You were both sitting on the couch, sipping on some egg nog while your mother finished setting up the game the entire family was about to play.

“That can’t be good.” You teased.

“Very funny, Y/n. Anyway, I was thinking, why wait to plan an entire wedding when we can get married right here?”

“What are you trying to say, Charlie?”

“I want to get married to you, today, in front of both of our families.” He said with the biggest smile on his face.

“Did I hear something about getting married right now?” Your mother interjected.

“That sounds like an amazing idea!” Jeanette, Charlie’s mother, agreed.

“You know what? Let’s do it,” you said and everyone shouted in happiness for the two of you.

Your cousin decided to get a marriage license online to do the ceremony. It wasn’t ideal, but it was perfect nonetheless. You were about to marry the love of your life, what couldn’t be better than that?

“Good evening everyone! From this place, the beautiful home of Y/n’s parents, we take ourselves out of the usual routines of daily living to witness a unique moment in the lives of Charles and Y/n. Today they join their lives in the union of marriage.” Your cousin said in front of all of your family, finally beginning the ceremony. You and Charlie were standing in the front of the room holding hands, ready to get married.

“A marriage, as most of us understand it, is a voluntary and full commitment. It is made in the deepest sense to the exclusion of all others, and it is entered into with the desire and hope that it will last for life. Before you declare your vows to one another, I want to hear you confirm that it is indeed your intention to be married today.” She said and you both nodded your heads.

“Charlie, do you come here freely and without reservation to give yourself to Y/n in marriage? If so, answer I do.”

“I do,” Charlie said in a heartbeat.

“Y/n, do you come here freely and without reservation to give yourself to Charlie in marriage? If so, answer I do.”

“I do.”

“Now, for the marriage vows.” You and Charlie planned on writing your own vows and now you would both have to do them on the spot. It was spontaneous and it fit both of your personalities.

“Y/n, from the moment I met you by the slide by the playground, I knew you were it for me,” Charlie said and everyone laughed. “In all seriousness, you make me a better man. You bring out the best qualities in me and for that I am grateful. I promise to love you until the day I die, and I promise to always make you laugh. I promise to provide for you and take of you. I promise to love you until my last breath and I mean that with every fiber of my being. I love you, Y/n. I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”

You couldn’t help but cry. He was truly perfect.

“Charlie, it’s always been you. From the moment I saw you, I knew that I always wanted you to be in my life. You are truly captivating, Charlie Gillespie. Your unique and bright energy brought me to you. You have passion for everything you do and I admire you for that. You are inspiring and one of a kind. I’m lucky to know you. I promise to love you each and every day for the rest of our lives. I know that I have some flaws but I promise that I will never stop loving you, Charlie.”

“Charlie, do you take Y/n to be your wedded wife, to live together in marriage? Do you promise to love her, comfort her, honor and keep her for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and health, and forsaking all others, be faithful only to her, for as long as you both shall live?” Your cousin continued on with the wedding ceremony.

“I do. With all of my heart.” Charlie said.

“Y/n, do you take Charlie to be your wedded husband, to live together in marriage? Do you promise to love him, comfort him, honor and keep him for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and health, and forsaking all others, be faithful only to him, for as long as you both shall live?”

“I do.”

“So now by the power vested in me, it is my honor and delight to declare you husband and wife. Charlie, you may now kiss your bride.”

Charlie did not waste any time on that. It was indeed a merry Christmas after all.

[prettywordsyouleft]

The Cowboy - Part 5

Summary: Leaving the city for a rural area called Blayne seemed simple enough. Your task was to convince the people to agree with selling their land for a resort redevelopment. But once there, you soon realise that your city ways are entirely different to theirs. Winning their trust was going to take some effort, and when you start to fall for a local cowboy, you wonder if you really needed Blayne more than the city life after all.

Pairing: Jung Jaehyun x female reader

Genre: cowboy au / drama / romance / if you squint there’s some enemies to lovers up in here.

Warnings: Jung Jaehyun is a cowboy, need I say more? (a bit of angst and drama, and it sometimes might feel like you’re reading a Nicolas Sparks book, so I’m told lol) — if you aren’t a meat lover, there is a scene at the end that involves talk about meat.

Word count: 2093

This series will be updated every Thursday and Friday.

Preview | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

It was dark out by the time you reached your homestead, and you frowned when your headlights shone against the back end of a truck. Shutting off the engine after parking beside the unwanted vehicle, you got out and approached the man leaning against the veranda handrail.

“Here to see whether or not I’d skip town?” you accused with a dry tone, walking passed Jaehyun and straight to unlock the front door. You didn’t stop for his sake, flicking on the lights and went into the kitchen.

Jaehyun followed you in. “No.”

“Then what brings you around here, Cowboy? You made yourself clear enough last night on your stance. I’ll stay out of your way as best as I can. I’d appreciate if you did the same.”

He had removed his cowboy hat and held it in front of himself, his grip tightening when you turned to look at him. You witnessed the remaining sincerity get squashed by a hard look instead. “Well, I shouldn’t have bothered. It seems you’re just fine, Y/N.”

“Perfectly.”

“I won’t keep you then. Goodnight.”

You followed Jaehyun back to the front door where he stepped over the threshold and turned to look back at you. He seemed to want to say something more, and you waited with bated breath before he turned for his truck. Closing the door, you re-trailed your steps into the kitchen in a daze.

Why had Jaehyun come if it weren’t to check on your plans to leave?

You glanced back at the door in surprise. Was he going to apologise for last night?!

“I ruined it!” you whined and stomped your foot, rapping your knuckles gently over your head, berating yourself. “I waited so long for that apology too!”

Looking out the kitchen window, you watched as the truck roared down the driveway until his taillights were no longer visible.

That apology was long gone now.

The following morning, you heard several new noises outside and blearily shunted a window up and leaned out it to see what was going on. Blinking slowly, you focused on the barn out back where the sounds were coming from. You watched as more of the scene started to make sense to you, the two men throwing hay bales out of the loft of the barn onto the back of a truck.

The same truck that left your drive last night.

“Morning Y/N!” a cheerful Avery suddenly greeted, and you shrieked, knocking the top of your head on the window frame as you ducked back inside, your hands covering your chest. Looking down at the sheer chemise you wore, you then stared at the mirror across the room in horror.

Did they see anything just now? Darting over to your wardrobe where your dressing gown hung, you threw it around your body and thumped down the stairs, slipping your feet into the gumboots Avery had gifted you that you kept at the back door and walked over to the barn.

“What are you doing?!” you exclaimed and both men stopped transporting the hay.

“Oh, sorry, did we wake you?” Avery asked with a friendly grin. “Around these areas, we’re up long before now. We should have realised it might not be the same for you.”

“It’s the crack of dawn!”

Jaehyun snorted. “It’s seven-thirty. You’ve missed dawn entirely.”

“Ah. Well, it’s still early for me.” Both men stared at you, and you started to feel awkward. “It’s fine… I just… waking up to men…”

“Ahhhh,” Avery concluded sheepishly and came down the loft ladder to your side. “We needed hay. We stock the barn up down here since no one’s living here to utilise it for livestock with our excess hay. Although we have plenty of grass now with it being spring, we’re preparing for summer when the grass dies off, and we need to feed out again.”

“You don’t need to explain it to her. This is our land, and we waited until a sufficient hour,” Jaehyun stated, throwing down another bale onto the pile they were making.

You stared up at him in the loft and then turned back to Avery. “Sorry, I over-reacted.”

“Seems to be a trend.”

Avery glanced at his cousin and then rolled his eyes, pulling you aside. “Did something happen between you two?”

“N-No. Not exactly.”

“Huh. He’s been exceptionally irksome over the last day. He even cut off early from work yesterday, saying he needed to meet with someone to settle a problem. I had thought it was with you.”

Grimacing lightly, you shook your head. “Don’t worry about it. I get that a lot of people don’t like me here.”

“I don’t mind!” Avery countered, and you grinned at him. He mirrored your expression and then pointed at your head. “But uh… is this what you look like when you wake up?”

“What?” Feeling the top of your head and then clamping your eyes shut at the evident mess of your hair, you heard Avery chuckle heartily. “It was nice seeing you again Avery!”

“I can’t wait to see what other looks you’ll sport whilst you’re here in Blayne, Y/N!” he called after you as you dashed back inside the house, whining outlandishly at looking so ridiculous in front of them.

The next two weeks went by with research inside and out. You took down detailed accounts of the families in Blayne and met with some of them when you went into town. You familiarised yourself with the map of the area and went out on afternoon excursions to discover where best would suit development. You spent your evenings in the town modelling software on your computer, transferring data you had taken down during the day. It was still early days, but you were excited to show your progress to Pierce in a Zoom call on Monday.

But for now, it was the weekend, and it was your first one here where you felt that you didn’t have to work overtime and could officially relax.

Back in the city, you used the weekends for recreation after a busy week. You would sleep in and lounge around your house until you were ready to head out. You’d get your weekly groceries, hit up the gym and then meet with friends in the evening.

You’d already done the lie in part of your usual routine and had lounged around for as long as it took you to eat your breakfast. Without the internet being so readily usable, you couldn’t catch up on current affairs, or the latest social news on Instagram.

You had come to realise just how often your phone had been in front of your face back home.

“Well, I guess it time to get some supplies,” you announced, going upstairs and putting on another of your new casual dresses. Although you still didn’t like the countryside, you did enjoy dressing down a lot more than you expected. You wondered if it was a waste bringing all those pencil skirts and pantsuits with you.

Humming along to a song as you drove into town, you were surprised when a couple of the people you crossed paths with waved. It was a contrast to when they would simply stop and stare, which brought a wider smile to your face.

“Maybe they’ll start to like me soon,” you hoped and pulled up in front of the small grocers on Main Street. You grabbed your reusable bags from the passenger seat and got out, locking the door out of habit. Walking up to the entrance, you pushed on one of the doors to enter.

Except it was locked.

“Huh?” you said in confusion, reaching for the other handle. It didn’t budge either.

“Don’t you know how to read?” a familiar voice asked and you glanced to your left, inhaling a deep breath at the sight of Jaehyun.

You were still too bothered and humiliated by him that you wished to meet with anyone else than him. Still, Jaehyun stepped closer and pointed to the closed sign. “It’s shut until Monday.”

“Who closes their shops on the weekend?”

“Blayne does. You should have come during the week. You’ve been here for almost three weeks, and you didn’t know it closes on the weekends?”

“I was working.”

“That you were.”

“Must you always turn up where I don’t wish for you to?” you asked honestly and then tapped your mouth when you realised you had said that out loud.

Jaehyun smirked. “I guess so.”

“Sorry. I just… whatever. Are the shops open in the town nearby? I need milk.”

“I can get you some milk.”

“It’s fine. I need a specific kind.”

“The grocers won’t be open there either.”

“Really?! Then I have to travel two hours to the closest city for my groceries?!” you wondered hopelessly, flapping your bags around with frustration. “Why is everything closed?!”

“Can I talk now?” Jaehyun questioned humouredly, and you nodded once. “We close the shops on the weekends around here, but the market’s open.”

“Market?”

Jaehyun had gestured for the keys to your car, and without much thought, you offered them to him, climbing into the passenger seat and staring at his side profile as he drove. He glanced at you before looking back at the road. “Am I that handsome?”

“You’re full of it,” you responded weakly, snapping your eyes onto the road. “What kind of market is this?”

“A fresh produce kind. Have you never attended one?”

“Ahhh, an organic shop. We have a grocer three streets down from my apartment where they get fresh produce and meat from the growers on the outskirts.”

“Seriously?” Jaehyun shook his head. “Just you wait.”

“This is amazing!” you enthused an hour later, thanking another seller for the fresh fruit you had just purchased from them.

Jaehyun took the bag from you again and shrugged. “It’s just a market.”

“Just a market?! Can you smell what I’m smelling?! Oh my god, we have to stop for lunch here.”

“Do we?”

You pointed to a burgers sign and nodded eagerly. You bounced up to the counter of the food truck and then gasped. “Avery!”

“Y/N! You finally found out about the produce market!” He looked over your shoulder and then nodded. “So that’s why you bailed on me.”

“Huh?” you asked, looking between the cousins as Jaehyun rubbed at his neck. “I want to try something delicious!”

“Are you opposed to lots of meat?”

“No! Load me up, Avery!”

Once seated at a picnic table with your bacon and beef burger, you beamed across at Jaehyun. “This is totally what I needed.”

“You’re like a kid in a candy store.”

“You’ve been to a candy store before?!” you teased with feigned surprise, and Jaehyun laughed.

“You’re different today.”

“This is me normally.”

“Then how come I haven’t met this version of you, Y/N?” Jaehyun wondered, and you frowned, wiping your lips when you felt sauce from your burger on them. Jaehyun merely watched you, and you coughed lightly, reaching for your juice.

Once composed, you shrugged. “You never really give me the option.”

“I’ve given you plenty of options,” he remarked, and you shook your head. “You turned me away first, remember.”

“I’m really sorry about that. I’ve never had someone speak to me so blunt like that. At the time, I was annoyed with you. But I get why now. I am a stranger with bold ideas, and none of you asked for me to turn up.” You let out a little laugh. “I waited for an apology, but I realised it’s me who owed you one. You’re right. I showed up with little knowledge. But give me a chance. I’m ad-”

“Adaptable,” he finished off with a grin, nodding lightly. “I know.”

“This is amazing, though. The produce markets out here are an entire affair. There’s music and pony rides for the kids, and it just has a general festival vibe. Does this happen every weekend?”

Jaehyun nodded. “We celebrate life a lot out here. We work hard, and at the weekends we try to have fun as best as we can. We might not have fancy technology or-”

“No, this is loads better than the city. Believe me.”

“It is?” he asked earnestly, and you nodded.

“And you thought I wouldn’t last more than two days,” you told him with a laugh and Jaehyun joined you.

“Maybe a month isn’t so hard to imagine with you around, Y/N.”

You stopped laughing then, staring at the man in confusion as your stomach erupted into flutters.

_________________

Part 6

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[averytiredbitch]

MK 11 Nozomi vs Canon intro fight dialogues part 2

I FINALLY GOT EM FINISHED!

TW/CW for: Trauma, kidnapping, hints of abuse

Nozomi, Melantha, Shariah, Nyx, Michiko, and Fuyuka all belong to me

the rest belong to midway/NRS

ENJOY

Nozomi: Shariah is nearly done healing if you would like to see her.

Baraka: I will believe that when I see her myself Goddess!

Nozomi: What did I just say?

-

Nozomi: Hey, does it ever occur to you that I have a mother?

Baraka: You’re still Quan Chi’s spawn.

Nozomi: Yeah but I’m also Fuyuka’s spawn!

-

Nozomi: I am here to help!

Baraka: We don’t need your help!

Nozomi: That’s not what Kitana said.

---

Nozomi: I appreciate your gratitude Ms. Cage.

Cassie: Don’t sweat it. Just call me Cassie.

Nozomi: Oh? So who’s the humble one now?

-

Nozomi: Out of my way Cassandra!

Cassie: What has Raiden ever done to you!?

Nozomi: Didn’t he get your mother killed?

-

Nozomi: I am a mother trying to help her daughter. Move please!

Cassie: And I’m a daughter trying to save her mother!

Nozomi: I promise you, Sonya won’t be hurt.

---

Nozomi: Go home aunt Cetrion.

Cetrion: Nozomi, please don’t do this.

Nozomi: I said, go home!

-

Nozomi: Did you know the truth too?

Cetrion: Only the One Being knew the soul you harbored

Nozomi: But did you know of his plan to contact that soul?

-

Nozomi: Aunt Cetrion trust me, Rain would never hurt me.

Cetrion: He has a lot to prove before I believe that.

Nozomi: And here I thought Mom’s judgment was enough for you.

---

Nozomi: My mom isn’t weak!

D’Vorah: Then why does Kronika want her erased?

Nozomi: Cause my mom poses a threat to her!

-

Nozomi: Tell your new master that if she touches my world, I’ll erase her instead.

D’Vorah: This one would like to see you try.

Nozomi: Watch me!

-

Nozomi: Want to know a secret D’Vorah?

D’Vorah: And what would that be, Nozomi?

Nozomi: I’m not scared of you either.

---

Nozomi: I’m more than a demi-goddess, Erron.

Erron: Well what in tarnation are you?

Nozomi: A whole mess

-

Nozomi: Erron I’m not good at anything

Erron: Who hurt you?

Nozomi: A lot of people.

-

Nozomi: I have it in for a lot of people Black.

Erron: Would those happen to be the same people who hurt you?

Nozomi: Yes. And no.

---

Nozomi: You seek revenge?

Frost: Give me the ideas grandma!

Nozomi: First, who are we going against?

-

Nozomi: In all seriousness, your mom said you do have a temper.

Frost: A temper that’s saved me!

Nozomi: A temper that has also hurt you.

-

Nozomi: I am ageless, yes.

Frost: Then you must be older than Kronika herself!

Nozomi: Do you not know how agelessness works?

---

Nozomi: Don’t worry about me uncle Fujin. I’m fine.

Fujin: I am sorry we didn’t get to Gae before he got to you.

Nozomi: He’s dead. We don’t talk about him.

-

Nozomi: You wanna know what my other goal is?

Fujin: Yes! Please, talk to me.

Nozomi: There is no other goal. There is only revenge.

-

Nozomi: I must admit, I will miss some people when I go.

Fujin: What is stopping you from staying?

Nozomi: A lot of things Uncle Fujin. A lot.

---

Nozomi: Then you can oppose him?

Geras: You. You are his mother.

Nozomi: I may harbor her soul, but I am not Khaos!

-

Nozomi: If I have three daughters, I won’t let them be eaten.

Geras: You might not be able to avoid that fate, Nozomi.

Nozomi: That will be one fate I won’t repeat!

-

Nozomi: Tell me Geras, does Kronika mess with my memories?

Geras: It is the back and forth from your world to ours.

Nozomi: That’s impossible!

---

Nozomi: I never answered your question did I?

Jacqui: What question?

Nozomi: The one of my disappearance after seeing my dad get decapitated.

-

Nozomi: The family matters my mother is attending is not one I wish to go to

Jacqui: Why not?

Nozomi: I might see him again.

-

Nozomi: Not my mom, but the sword she wields.

Jacqui: The famed Reaper of Nebulas?

Nozomi: The very same!

---

Nozomi: You made sure to put the books back right?

Jade: I am borrowing one right now

Nozomi: Nobody takes books from mother’s temple!

-

Nozomi: Platonically means out of friendship

Jade: Oh! What strange language you gods have.

Nozomi: That’s actually an Earthrealm term.

-

Nozomi: I suggest Melantha. The Goddess of Death herself.

Jade: There is more than one Death deity?

Nozomi: Yes there is.

---

Nozomi: Bold of you to assume we have family get-togethers in the first place, Briggs.

Jax: You’re right. My bad.

Nozomi: No worries Briggs.

-

Nozomi: Oh yeah? Name one other time I lost my shit!

Jax: When your daddy got his chopped off.

Nozomi: Name another time!

-

Nozomi: I don’t think Rain wants to go with me

Jax: Long distance relationships can be hard.

Nozomi: Long distance?

---

Nozomi: No. No. Cage, Quan Chi is my dad by birth.

Johnny: What about Raiden?

Nozomi: He’s my dad in spirit.

-

Nozomi: If you think me controlling lighting is weird just wait til you see the other elements I control.

Johnny: Are you the Avatar?

Nozomi: I need to watch that with Lao again.

-

Nozomi: You don’t get enough recognition in Hollywood Cage?

Johnny: Not anymore.

Nozomi: Ouch!

---

Nozomi: There are variants to my name depending on the characters used

Kabal: The what?

Nozomi: At least according to Earthrealm customs.

-

Nozomi: I’m not saying Kristy lied! I’m saying, did she say it was me?

Kabal: Well, not exactly.

Nozomi: So why am I the first person you went to?

-

Nozomi: No I do not make em revenants like my dad.

Kabal: Then what do you do?

Nozomi: Have you met Michiko and Reiki?

---

Nozomi: Why does my potential union to Rain interest you?

Kano: Bloke owes me a lot of money

Nozomi: And you think I’ll help pay for that? How cute.

-

Nozomi: I’ll teach you a lesson you’ll never forget!

Kano: Eh sorry teach. School’s out for the summer.

Nozomi: Welcome to summer school Kano!

-

Nozomi: A Devil, a Goddess, or a Titan.

Kano: What do all those have to do with me?

Nozomi: Pick whichever you want to call me, but you’re still paying your debt

---

Nozomi: I’m gonna miss you.

Kitana: Won’t you stay?

Nozomi: I’ve stayed long enough

-

Nozomi: Your friend Jade cares a great deal for you

Kitana: Her, Mileena, and Nyx are like my sisters.

Nozomi: Nyx says hi by the way.

-

Nozomi: Mileena is worried you don’t care for her

Kitana: What!? I need to invite her over.

Nozomi: Better do it fast

---

Nozomi: Nyx wouldn’t hurt Shariah, Kollector.

Kollector: And you believe that?

Nozomi: I’ve witnessed that

-

Nozomi: My debts aren’t always of the monetary kind, Kollector.

Kollector: What do you mean by that?

Nozomi: It depends what they offer.

-

Nozomi: Look, whatever went on between you two is none of my business.

Kollector: Could you atleast talk to her for me?

Nozomi: Fine. But you owe me.

---

Nozomi: He is my dad in spirit

Kotal Kahn: Then who was your dad in birth?

Nozomi: Quan Chi.

-

Nozomi: If you must no, Shariah has made a full recovery

Kotal Kahn: I’m glad to hear this

Nozomi: So are several others

-

Nozomi: Do you still wanna see that card trick?

Kotal Kahn: I would actually.

Nozomi: Great! You won’t be disappointed!

---

Nozomi: Ok wise one! Then who would be a better match for me?

Kung Lao: Liu and I are still going over the list.

Nozomi: You two made a list!?

-

Nozomi: Does Jin want a magic trick done for his birthday?

Kung Lao: He said, and I quote, “If she could poof me up a boyfriend that would be great”

Nozomi: Unfortunately, I am not that talented.

-

Nozomi: I’ll miss you so much Lao

Kung Lao: Why do you have to leave?

Nozomi: I can’t stand being hurt anymore

---

Nozomi: You and Lao made a list!?

Liu Kang: Ah. Has he told you who’s on that list?

Nozomi: No, but now I wanna know.

-

Nozomi: Liu, how could I forget the little boy who insisted on holding my hand all the time?

Liu Kang: I really wish you hadn’t reminded me about that.

Nozomi: Why not? It was cute!

-

Nozomi: I’ll miss you a whole lot Liu.

Liu Kang: Please don’t go!

Nozomi: I have to protect myself somehow.

---

Nozomi: Good news! She’s made a full recovery!

Mileena: Then I’ll throw a celebration for her!

Nozomi: Be careful. She needs to take it easy.

-

Nozomi: Didn’t think you cared for his happiness

Mileena: Rain’s been a good friend.

Nozomi: Well color me shocked.

-

Nozomi: Have you been over to Outworld to see your sister?

Mileena: I’m scared she’ll send me away

Nozomi: She won’t. Trust me.

---

Nozomi: I may harbor her soul, but I am not Khaos!

Nightwolf: Deny as you might, she made her home in you.

Nozomi: I didn’t ask her to!

-

Nozomi: Bad things happen to me a lot, Nightwolf. It’s nothing new.

Nightwolf: Why are you so comfortable with it?

Nozomi: I’m not. That’s why I’m leaving!

-

Nozomi: Raiden is a good dad.

Nightwolf: He cares a lot about you.

Nozomi: I know he does.

---

Nozomi: Please. What is there for him to brag about?

Noob Saibot: Your ability to fully restore a life.

Nozomi: I forgot he was there for that.

-

Nozomi: There is a difference between rage and hate.

Noob Saibot: Not for Michiko.

Nozomi: Perhaps she hasn’t had the chance to fully express that.

-

Nozomi: I am aware where my cousin has chosen to stay.

Noob Saibot: So you’ll take over the Brotherhood of Shadow right?

Nozomi: I thought you wanted to do that.

---

Nozomi: Tell me, why does everyone forget that I am also Goddess of revenge?

Raiden: Cause we’re not used to that side of you.

Nozomi: There are a lot of sides to me you aren’t used to.

-

Nozomi: Trust me, Rain will be a good husband

Raiden: For his safety, he better be the best

Nozomi: Hey! Enough with threatening my fiance.

-

Nozomi: I will miss you the most, dad.

Raiden: I promise you, I will do a better job protecting you!

Nozomi: You’re Earthrealm’s protector dad. Not mine.

---

Nozomi: If you don’t want to come with me then maybe we can try long distance?

Rain: But my darling, I would be too hurt without you by my side.

Nozomi: Then join me! Please.

-

Nozomi: Yeah, I don’t trust Hotaru either. He might get stab happy again.

Rain: Then let me go with you Nozomi.

Nozomi: I don’t wanna risk your health my love.

-

Nozomi: Rain, I don’t want worshipers or followers.

Rain: But you deserve them.

Nozomi: Not really.

---

Nozomi: What impression do I give Hanzo?

Scorpion: You give off a kind and caring one Nozomi.

Nozomi: Didn’t think I did.

-

Nozomi: By that description you gave, I say you like Michiko too!

Scorpion: Ahem. No!

Nozomi: I see you blushing Hasashi.

-

Nozomi: I’m still mad at you for killing my dad!

Scorpion: But wasn’t he found hiding in the void?

Nozomi: You’re lucky he was!

---

Nozomi: Rain won’t hurt me Shang.

Shang Tsung: I will trust your word for now Nozomi.

Nozomi: And I thought we were friends.

-

Nozomi: But being elusive is like second nature to you.

Shang Tsung: Not with you my dear friend.

Nozomi: Have I had that great of an effect on you?

-

Nozomi: How could you help her!?

Shang Tsung: Nozomi please. I did not know the One Being had you.

Nozomi: But she did! And you helped her!

---

Nozomi: Touch the sword and I will take your soul!

Shao Kahn: So the little welp wants to follow in daddy’s footsteps?

Nozomi: Follow? I perfect steps not follow them, Shao.

-

Nozomi: Brainwashing someone isn’t loving them Shao!

Shao Kahn: And what would you know of love?

Nozomi: A lot fucking more than you!

-

Nozomi: First you snap Lao’s neck and now you wound Shariah?

Shao Kahn: Is the short one gonna do something about it?

Nozomi: I’m gonna kill you over and over again!

---

Nozomi: Surprisingly, not a lot of people are in my debt.

Sheeva: That is a relief to hear.

Nozomi: In fact I collected my last debt a few hours ago.

-

Nozomi: Good news! Shariah is fully healed!

Sheeva: Then we shall celebrate her recovery!

Nozomi: She does need to take it easy.

-

Nozomi: Is there anyone you want me to bring back?

Sheeva: I have healed from their deaths. I’m alright.

Nozomi: If you change your mind, you know where to find me.

---

Nozomi: I don’t think there will be a wedding

Sindel: By the gods, what happened?

Nozomi: Rain doesn’t want to come with and he doesn’t seem up for long distance

-

Nozomi: Shairah has healed completely!

Sindel: Good. Shao Kahn is still paying for what he done

Nozomi: Done and done!

-

Nozomi: Do me a favor, and don’t get corrupted again.

Sindel: Trust me. I am sticking to Edenia.

Nozomi: Good. Pulling you out of the corruption was a nightmare

---

Nozomi: Shariah is now fully healed.

Skarlet: Tanya and I thank you.

Nozomi: No need to thank me.

-

Nozomi: I’m taking you up on that offer!

Skarlet: Where is he?

Nozomi: Probably loitering around Raiden’s Sky Temple.

-

Nozomi: Consider us be-friended.

Skarlet: This is perfect!

Nozomi: Let’s start blood-bending!

---

Nozomi: I am not a sadist. I don’t enjoy torturing people.

Sonya: So just killing them?

Nozomi: Precisely.

-

Nozomi: I’m not sticking around for anyone, Blade.

Sonya: Why not?

Nozomi: I have been hurt too much.

-

Nozomi: There are a lot of things you don’t know about Kronika.

Sonya: I’m betting there’s a lot I don’t want to know.

Nozomi: According to mom, yeah.

---

Nozomi: She was still processing what happened.

Sub-Zero: The old grandmaster was a fool to allow Shen to train her.

Nozomi: Had he really not known what Shen was doing?

-

Nozomi: I’m a titan by origin of my birth Kuai.

Sub-Zero: Then you could’ve taken down Kronika!

Nozomi: Well I wasn’t able to!

---

Nozomi: I can’t risk being hurt again.

Shinnok: I promise you, I will up the guards in the Netherrealm.

Nozomi: I’m not staying.

-

Nozomi: Uncle Shinnok, Rain’s not gonna hurt me.

Shinnok: I have a torture room with his name if he does.

Nozomi: Uncle Shinnok!

-

Nozomi: If I don’t get to, tell aunt Charu I’ll miss her

Shinnok: This is like losing my sister all over again.

Nozomi: Hey, I’m not gonna be trapped anywhere.

---

Nozomi: Dad, I can’t stay.

Quan Chi: Isaac won’t hurt you again.

Nozomi: It’s not just Isaac!

-

Nozomi: I don’t think there’s gonna be a wedding.

Quan Chi: Ah so death is the flavor of cake Rain wants.

Nozomi: Dad!

-

Nozomi: I know seeing loved ones go is hard, but I’m not dying.

Quan Chi: But I’m afraid you will.

Nozomi: My heart’s not as bad as it was.

---

Nozomi: You can try, but you’ll die before you even reach me.

Hotaru: Don’t underestimate my tracking abilities, Nozomi.

Nozomi: I’m doubting your attentiveness Hotaru.

-

Nozomi: I still haven’t thanked you.

Hotaru: For what?

Nozomi: For helping Rain find me when you did.

-

Nozomi: If you make my cousin upset one more time, I’m taking your head.

Hotaru: Not if I take yours first!

Nozomi: Oh it’s on!

---

Nozomi: My sword is sharp too.

Reiko: I prefer your tongue.

Nozomi: Well you won’t be keeping yours!

-

Nozomi: Out!

Reiko: I didn’t even get a chance to speak.

Nozomi: I don’t care. Go!

-

Nozomi: You being told you were a blood God ain’t impressive.

Reiko: Aww darn.

Nozomi: Besides, what’s a God to a Titan?

---

Nozomi: My son. I am so sorry.

Meat: Why do you have to leave?

Nozomi: I can’t stand being hurt again.

-

Nozomi: You won’t get flesh. I will make sure nobody gives you any

Meat: You can’t do that if you leave.

Nozomi: I can’t heal if I stay.

-

Nozomi: Hey good news son. Shariah is fully healed.

Meat: Oh good. I was worried for my friend.

Nozomi: She was worried about you too.

@deepinthefog @yuvononik @merplderpl @tora-lotus @ls-double-spoiler @irrelevant-subjects @toomanyf4ndoms7 @starneko123 @loverofthewindgod @dontunderestimatemypoison @feistyfandomthings @harrissa-hoe @catornek @doodlewagonbug @calcium1790 @daddydestrey

[barnesandco]

Go for Gold

Bucky becomes seriously affected by an Olympic athlete during his time at the Summer Olympics in Tokyo, and makes a desperate attempt to get to know her better.

This is my entry for @allaboardthereadingrailroad​ ‘s #marveldiversitychallenge. My prompt was the song Swimming Pool Summer by Capital Cities.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Black!Reader

Warnings: Blushy Bucky lol.

A/N: Whitney, thank you so much for providing this opportunity to write characters we are not so familiar with, allowing us to expand our horizons and crucially, working to make this space more inclusive for people of color. It was an amazing initiative to take and I’m so glad I participated (albeit a little late -- sorry)

This is also a wishful glimpse into the Olympics we never got this year.

Tokyo is a cornucopia of sensory overstimulation, and for the first time in a long time, Bucky is glad for it. It’s like the Stark Expo raised to the power of ten, the bright lights of the city and its signs mingling with the bright jerseys worn by fans. The streets are packed with sound and celebration, and his only guide grounding him is the heat he feels along his right side, where Sam walks beside him.

Pressed together, shoulder-to-shoulder, his brother in arms is today a brother in merriment and sports enthusiasm, as they make their way to the swim hall for the next event on their list. The women’s 50 meter freestyle. Bucky feels like he’s floating, cheeks aching while he listens to Sam talk about childhood dares that forced him to brave the cold waters of the cleanest part of the Hudson he and his cousins could find. All the while, the beat of a Xhosa chant from a crowd of South Africans syncs with his heartbeat and he inhales deeper as they pass a samosa cart.

Bucky doesn’t mention working at the docks and witnessing kids decades before Sam complete the same challenges; it’s too grandpa-ish an anecdote. Not that Sam would really notice, not right now, at least. Captain America has fallen silent, his focus on the swim hall, big, brown eyes bright in the cerulean light reflected from the water below.

He snaps out of it, out of that youthful glee at another item crossed off the bucket list, as they sit down. “Hey, how are you feeling?” Sam asks, once they’ve settled down, and they have time to breathe for themselves, and not to inhale all the amazement that surrounds them.

Bucky smiles. “Couldn’t be better,” and that’s all he has time for before the swimmers are walking out and the crowd is cheering behind him and he is fixated on one, particular Olympian. Your posture encaptivates Bucky, because you stands like you are ready to dive. 

You enter the water like Bucky does his apartment, with a sigh of relief at being home. It is transfixing to see someone return to their element, and some egotistical part of him wonders if he looks anywhere near as ethereal as this swimmer. Only your head and shoulders are visible now, brown skin shimmering in the reflection of the water, and you tuck your swim cap tighter on your head the same way Bucky does his gloves before battle. Your face gleams with determination set in steel.

And then there is only quiet, and the gentle lapping of ripples against the pool walls, and everyone holds their breath. The starter pistol fires, and you’re off. Bucky’s eyes follow you and only you, your grace unparalleled by your lithe movements, like a knife through butter, and moments stretch into hours that are over all too soon.

But then Sam is screaming next to him. There’s something about a world record and the audience is on its feet behind him but he sees only you. You hoist yourself out of the pool, beaming brighter than the sun. A towel is placed around your shoulders and you laugh exuberantly when your coach whispers something in your ear as she hugs you. The sound imprints itself into his mind with the intensity of a magnesium flare, and with it, Bucky is a complete and total goner.

-----

He does not stop thinking about you. Can’t help it, even when he and Sam have attended two more events and he has had dinner and Sam has left for bed. Something tugs him to the water. 

The sun has long set and the velvet blanket of night has drawn itself over the sky, tucked neatly into the corners of the horizon where he can see Tokyo spilling over the edge of his view. The city’s size is doubled by the calm reflection he can see from Hinode Pier, and he finds himself sitting on a jetty, above water pitch black save for a cluster of fireflies nearby. 

There are steps behind him, and he tenses, more so when he sees the reflection in the water. It’s you, your posture and height unmistakable.

“Hi, mind if I join you?” You ask, and he stands to pretend he didn’t notice you earlier. The smile dancing like waves on your face tells him you’re not fooled, and he thinks the heat rising to his face surely won’t help, either. 

“Of course.” 

You sit down, and he follows, and the line holding your shoulders so tightly eases as your legs swing over the water. The fireflies look like fireworks -- magnesium flares -- in your eyes. An ease washes over you as you graze the bottom of your sneakers over the surface of the water.

“Congratulations,” Bucky says after a while, and you close your eyes and laugh, rub your eyelids with the heel of your palms.

“Thank you,” you say, removing your hands from your face, using them to gather your braids back and at your neck again, laughing again. “Sorry,” you say, shaking your head, and he wonders why. “I just can’t believe it. A world record.”

Your laughter is contagious and addictive, and Bucky tries to elicit more of it, toeing the line of your acquaintanceship delicately. “I was talking about the medals you won today, but yeah, congratulations with that, too.” It works. You smile, this time directly at him, and he can’t breathe with the full strength of your beauty directed right at him.

Tilting your head, you ask, “You watched me race? Were you rooting for me?” You joke back, but Bucky nods seriously as he considers your question.

“I wasn’t going to root for anyone because I don’t know the first thing about swimming, so it was as impressive as flying to me,” he begins, and thinks about how he really should be used to flying considering who his best friend is, “but I saw you in the 50 meter today and, well, I’ve always cheered for the winning team. Wasn’t going to change that now,” he says.

Your eyes flit between both of his, and the warmth emanating from you is enough to combat the chill of the night near the water. “What about not knowing anything about swimming? Are you willing to change that?” You ask and Bucky looks at the water below, and his face, intrepid, staring back in the dim light.

“Why not?” He says with a shrug, and you grin a starlight smile back at him, and then stand to pull a swim cap out of your hoodie before taking it off, leaving you in a sports t-shirt and yoga pants. The water splashes onto him as you dive off the jetty, and Bucky watches you giggle as you break the surface and come up for air, gesturing for him to join you.

The water is probably cold, but you’re in it, and he removes his windbreaker too, joining you more hesitantly. The waves welcome him, lapping over his t-shirt and he’s glad he’s wearing the synthetic skin today, so that you can be just two strangers, without the weight of your reputations tugging at you.

You cup your hands around your mouth as you paddle backwards and call, “Let’s just warm up,” and Bucky follows in a clumsy breaststroke, as you take off.

His breath is releasing in pants and the jetty is a thin line in the distance, his body warmer by the time you stop. There is no sand beach or wood pier here, only a small stretch of marshland. The cattails sway gently in a slow breeze behind you, and you look happier than you did in the pool, your eyes glimmering.

“You need to move your arms like this,” you say, and demonstrate steps that Bucky then mimics, but you shake your head and move closer. Your hands hold his arms gently, moulding his movements to look less like he is hacking at the water and more like he is pushing at it to propel himself forth. 

Voice low, as if imparting secrets, you speak softly in his ear and are kind in your corrections. Once satisfied with his technique, you ask for him to swim beside you, and begin to move back towards the jetty you came from. 

The air is calm, and then his stomach growls loudly, prompting another peal of laughter from you, as he laughs nervously. “Didn’t you have dinner?” You wonder.

“Guess the swimming worked up some more appetite.”

Treading water, your head and shoulders bob up and down, as do his, and a new affection blooms as each of your circular ripples meet. “You wanna go for a midnight snack?”  

He thinks about what has brought the two of you there, a restlessness, a soulful ache for something unnameable. The night has ended in a way he did not expect, but he is better for it, and hopes you are, too. Something is blooming, with all the soft elegance of cherry blossoms and the deep understanding of hearts resonating with each other. Something he wants to see grow further and take root. He needs to know what your favorite food is, what it took for you to get to where you are, what you like to do in your free time. 

Bucky wants to see more of you you, this version of you, the athlete away from the competition, the woman in her element, the teacher with a student, because he is drowning in all of you, so he could not be any happier to answer: “I’d love to,” and have you smile like the Pacific Ocean, wide and warm and welcoming, in response. 

[hacash]

Too Much Information

"I always imagined Big Folk’d be rather prudish about sex,” Pippin said. “After all, I imagined none of you do it very often, taking into account your obvious shortcomings.”

The Fellowship share. Rather too much. In which Gandalf is cagey, Merry and Pippin are shameless, and Boromir finds out more about the Fellowship's personal lives than he wanted to know.

[also available on Archive of our Own]

(based on this post; probably not to be taken too seriously)

-

“Posey Greenfields does not count.”

“Does so.”

“Does not.”

“How, may I ask, does she not count?”

“I saw you at that party, Pip, and you were soused off your face. Utterly crocked. I should say she took advantage of you, more than anything.”

“Took advantage? I was giving her the advantage, and very willingly too!”

Boromir eyed the bickering cousins with more trepidation than he might an orc’s nest. Trust me, Elrond had advised the day he’d arrived in Imlradris, you might hear them talking and think you wish to know the conversation. In these moments it is best to turn around and walk the other way.

Delicately he coughed, meeting Legolas’ eye. “Do I want to know?”

The elf grimaced. Owing to his renowned elvish hearing it seemed he had caught every word: but going by Legolas’ disturbed expression Boromir suspected this wasn’t necessarily a good thing. “No. No you don’t.”

Recklessly Boromir plunged on, approaching where Merry and Pippin were setting up their bedding for the night. “Gentlemen?”

Two twin beady gazes turned on him.

“Context, please?”

Ignoring Legolas’ muffled groan and face-palm Merry turned about cheerfully, eager for a new participant – or, as Boromir was beginning to suspect, victim. “Ah, yes! You see, to kill time Pippin and I were discussing some of our more pleasant encounters back home when life was simpler and remembering some of our most enjoyable companions – ”

“Sex stories,” Boromir repeated with dawning understanding, unable to keep the horror from his voice. “You were swapping sex stories.”

“Exactly! Only Pippin insisted on counting one time with Posey Greenfields when he’d gotten into his father’s best sherry – Michel Delving’s finest, it’ll turn you cross-eyed – and I was telling him that didn’t count because he was in no fit state to make a decent showing.”

Pippin was looking so proud of himself, it was almost indecent.

“But…I thought you were a child?” Boromir demanded.

“Excuse me? I’m a tweenager.”

“You’re a deviant is what you are, Pippin,” Merry said.

“I’m an unfettered adventurous soul, lacking in fear.”

“Lacking something is certainly the way Mrs Goodchild described you when she caught you and her Iris at it in the barn that time. Your breeches, for a start.”

“You’re not of age, is what I meant,” Boromir interrupted, before his brain started producing images his stomach couldn’t handle.

“Hobbits often start courting far before they’re of age, sir.” Taking pity on the unfortunate Man, Sam approached with cups of stewed nettle tea. “It’s common enough to start when you’re about sixteen, seventeen years old. Of course, it’s less common to wed before we’re of age – ”

“Thirty-three!” Boromir exclaimed proudly.

“Yes, sir, very well done,” Sam said in a soothing tone. “Which gives any courting couple a nice long while to get to know one another proper. Of course, there’s those as might not wish to wait that long – ” Merry did the universal sign for a swollen belly behind Sam’s back, “but to have your son or daughter wed afore they’ve passed twenty five – well, it’s considered a bit tacky, if you get my drift? Not allowing them a proper chance at life afore they settle down.”

“And by ‘proper chance of life’ we mean…”

“Studying a trade, spending time with friends, practicing how to keep house – ”

“Or in Merry’s case: learning how to do it in a rowboat without capsizing,” Pippin interjected.

“Ah, discussing Salvia Chubb, I believe? As I recall you told your mother you’d caught a fish so large it had pulled you clean from the boat, and that was why you were soaked through and Salvia’s shimmy all tangled up in duckweed.”

Boromir nearly inhaled a mouthful of his wine at Frodo’s sudden appearance. He might have imagined that the last thing the two younger hobbits would want when discussing their depravity was the audience of their elder cousin, but Frodo just regarded the conversation with exasperated amusement.

“You shouldn’t listen to these two, Boromir,” the Ringbearer advised. “They’ll blister your ears off and then some with their sordid tales. My uncle Saradoc would have been at his wits’ end with Merry, save that half his tricks Merry likely learned from him.”

“Hey now!” cried Merry. “I won’t have such slander repeated before friends. There was a time when Frodo Baggins was considered quite the rascal of Buckland, Boromir, and don’t you forget it. If I have ever engaged in pranks, scandal, inebriation or debauchery, chances are I learned it from him!”

“Debauchery!”

“Downright,” Merry repeated, “debauchery.”

Frodo drew himself up to his full height and glared at his unrepentant cousin through narrowed eyes. “I admit to overindulging on Uncle Sara’s port or filching a basket of mushrooms on occasion, Meriadoc, but I object to the implication that I have ever debauched in my life.”

Sam and Pippin’s gazes flickered back and forth between the other two as if watching a game of chequers; Boromir’s cooling nettle tea was abandoned at his feet. Even Legolas was listening intently. Merry merely snorted, leaning back on his haunches as if to prepare for the master stroke. Oh, he was going to enjoy this.

“Cousin, you remember when you left for Bag End I got your old room?”

“I do,” Frodo said stiffly, “and I fail to see the relevance.”

“Well, what you may not recall is you left plenty of odds and ends behind – mathoms mostly, old clothing and books and whathaveyou, and I found some rather interesting articles under your bed from your last years in Buckland. Some rather interesting journals, as it turns out.”

Seated beside Frodo, Legolas was lucky enough to get a good look at the Ringbearer’s face as the significance of this news dawned upon him. It was quite a spectacle, he had to admit. He’d never actually seen someone turn white before.

“You didn’t.”

Merry smirked. “It ended up proving quite an education when I was a tween, I must say.”

“…journals?” Boromir asked weakly.

“I forgot to mention: Melilot Brandybuck asked me to pass on her fondest and immense well wishes,” Merry continued wickedly, “for a couple of descriptive passages found in a particular entry – Wedmath, 1388, I believe? She was most appreciative, and I told her that the credit truly lay with you.”

Frodo’s face had bypassed white and was rapidly approaching green. “You didn’t.”

“Journals?” Pippin demanded. “What journals? Why haven’t I heard of any journals? You were courting Melilot at least ten years ago, why am I only hearing about this now?”

“Brandybuck?” Boromir asked. “But I thought Merry was – ”

“Third cousins,” Sam said wearily. “And if you let yourself get distracted by such matters, sir, you’ll never catch up.”

“And what descriptive passages could have Melilot Brandybuck still expressing her gratitude after ten years?”

“Oh, and Rory Goldworthy. Though I had to adapt some of the passages for Rory.”

“So what you’re saying is, half of Buckland knows Master Merry’s more – uh – adventurous activities can be put down to my master’s influence?” Sam said with a growing grin.

“And when were you planning on showing me these journals?”

“Meriadoc,” Frodo said slowly, “I’m afraid I’m going to have to kill you.”

“You should all know, our cousin Frodo is a most meticulous and,” Merry smirked, “inventive writer in all respects. I only hope he provides the additions to Bilbo’s book with the same attention to detail!”

Frodo’s reaction was not a happy one. With an uncharacteristically warlike yell he hurled himself at his cousin, fists flying. Although Merry was by far the sturdier of the two, Frodo’s height and indignation found the two evenly matched, and the pair were soon scuffling haplessly in Merry’s bedding. Sam rolled his eyes, and Pippin cheered.

“Well then, lads.” Gimli’s voice was gruff as he approached. He had been discussing their route south along the Misty Mountains with Gandalf and Aragorn, and now the three of them eyed the ensuing chaos with amusement. “What are we discussing?”

“Sex,” Pippin piped up cheerfully.

Legolas was pinching the bridge of his nose: the mumbled comments of ‘raspberry jam and the garden swing’ made Sam fairly certain he had picked up most of Merry and Pippin’s early conversation, and also fairly certain that he didn’t want to know more. Gimli gave a low chuckle, Aragorn raised an eyebrow, and Gandalf shook his head and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like ‘smut-minded hole-dwellers’.

“You started this?” Gimli asked Boromir.

“I asked for context.”

“Well, it’s your own damn fault then.”

“I’m fully aware of that,” Boromir said. “I may never be able to look Merry and Pippin in the eye ever again.”

“He’s embarrassed,” Sam supplied helpfully.

Boromir raised an eyebrow. He was not embarrassed by sex – he was forty years old, thank you very much, and a soldier to boot: quite accustomed to bawdy humour. He knew all the words to ‘The Istari and the Ninety-Nine Virgins’ and had laughed himself sick over every variation of the one about the widow’s lodging house on many occasions. But the thought of these hobbits, small as children, and the Ringbearer by all accounts…

“That’s rather rude,” Merry grumbled when he told them this. “You don’t see us saying ‘urgh, imagine those Men going at it when they’re so freakishly big and ancient looking’, do you?”

“Thank you very much,” Aragorn remarked dryly.

Legolas rolled his eyes. “After spending many days in the company of soldiers from Dale I rather thought all Men to be rather fixated on the subject.”

“Really? I always imagined Big Folk’d be rather prudish about sex,” Pippin said. “After all, I imagined none of you do it very often, taking into account your obvious shortcomings.”

There came from Aragorn the sounds of spluttering and rapid smoke inhalation; it appeared he’d lit his pipe at an inopportune moment. “I…I beg your pardon?!”

“Well, look at the size of you. I can imagine you might not be – well, no offence, but not wholly up to scratch.”

“I beg your pardon?”

Frodo steepled his fingers thoughtfully and fixed both Aragorn and Boromir with a calculating gaze that seemed to them a bit too intrigued to be decent. “Well, be fair Pippin. I can imagine size might be beneficial.”

“Maybe a bit.”

“A bit?” chorused the two Men. Gimli snorted.

“But, well, you’re all so big and clumsy,” Pippin, oblivious in the face of rapidly approaching death, continued blithely. “No dexterity. No lightness of touch. No imagination. And just like in everything else, if you think only size matters you’re not going to put too much thought into it, are you?”

Aragorn had gone a distinctly red shade. From across the fire Sam was could see Gandalf’s shoulders shaking with mirth.

“Is Aragorn alright?” Merry asked.

“Ignore him,” Gimli said, “he’s just reconsidering certain aspects of his romantic life for the past seventy years.”

“Bugger off.”

“Well, we’re not prudish,” Boromir said hastily – Gondor might have needed no king, but abandoning Aragorn to this particular line of questioning seemed like a step too far. “We just don’t feel the need to talk about it all the time.”

“We don’t all the time,” Pippin said. “Just in general conversation.”

“Do the women in your homeland not consider such conversation uncouth?” Legolas asked in bewilderment.

Sam snorted. “You want uncouth, sir, you should see young Myrtle Twofoot when she’s got into the summer punch. Three glasses and she’s inviting any lad in sight to untie her bloomer lacings with her teeth, and that’s a fact.”

“Good heavens,” said Boromir, looking rather pale.

“Oh, she always has the lad clean their teeth first, so as to keep everything hygienic sir. Very conscientious is young Myrtle.”

“So, unlike the rest of civilised society,” Legolas concluded, “hobbits would think nothing of taking their afternoon tea, or whatever you strange creatures call it, while listening to Merry regale them all with tales of – ”

“Being snowed in at Bag End with the Goodbody twins, a sturdy settee and the last of Mister Bilbo’s Old Winyards,” Sam supplied helpfully. “I remember your mother raising hell for that one when word got out, Mister Merry.”

Merry somehow managed to smirk and blush at the same time.

“Oh, honestly.” Aragorn looked particularly unsettled. “We don’t all need to hear about Merry’s…proclivities.”

“Well, you’re just a prude,” Merry sniffed.

“No, I’m just not interested in hearing about it.”

“Merry, leave him alone,” Frodo said. “I was in the room next to yours on that particular night, you may remember, and I took as little joy from hearing it then as Aragorn is now.”

Merry pulled a face.

“And to answer your question, Legolas: Merry is, as usual, grossly misrepresenting the Shire in his smut and yes you may well blush, Meriadoc – it’s hardly the sort of thing we discuss over tea and cakes on every occasion. However, I wouldn’t exactly call the subject taboo.”

“Hobbits,” Gandalf chuckled, “as in all respects, enjoy the comforts of life most openly. Why, I could tell tales of Bullroarer Took that might make your hair turn on end!”

“Any tips to pass on?” Pippin asked.

“None for your ears, young hobbit.”

“I’m surprised you’re so bashful, Aragorn,” Merry said. “I’d have thought you very experienced in that regard.”

“What? Why would I be?” Aragorn asked, genuinely baffled.

“Have you seen you?”

“I suppose I had offers – a few – ” Behind his back Legolas snorted and then hastily turned it into a cough, “but there was only ever Arwen.”

“So you’re only interested in girls,” Pippin said.

“No, I’m only interested in Arwen.”

“But what if a really beautiful woman offered – ”

“She did. Her name was Arwen.”

“I think it’s romantic,” said Sam.

“I think it’s idiotic,” Merry argued. “All of that,” he gestured to the ranger, who began blushing from the appraising stares coming from the rest of the Fellowship, “going to waste on just one lass. It’s not natural.”

“Meriadoc Brandybuck!” Frodo barked suddenly. “Apologise, young hobbit. You’re being very disrespectful of other folks’ habits. We can’t all manage to be such tramps as you.”

“Maybe we should change the subject,” Gandalf said dryly. “This has all been gone into quite enough.”

“Like Melilot Brandybuck, apparently,” Pippin remarked.

“Peregrin!”

“And,” Boromir continued, suicidally avoiding the glare being levelled at him by Gandalf, “lads going with lads: that is not uncommon, in your home?”

“Why not?” Pippin asked, genuinely surprised. “I wouldn’t have known how to so much as kiss if it weren’t for good old Folco Boffin.”

“What of Gondor, Boromir?” Legolas asked.

He tilted his head thoughtfully. “It is not considered shameful. But neither is it wholly approved of, in the higher houses of Gondor, for one man to make a life pledge with another. The noble families consider their heritage to be of great worth, and to forgo the chance of heirs and carrying on the line simply for the sake of affection is not always smiled upon.”

“Giving up your chance of love with some nice lad just to carry on some family name?” Sam said sadly. “Well, that’s right sad, that is.”

“I suppose,” said Boromir. Having understood that he was expected to carry on the line of Stewards since he was a child, he had never thought about it until now. “Of course, in a family with many sons or male cousins, it is less of a scandal. And out in the country or in the garrisons, of course, no-one pays it much mind.”

“Much the same as in the North,” Aragorn, who had now recovered, added. “Though within the Rangers, of course, men with men is more common. Less women, you see.”

“Well, it’s common enough in the Shire,” Merry said carelessly. “Pippin had quite the crush on Aragorn when we first met him in Bree.”

“Hoy!”

“Seeing you and Arwen together must have been like hitting puberty all over again,” Merry said with a snort.

This time it was Pippin who launched himself at Merry; while Aragorn mutely examined himself with the very real concern that he was giving off some sort of wrong signal.

“Don’t worry, Aragorn,” Frodo said soothingly. “After you made us march ten miles in the pouring rain, I suspect Pippin’s ardour wore off some.”

Pippin resurfaced long enough to flash Aragorn a cheeky grin that did not particularly set his mind at ease. “Indeed. And unlike Merry, I don’t feel the need to be bossed around by any of my romantic partners – oof!”

“Well, there’s a revelation I did not particularly need to hear,” Gimli muttered as the two cousins began wrestling again.

“Goes all red whenever Estella Bolger shoots him a sharp word, he does – argh!”

“I still can’t believe how open hobbits are,” Boromir muttered.

“Some of us’ve got a bit more class than the young masters,” Sam said, “begging their pardons.”

“Some of us’re just too shy for their own good.” Pippin, panting, had resurfaced. “When we return to the Shire I’m going to lock you and the lovely Rosie into the cellars of Crickhollow and not let you out until the windows shatter.”

“Master Pippin!”

“Sam, please tell me you don’t go around debauching with all and sundry like the rest of these rakes,” Legolas said.

“Oh, Sam plays his cards close to the chest,” said Merry with an admiring smirk. “He might still be a virgin or might have serviced every lass in the greater Westfarthing area; we’d never know.”

“I have not serviced every lass in the Westfarthing, Mister Merry.”

“Every lad then.”

“Now why would I be doing that, Mr Merry? I don’t know every lad in the Westfarthing!”

“That’s something you take into consideration?”

“Yes!” Sam exclaimed. Merry just looked bemused.

“If Sam is more selective than you, Merry, that’s hardly something to mock,” Frodo said disapprovingly.

“Who said I was mocking? I admire you, Sam, but honestly you were too bloody blind by half to realise what it was like back home. Scores of tweenagers hanging around Bag End garden just waiting for the weather to warm so you’d so much as roll up your sleeves.”

While Pippin fell about laughing and the rest of the Fellowship chuckled, Sam turned a horrified shade of red. “That…that never happened!”

“Why do you think Frodo had so many cousins from Buckland and Tookborough come to stay? Not for his sparkling conversation, surely; there’s only so long you can feign an interest in elvish poetry.”

“Sam,” Frodo said patiently, “one summer we had half the Shire stopping in at Bag End asking you for gardening tips. Did you honestly think Milo Chubb was that interested in keeping the greenfly off his begonias?”

“You knew about this, sir?”

“Knew? I was considering selling tickets.”

Sam’s head fell into his hands.

“Your courtship rituals are certainly…unlike anything I have experienced,” Gimli chuckled drolly. “Whatever happened to a finely-wrought ring or a poem in honour of your loved one?”

“I’ve had good luck with a bottle of sherry and a broom cupboard,” Merry said.

“Typically affection is expressed in our culture with flowers, dancing, and fine manners,” Frodo smirked, “though Merry and Pippin have always seen fit to buck with tradition. Naughty limericks and drunk come-ons are not acceptable.”

“They’re not?” This was news to Merry.

“They were considered terrible flirts back home.”

“Ah yes,” Pippin reminisced dreamily, “I remember the day Diamond North-Took called me a depraved, unconscionable back-alley scoundrel without the morals of a tom-cat.”

“I know, because you do have the morals of a tom-cat.”

“And I told her that, but do you think she’d listen?”

“Folk are expected to calm down as they leave their tweens behind, but as long as no lass gets into trouble or no-one’s tumbling with someone thought to be courting someone else…” Frodo gave a nimble shrug, lips twitching with the fond memories of days long since past. The rest of the Fellowship almost felt like they were intruding. “I myself used to…but then, I don’t know, my interest rather waned over the years…”

“Lost your puff, more like,” Merry scoffed. Without looking up Frodo kicked him in the kneecaps.

“The desire faded,” he said firmly. “Lovely memories and a fine time in my life – but I don’t see anything lacking now it’s over, either.”

Boromir was fascinated. He’d never imagined that one could talk so frankly about desire – or, for that matter, shrug off the lack of it as nothing more than the disappearance of a well-loved but outgrown coat. “I never saw the appeal,” he remarked, “on any account. Good luck to you all if you so choose to take your pleasures in such a fashion, but – honestly, it seems quite the overblown fuss to me. I can think of half a dozen things I’d prefer doing to sex, just off the top of my head.”

“No tales of debauchery from you then?” Merry asked sadly.

“Unlike our esteemed Ringbearer,” Boromir bowed to the blushing Frodo, “I have never debauched. I’m not sure I’d know where to begin.”

The hobbits shrugged carelessly. “Oh, there’s plenty in our homeland who are much the same,” Pippin said. “Cousin Bilbo’s a hundred and twenty-nine if he’s a day, and I don’t think he’s thought on sex once in all that time.”

“I beg to differ.”

“Oh, come off it. I’d have heard if Bilbo had some lost lady-love in the Shire, mark my words.”

“I said nothing about romance. I just said your assumptions that Bilbo was never interested in sex are inaccurate,” Frodo said, a rather haunted look on his face.

“What, and he told you that, did he?”

“I didn’t need to be told, Peregrin; the arrangements he had with the Widow Moley rather spoke for themselves.”

For a moment there was a distinct choking sound. Sam was very carefully examining the ground beneath his feet while Merry had stuffed his fist into his mouth, shaking with barely contained glee. The rest of the Fellowship exchanged glances. Pippin’s mouth had slowly fallen open: as Frodo continued to look pointedly at him he began to feel much the same way as one might when one bites into an apple and sees half a grub wriggling merrily away at him.

“Bilbo had companionship in his golden years?” Aragorn said in a somewhat strained voice. “That’s…that’s nice.”

“Every Sunday after tea,” Frodo said with the hollow tones more suited to an old soldier recounting the horrors of battles long since past, “and every Trewsday before luncheon; round to Bag End she’d come, regular as clockwork for nearly ten years. Why do you think I asked your mother for earmuffs every Yule?”

“But,” Boromir said, “I thought you told me you were only adopted by Bilbo when he was in his eighties?”

“That I did.”

Pippin finally made a sound, and that sound was: “Eeuargh…..”

“Well now, here we see again the difference in the races. For an elf to be in such a steady relationship at a mere eighty years of age would be considered rash indeed,” Legolas snickered, with the air of one stirring the pot with gleeful abandon.

“Cousin Bilbo is not an elf.”

“Quite,” Frodo said tartly. “Elves are beauteous creatures to behold, and walking in on him and the Widow Moley was not, repeat not, beauteous.”

Pippin made another strangled sound.

“Gimli,” Aragorn said hastily: the thought of old Bilbo, who he had long regarded as akin to a kindly old uncle, getting up to things was not sitting well, “care to add to the conversation?”

Gimli chuckled. “Alas, we are not quite as rambunctious as hobbits.” He leant back and puffed on his pipe. “In truth, romance is rare in my culture – admired well enough, but not prized highly, and many of my people never marry at all. Many do not desire it, being so engrossed in their crafts. There are dwarven songs of great loves and terrible loss that could put even an elvish lay to shame,” Legolas twitched, “but it is beauteous rare. What is romance compared to the joy of your work, the stonecraft and metalwork that outlasts the ages, the artistry of one’s hands?”

Pippin opened his mouth to say something about drilling, tunnelling and chisels, but was stopped when Sam, without any apparent change in his expression, took hold of his wrist and twisted his arm behind his back.

“Though Bilbo told me you were considered quite the catch in Erebor?” Frodo prompted.

Gimli shrugged off the complement modestly. “Dwarves who are so inclined towards affairs of the heart – and body – are rare, and so seen as something of a prize. And I flatter myself that I am no poor craftsman; no dwarf or dwarrowdam would scorn one who knows how to wield a hammer.”

“Pippin, shut up,” Boromir said hastily.

“So, you mean – women with women and men with – ”

“Dwarves with dwarves,” Gimli said firmly. He shrugged, and then gave a great booming laugh, smacking his hands down upon his knees. “Though we are a people of great enthusiasms in all respects. Those dwarves who do wed tend to have very successful – and very enjoyable – marriages. Dwarves may not have much interest in affairs of the bed, but when we do it we do it right.”

“Remind me to take a trip to the Blue Mountains when all this is over,” Merry muttered to Pippin with a lecherous grin.

“I don’t think you could handle it.”

“I could.”

“The size difference could be a problem.”

“I could cope with that.”

“The beards would itch.”

Merry paused, then nodded. “Fair point.”

Meanwhile Gimli was eyeing Legolas with wry amusement. “And I suppose your lot have their minds on higher things?”

Legolas scoffed. “Where do you think our children came from?”

“Be fair, sir,” said Sam. “After hearing all those great tales, you start to think elves are a little too dignified for matters such as that.”

“Thingol and Melian,” Frodo chipped in, “Beren and Luthien, Earendil and Elwing. Sam’s right, it’s difficult to imagine them all shagging.”

“Do you mind?” Aragorn asked, turning queasy. Most of these were his potential in-laws.

“Elves are always attracted to beauty,” Legolas’ brow raised, “of any and all kinds. But I can’t deny, compared to us mortals are more – ”

“Randy?” Pippin said.

“Horny?” Merry added.

“Lecherous goats?” Sam asked with a grin.

“Those weren’t quite the synonyms I was grasping for, but essentially yes.”

“Though to be fair,” Aragorn chipped in, “when you say beauty of any and all kinds, be careful not to misrepresent, Legolas. I recall you told me that your father had much to say when as a fauntling your admiration of the Lord Elrond grew a little too obvious to be overlooked.”

“Because he was a fellow?” Merry asked sympathetically.

“Because he is half-elven!” Legolas exclaimed. “Sweet Elbereth, I thought my father would never let it go.”

“Nice to know even elves have their hang-ups,” Sam said.

“But we remain more higher-minded about such things than mortals,” Legolas said.

“Not judging by some of those books of elven art in Lord Elrond’s library.”

“Books?” Merry perked up noticeably.

“Oh,” Gimli snorted, “if it’s art it doesn’t count.”

“I don’t care how many plinths and urns they include, I still use the term art advisedly.”

“What books? Why weren’t they shared?”

“Maybe Frodo’s journals would find a place there,” Legolas said with a smirk. Frodo groaned again.

“Well, this has been most informative,” Aragorn said. “If we get attacked by a marauding band of orcs in the middle of the night it’s pleasant to think we’ll at least have Frodo and Boromir to defend us, for it seems half this Fellowship will be too randy to even think of our defence. I think that clears up every culture represented here, does it not?”

They paused, mulling it over. Then Frodo said, in a particularly thoughtful tone: “Well, not quite every culture…”

As one – warily, and as if drawn by unspeakable horror – the Fellowship turned to look at Gandalf, who had remained uncharacteristically quiet throughout this debate. He puffed contentedly on his pipe and simply looked back at them with eyebrow raised, daring them to ask.

Pippin opened his mouth eagerly, and then without preamble was punched right in the stomach by Merry.

Later, when they were all asleep and Legolas had taken the first watch, Pippin rolled onto his back and sighed thoughtfully. “I wish we hadn’t gone into all that now, you know? I feel hellishly homesick.”

His cousin patted him on the shoulder. “We’ll be home soon, Pip.”

“I hope so – I want to be back in the Shire. It’s a terrible thing to think of, never going back. Why, I might never have Diamond cast aspersions on my honour ever again!”

“I shouldn’t worry about it. I have no doubt she’ll be denying the very existence of your honour the minute we get back.”

Pippin perked up. “You think so?”

“I’m sure of it.” Merry tucked an arm behind his head. “Funny to think of, isn’t it, old Gandalf? Though I suppose he doesn’t go in much for romance - wizards probably have too much to think about, what with their great works and all.”

“And their staffs.”

“Yes Pip.”

“It must take a lot of maintaining, a mighty staff such as that.”

“Good night, Pippin.”

“And another thing – ”

“Pip?”

“Yes?”

“I can’t help but think you’re working your way up to a dirty joke about a wizard’s staff. I’d rather you didn’t, if it’s all the same to you.”

[iamtrebleclefstories]

The Little Bit of Hope I Cling To - Part 4

Izzie goes to Grey Sloan in hopes of seeing Bailey, Meredith, or Alex. She meets Dr. Karev instead. 

the end of the road

Part 4

——————

The months following were smooth sailing, until they weren’t. Jo was about seven months in her pregnancy when it seemed like everything had gone to shit. Izzie got sick again and was back in a hospital bed undergoing multiple treatments and would be undergoing a resection for new mets that appeared along her small intestine.

Everything had been going so well. Izzie had been hired by Alex as a full time neurosurgeon at Grey Sloan, Geo was thriving in his school and enjoying have “cousins” to play with, even Piper—the damn dog—was happy.

That’s why Jo was so pissed. For months, she’d been working tirelessly on her fellowship research to find a breakthrough that could maybe save Izzie’s life and stop the spread of her cancer. Finding out that the cancer was back was like a punch in the gut for all the time Jo had spent trying to come up with a solution. It was made increasingly difficult by the fact that Jo had become friends of sorts with her husband’s ex-wife. They had forged a friendship from the most unexpected of circumstances and it was one that Jo was grateful for.

Jo’s impending motherhood didn’t help the situation either. She knew that she’d be going on maternity leave in a few months, but what would that mean for Izzie? Jo couldn’t just stop now. Not when Izzie needed her the most.

She’d been sitting in the attending’s lounge with her head in her hands when she heard someone shuffle through the door.

“Hey.”

Jo looked up to find Link standing in the doorway. She gave him a small smile, “Hey.”

“You okay?”

“Nope,” Jo laughed dryly. “I’m stressed and tired and my feet hurt and I just need to figure out this medical breakthrough so that a woman that I’ve grown to care about doesn’t die.”

“So... just another Thursday, right?” Link quipped sarcastically. He sat down next to Jo and put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Look, I know you feel like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders, but it’s not all on just you. Whether you figure it out or not, it doesn’t make you any less of a good doctor. It doesn’t mean that you didn’t try your hardest. You are going to run yourself to the ground if you keep going at the rate you’re going, and I know that can’t be good for the baby.”

Jo let a tear slide down her cheek, “I know... I just wish there was something more I could do. I’m running out of options. She’s my patient and it’s my job to help her, but she’s also become the most unlikely friend. I just... I don’t want her to die.”

“No one wants her to die. But if she does, it won’t be your fault. It won’t be because you didn’t try hard enough. It’ll be because she had cancer and try as we might, sometimes the cancer wins. Regardless of who wins, you have given her time. Time she wouldn’t have had if she never would came to this hospital looking for old friends and instead stumbling upon you. She gets time and a chance to fight because of you. Don’t forget that,” Link pulled Jo in for a sideways hug. “Now, dry up those tears and go to her room and tell her what’s next in your plan to try to save her life.”

Jo chuckled softly, “Thank you.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” Link shrugged. “Seriously though, you’re gonna wanna wipe your face. You’ve got some mascara running down your face.”

“Shut up,” Jo rolled her eyes and stood to look in the mirror. Yikes. She did look pretty wrecked. She grabbed a tissue from the box on the coffee table and began to blot her face.

Satisfied with her appearance, Jo said goodbye to Link and made her way down to Izzie’s hospital room. As she approached, she saw Alex with Geo on his lap and Meredith talking to Izzie as she knitted a scarf. Smiling, Jo knocked on the door as she walked in, “Hey. I see you have some company.”

“Jo! We were just talking about you—oh my goodness... your belly looks absolutely precious today,” Izzie beamed brightly.

“Thank you,” Jo nodded gratefully and looked over at Alex who was staring at her with love in his eyes.

“Oh! You see, that’s the look. The one we were talking about,” Meredith pointed at Alex.

“What look?” Jo scrunched her face.

“The lovey-dovey look Alex gets on his face anytime you walk into the room. It’s like he worships the ground you walk on,” Izzie teased, a wide grin on her face.

“Yup,” Meredith nodded. “The look of complete and utter adoration.”

Geo looked in between Jo and Alex briefly before agreeing, “Uncle Alex looks at you like you’re the most pwetty thing ever to exist!”

“That’s because she is,” Alex ruffled Geo’s hair, causing the young boy to erupt into a fit of giggles. He looked up at Jo again, “How are you feeling?”

“Good... a bit tired and Link may have just witnessed me have a hormonal break down in the lounge, but mostly good,” Jo ran a hand over her swollen stomach. “Baby is kicking a lot today.”

“Can I feel?” Geo asked excitedly, jumping up from his spot on Alex’s lap. “Pwetty please?”

“Sure,” Jo smiled at the boy and guided his little hand up to where the baby’s feet were. “You feel that thump? That’s the baby.”

“Woah,” Geo’s eyes widened in wonder. “This is so cool!”

“It is pretty cool isn’t it?” Jo winked at him. “What’s even cooler is that in a couple months, the baby will be here and we’ll get to hold and cuddle him or her all day long.”

“I can’t wait to have a baby cousin,” Geo looked over at Izzie. “It’s something happy and we need all the happy so mommy can get better.”

“You are so right, Geo. A big part of your mommy’s recovery is going to depend on her being very strong. Happiness gives us something to hope for and it makes us oh so very strong,” Jo replied.

The three other adults watched the scene unfold with smiles on their faces. Izzie turned to Jo, “You are going to be a wonderful mother. I can tell.”

“Thank you,” Jo reached over and squeezed one of Izzie’s hands. “I wanted to come in and tell you that I’m actively making plans for what to do next. Right now, surgery is still our best option, but I’m doing everything in my power to figure out something else. Until then, you’ll continue with the IL-2 treatments to shrinks those mets down as much as possible. I want to do the resection in a week from today.”

“Sounds good,” Izzie nodded. “Enough about me, someone tell me something happy or funny to help me distract myself from the fact that I’m stuck here while everyone else is performing surgery. Ooh! Like have you guys figured out a name yet?”

“Not yet,” Alex shook his head. “We haven’t really had a chance to sit down and talk about names. Hell, we don’t even know if it’s a boy or a girl.”

That was true. Originally, Jo and Alex were going to find out the sex of the baby, but at the last minute chose to wait and be surprised. It was exciting and made it even more fun when people tried to place their bets on the sex of the baby.

“You better hope for your sake it’s a boy, because if you have a little girl who looks like Jo, that’s it. You’re a goner,” Meredith smirked

“Oh I can see it now,” Izzie laughed. “Alex freaking out because she’s going out on date when she sixteen.”

Alex scowled, “Shut up. We’re no where close to that so we’re not even going to think about it.”

“You see? He’s going to have a complete meltdown if that baby is a girl,” Meredith pointed at Jo’s bump. “What do you think it is Jo?”

“Honestly, I haves to clue. It’s changes every day. Today I’m feeling boy, but I’m a couple hours from now I might think it’s a girl.”

“Well, if you guys decide to go with the theme of naming your babies after a loved one, just remember that no one has named a baby after me yet,” Meredith grinned slyly.

“Shut up,” Alex threw a paper cup in Meredith’s direction, causing the three women to laugh.

***

“Helen, I swear I’m fine,” Jo insisted as she walked into the hospital, her mother in law trailing behind her.

“No you are not,” Helen frowned. “I know that I’m not entirely mentally stable, but Jo, I gave birth to three children. I know what labor looks like. You are having contractions.”

“They’re Braxton Hicks,” Jo tried to explain. “Besides, I am only thirty five weeks. I have a whole month before the baby is supposed to be born. I haven’t even gone on maternity leave yet.”

“Now I see why Alex called me,” Helen muttered under her breath. “Okay, fine. Maybe you aren’t in labor but you need to slow down.”

“Trust me, Helen, I would love to, but I can’t. I have patients to take care of and my research. I can’t afford to stop now. Not when I’m on the brink of something that could save many lives. Not when Izzie Stevens is finally getting discharged again today,” Jo said as Helen followed her into the attendings lounge.

Truthfully, Jo was in pain. She’d been having contractions ever since four in the morning, but did her best to ignore it. She was tough. She could handle a little pain and discomfort. It wasn’t time yet.

“Wait, is this the ex-wife Izzie Stevens?” Helen made a face at the information, while Jo changed into her scrubs. “Alex mentioned that his ex-wife was here getting treatment. You’re her doctor?”

“Yes,” Jo nodded as she pulled on the scrub top and fluffed her hair out.

“You are a saint,” Helen shook her head.

“She’s really not that bad,” Jo turned to Helen. “I’m going to round on her right now if you want to join me.”

“Might as well,” Helen shrugged. “I promised Alex I’d stay with you today.”

“Alex needs to calm down. Worrying like that is just going to give him more gray hair than what he already has. I am fine. The baby is fine,” Jo walked out the lounge and into the hallway in the direction of Izzie’s room.

Just as they were about to walk into Izzie’s room, Jo was hit by a powerful contraction. She took a deep breath and grabbed onto the doorway, exhaling in pain. She shook her head and proceeded into the room.

“Hey Izzie,” Jo greeted and smiled when she saw Geo. “Hello to you, too Geo. Aren’t you supposed to be in school?”

“Yes he is, but mommy decided to let him skip because she’s leaving the hospital today,” Izzie grinned.

“That’s right! I checked all of your levels and your most recent scans, and I feel very good about discharging you today,” Jo shared the good news. She turned and motioned for Helen to walk in, ignoring another contraction. “Iz! This is Alex’s mom, Helen Karev.”

“Hi,” Helen gave Izzie a wary smile.

“Oh! Hi, Mrs. Karev, it’s so nice to meet you,” Izzie shook Helen’s hand. She looked over at Jo. “I didn’t know that he introduced you to his mom.”

“Yeah, we met just a couple weeks before the wedding. Went out to Iowa to visit,” Jo recounted. “Alex called her and flew her out here to be the pregnancy police.”

“He did not ask me to be the pregnancy police,” Helen rolled her eyes. He’d mentioned that your due date was approaching soon and I told him that I wanted to be here to see you before you gave birth, so he came to Iowa and flew out here with me. He said he’d do the same once the baby was born. But it looks to me like he won’t have to make the second trip because you are having contractions every three minutes.”

Jo’s eyes widened as she realized that her mother-in-law had been measuring the time between her contractions, “They’re three minutes apart? They’re coming steady?”

“Yes, honey. Like I said ever since we left the house, you are in labor,” Helen reiterated and placed a hand on Jo’s shoulder. “You need to cancel the rest of your day.”

“No, no, no. I am not having this baby right now,” Jo shook her head stubbornly. “It’s two early. He or she has still got to cook for five more weeks. Their lungs still need a few more weeks to develop, they don’t have enough body fat to regulate temperature yet, and they won’t be strong enough to breastfeed. So, this baby is staying inside.”

“Um... Jo,” Izzie called out. “You’re bleeding.”

“I’m what?” Jo looked down to see a dark streak running down the leg of her scrub pants. She clutched her stomach in pain again. “Oh, crap. Call Alex and Meredith.”

“Geo, run to the nurses station and tell them that we need a wheel chair for Dr. Jo and that they need to page Uncle Alex right away. It’s an emergency,” Izzie instructed her son, who nodded and ran out into the hall. She carefully stood up from her bed and walked over to where Jo was leaning against the wall. “Okay, you’re going to be fine. Jo, how about you let me feel your belly?”

Izzie felt around for a minute before scrunching her eyes in concern, “Alright, keep in mind that I am a neurosurgeon and I’m not exactly sure that this is what’s going on, but I think your placenta ruptured. There shouldn’t be this much blood.”

“Is there anything I can do?” Helen asked worriedly.

“Just hold her up while I find Geo with the wheelchair,” Izzie rushed out of the room and found her son walking next to a nurse strolling a wheelchair. “Did you page Alex Karev?”

“Yes,” the nurse nodded.

“Okay, you also need to page OB and Meredith Grey. I think Jo’s experiencing placental abruption and she may need to undergo a crash C-section.”

“I’m on it.”

***

The following minutes were a frenzy of activity as Alex—who’d been elbow deep in a kid’s body cavity—was notified of his wife going into preterm labor. He got tagged out by Bailey and ran out to find Meredith standing outside the OR board, trying to figure out which OR they’d taken Jo to.

When they got to OR 2, both Meredith and Alex were happy to find that Jo was not alone. Standing there holding her hand was Izzie, who was muttering soothing words to her, “Everything is going great so far. You are doing good, the baby is okay, and Alex is on his way.”

“I’m here!” Alex announced as he came up beside Jo and placed a kiss on her forehead. “Hey, I’m here.”

“Oh thank God,” Jo breathed out a sigh of relief. “This wasn’t the plan. God, Alex this wasn’t the plan.”

“When the hell have our lives ever gone to plan?” Alex chuckled light. “It’s okay, because we caught in time and in a few minutes we’re going to have a beautiful baby.”

“Where’s Meredith?” Jo called out.

“I’m right here Jo,” Meredith walked up to where Izzie had been sitting my Jo’s head. “We got this, thank you.”

“Oh. Yeah... no problem,” suddenly, Izzie felt very out of place. For the first time in the months since she’d returned to Seattle, she felt like an outsider looking in. “Okay. I’m going to go sit with your mom, Alex. Keep her some company.”

“Thank you.”

***

A little over an hour had passed when Meredith finally came out to the waiting room on the Labor & Delivery floor. She wore a bright smile on her face, “Mom and baby are just fine. There was some bleeding but we got that under control and Alex stood over the peds fellow’s shoulder making sure that the baby was fine.”

“Oh thank God,” Izzie let out a sigh of relief. “They’re both okay?”

“Yes,” Meredith nodded. “The baby’s lungs are fully developed. She might have to stay in an incubator a couple nights to regulate her body temperature, but she’s healthy.”

“Did you say she?” Helen asked.

“I did. It’s a girl.”

Izzie laughed, “Oh my God. I knew it! Please tell me she looks exactly like Jo.”

“She’s a carbon copy,” Meredith joined Izzie’s laughter. “I would’ve thought Jo’s cloned herself if it weren’t for obvious mop of hair on her head that definitely came from Alex.”

“Can we go see them?” Geo pulled on Meredith’s scrubs. “Pleaseeeeee!”

“Yes, you can go see them. That’s why I came out to get you,” Meredith extended her hand out to the little boy. “Come on, follow me.”

They walked down the halls of L&D until they finally found themselves outside a room. Somewhere along the way, Amelia, Link, and Bailey had joined them. Meredith knocked on the door before walking in, “I brought some visitors.”

Jo and Alex looked up from the tiny pink bundle in their arms to see their friends—their family walk into the room. Alex grinned widely as he held his daughter in his arms and stood up to greet everyone. He was jittering with excitement, “Dude, I’m a dad!”

The room erupted into laughter. Amelia chuckled, “Yeah we know.”

There was a shuffling by the doorway as someone pushed their way through, “I’m here! I was in surgery. Did I miss it?”

Maggie burst through the door eyes wide, struggling to catch her breath, “Oh my God. It’s a girl!”

“Yes, it’s a girl,” Jo sighed dreamily, very clearly in love with the child in her husband’s arms.

“She’s absolutely beautiful,” Helen fawned over the small child. “I have a granddaughter!”

“Well? Are you going to tell us her name?” Bailey asked expectantly.

Alex and Jo exchanged a look before answering simultaneously, “Taylor Joy Karev.”

“TJ for short,” Jo added.

Izzie watched as everyone—her son included—took their turns meeting and holding the precious little newborn. It was a sweet moment, one that she thought she’d never get to see. It was... odd, seeing her ex-husband and his wife welcome their child into the world. It was odd being a part of the process. It was odd that they let her in after the history between her and Alex.

Jo must’ve noticed Izzie’s detached expression because soon, Izzie was being pulled out of her reverie by Jo’s concerned voice, “Izzie, are you okay?”

“I should be the one asking you that,” Izzie winked. “You scared me a little there. But of course Taylor had to have a dramatic entrance into the world, she’s a Karev after all. Already like her father in that way.”

“She’s been in this world for two hours and she already has him wrapped around her little finger,” Jo mused quietly, looking at her husband helping the Geo and the other kids—who’d been brought over from school—hold their newest cousin. “I don’t blame him, though... I didn’t think I could love anyone this much. I didn’t think I’d ever love anyone more than I love Alex, but this little girl... she’s everything. Absolutely everything.”

“I know exactly how you feel,” Izzie sat down on the edge of Jo’s bed. “When I saw Geo for the first time, my heart cracked wide open. It didn’t matter that I hadn’t given birth to him. I knew he was mine and I was his. Not a day goes by where I’m not grateful for every second I get to spend with him. Especially, since my cancer returned.”

Izzie paused and thought carefully about her next words, “I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you. I wouldn’t alive right now. But I also, wouldn’t be here in this room, surrounded by friends watching my ex-husband hold his newborn daughter if it weren’t for you. You have helped me mend broken relationships and have given me a community again. And that’s all because of you. God knows they wouldn’t be as welcoming to me if it weren’t for your genuine care and compassion. So thank you, for giving me life back.”

About halfway through Izzie’s short speech, Jo felt a couple tears slip her eyes. She tried to wave it off as the hormones, “You’re welcome. Thank you for staying with me until TJ was born.”

“It was my pleasure and honor,” Izzie squeezed Jo’s hand lightly, marveling at the shift in roles. For the first time, Jo was in the hospital bed and Izzie was standing about it. “It’s weird seeing you in a hospital gown instead for scrubs.”

“It’s weird being in a hospital gown,” Jo answered. She observed Izzie for a minute. “Are you okay? You got discharged today and instead ended up getting me to an OR in time so that I didn’t lose too much blood.”

“I’m good. Honestly, I feel really good,” Izzie assured. “I know I’m not better yet and I know that I’ve still got to fight, but things like these... things like these remind me that I have so much to fight for. I want this. I want to be here and watch TJ grow. I want to see Zola, Bailey, and Ellis grow. I want to see my son grow and I want to have another kid. I want to marry someone that looks at me the way Alex looks at you, or Ben Warren looks at Bailey. So as long as I have left, I’m gonna keep fighting for those things.”

Alex—who’d heard the tail end of the conversation between the two women—walked up with baby Taylor resting comfortably in his embrace, “And we’re going to help you do that.”

Jo nodded in confirmation, “Anything you need, we’re here.”

“Thanks,” Izzie smiled and finally turned her attention to the small child. “Okay, it’s Auntie Izzie’s turn to hold this little one. Everyone else got a turn except for me.”

Alex handed the baby over and Izzie grinned widely when she finally got a good look at the little girl, “Oh, Alex. You are in so much trouble.”

“Why?” Alex scrunched his face in question.

“Because she’s gorgeous and looks exactly like her mother. And with the parents she has—ha, I cannot wait to see what kind of trouble she gets herself into,” Izzie laughed. “Let’s just pray she doesn’t take after you and your... wild side.”

“Oh God, no. Nope,” Alex shook his head. “She’s not allowed to even look at a boy until she’s thirty.”

“Okay,” Jo snorted in amusement. “You’re just terrified because now you finally realized that you ten years ago, was every father’s worst nightmare.”

“God, I’m gonna pay for that, aren’t I? This right here, this little girl is karma for all of the terrible things I did throughout the years,” Alex’s eyes were wide in terror.

“Yup,” Izzie hummed and cradled the little one closer. “I’m happy for you guys. Truly.”

“Thank you,” Alex’s face curved up into a crooked smile. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“You’re going to stick around right? You’re not leaving Seattle or anything?” Jo asked.

“I’m sticking around,” Izzie took a deep breath. “Years ago, I told Mer that this was just a place I worked, but I was wrong. This is home. This is family."

***

Five Years Later

“TJ! Get your butt in here right now!” Jo yelled as she tripped on a pile of toys in the living room. She waited until she heard the pitter-patter of feet signaling her daughter’s appearance. “What have I said about leaving these on the floor. Someone can get hurt.”

“Sorry mommy!” TJ’s little eyes widened in apology.

“It’s okay baby, just pick them up when we get home later. Right now we have to go. We’re going to be late,” Jo reached out her hand and led her daughter out the house.

When they reached the car, she saw Alex fiddling around in the backseat. Jo smirked, “Having some trouble there?”

“I can’t get this stupid seat belt over her dress,” Alex grumbled. “Was this really necessary?”

“You know how Izzie is. Everything has to be perfect. Here let me do it,” Jo chuckled as she pushed Alex aside to look at the three year old girl that Alex was struggling to strap in. “Hi, Bella Mae. You look so beautiful. Mommy is going to help you get all strapped in because Daddy is having some issues.”

“Daddy habbin’ issues,” Bella giggled quietly. “I wike my dwess.”

“I like your dress too,” Jo complimented the little girl. Jo smoothed down her daughter’s dress as she buckled her into the car seat. Bella was her goofy, energetic kid. Rather than being a carbon copy of her mother like Taylor was, Bella took after the Karev side. Alex constantly talked about how Bella reminded him of his sister, Amber when she was a little girl. Bella and Alex had the same big brownish-greenish eyes and crooked grins. “Alright, Bells. You are all set.”

“Tank you, mommy!”

“You’re welcome,” Jo kissed the little girl’s forehead.

Finally, Jo turned over to the little man that was sitting in between his two sisters. Wyatt Alexander Karev was a cubby two year old that was the perfect blend of both Jo and Alex. It was hard to determine where features of one parent ended and the other began.

Wyatt gave Jo a cheesy smile, “Mama!”

“Hi munchkin! You look so handsome,” Jo ruffled his little curls.

“Tanks mama!”

“You ready?” Alex asked as he rounded the car.

“Yeah. Let’s go,” Jo nodded and thanked Alex as he opened the door for her and helped her inside the car.

When they arrived to the venue, Alex and Jo hurried to take the kids out of the car and walk in the direction they had been told. Standing outside the room, Jo knocked on the door.

“Come in!”

The family of five walked in to see Izzie standing in an ivory gown with a giant smile on her face, “Oh thank God you’re here. I was worried you’d be late.”

“I can’t be late, I’m the maid of honor,” Jo pulled Izzie into a hug. “You look amazing. Decker isn’t going to know what hit him when he sees you.”

“Jo’s right. You look hot, Iz,” Alex grinned widely. “You’ve still got it.”

Izzie rolled her eyes, “Thank you.” She let out a shaky breath. “I’m kind of nervous.”

“Do you want to make a run for it?” Alex asked. “I’ll tell Mer to gear up the getaway car. We’ll leave the kids with Maggie and Amelia and the the four of us will be out of here before anyone notices.”

“No I don’t want to make a run for it. Can’t a girl be nervous? Weren’t you nervous to get married?” Izzie made a face.

“Nope,” Alex shook his head.

“Seriously? You didn’t get nervous? Not even when you married me?” Izzie’s face was painted with disbelief.

“When I married you, it was so last minute, I didn’t have time to be nervous. And when I married Jo, I’d never been more sure of anything in my life. Also, our wedding day was a mess and we had sex in a shed next to corpse and practically missed the entire thing,” Alex answered simply.

“Fair enough.”

“Just take a deep breath. You’ll be fine,” Jo placed a comforting hand on Izzie’s shoulder. “You two love each other and Decker adores Geo and Gabe.”

“Speak of the little devils,” Izzie chuckled as her sons barged into the bridal suite.

Geo had grown a lot in the past five years. At eleven years old, the boy was almost as tall as Izzie. His brown hair darkened a bit and started to curl slightly. He looked more and more grown up everyday.

Gabe had been adopted about four years ago at the age of three. Like Zola, Gabe had come to Grey Sloan for a surgical procedure as a toddler through the African exchange program that Alex had spearheaded. Gabe had needed surgery for a cardiac defect that Maggie had operated on. When Izzie heard that one of the little boys from the program was an orphan, she went to go meet him for herself and fell in love. The now seven year old was a boundless spring of energy that brought so much light and laughter into their lives.

“Mom!” The two boys gasped when they saw their mom standing in her dress. “You look so pretty!”

“She does, doesn’t she?” Jo smiled. “It’s almost time to start so you guys need to go find Decker and get ready, okay?”

The young boys gave their mom a hug and another compliment before making their way out the room. With a couple minutes left before the ceremony started, Izzie took another deep breath.

Meredith walked into the suite, “Okay. Our flower girls, Ellis, TJ, and Bella are ready. The ring bearers are with Decker and the groomsmen. The guests are all here. The priest is just waiting on you.”

“Let’s get you married,” Jo grinned excitedly and followed Meredith as she led the flower girls to the aisle.

Finally, it was just Izzie and Alex left, waiting outside the double doors for their turn to enter. Izzie bit her lip nervously, “Are you sure this isn’t weird? You walking me down the aisle? I mean you’ve seen me naked.”

“You know how many people I’ve seen naked?” Alex huffed a laugh. He extended his arm for Izzie to take. “No. It’s not weird. The past few years have been some of the best of my life. And not just because I married Jo and had three kids. Having you back has been great. You’ve become family. I’m so excited for you to get married and I feel honored that I get to be the one who walks you down the aisle. So, just shut up and start walking before I have to kick you down the aisle.”

And with that, Izzie realized that it had finally come full circle. Five years ago, she’d returned to Seattle with very little hope to cling to. Today, she had a family, a support system that was celebrating her as she finally got her happy ending. It might seem strange or unconventional to others, but she wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

The end.

——————————————————————————

Hi guys! I hope you enjoyed the final part of this series. I loved writing this story. I'll confess, Izzie Stevens has never been one of my favorite characters, but writing this redemption arc and beautiful ending for her character, while preserving jolex is something that I wish we would've seen in canon. Let me know what you thought of this and don't hesitate to follow me on Tumblr @iamtrebleclefstories for more content!

[twoidiotwriters1]

Young Blood V -(PB/WITS Crossover)

A/N: Last part! We had so much fun writing this, we might come back to this baby in the future :) -Val & Danny

Words: 2,700

Series’ Masterlist

Previous Chapter

Summer 1996

“So, Hermione,” Sirius handed her a drink, he was grinning widely. “Tell us all about Percy back at school, is he a good boyfriend?”

“Dad,” Percy started, Hermione chuckled.

“He’s really nice, yes. My parents want to ask all of you to my Dad’s birthday in two weeks, they’re looking forward to meeting you.”

“Oh, wanting to meet the boyfriend’s parents already?” Persephone raised a brow. “We have to be on our best behaviour Sirius, they’re paying half of the things for their wedding!”

“Mum!” Percy frowned, trying to stand up to leave the room. “Let’s go, Hermione, it’s getting late…”

“Thought Matthew was going to take you to the movies?” Sirius raised a brow.

“I rather walk than stay here and be humiliated in front of my girlfriend,” The young wizard replied. “Honestly, you guys don’t act like this with Lyra, this is ridiculous…”

“Lyra’s an angel,” Sirius said with an accusing finger. “She’s never done anything wrong in her life and she’ll stay single until she’s forty.”

“The fact that she’s never been in detention doesn’t mean she’s an angel,” Percy scoffed. “And I saw her flirting with a sixth-year Slytherin the last term.”

“She what?” Sirius straightened in his place.

The doorbell rang and Percy was quick to stand up and answer it, Harry walked in looking rather anxious.

“Your parents are here?”

“Yeah?” The boy raised a brow. “Why?”

“Good,” He whispered. “I’m pretty sure Mel’s dad has been planning a way to murder me tonight and make it look like it was an accident.”

Perseus laughed.

“What?”

“Shh!” He looked over his shoulder. “He’s coming!”

Matthew’s imposing figure stepped into the entrance, Mel walked in after him. She was tinier than her father, but her scowl was enough to make people fear her.

“Lovely night, isn’t it?” Matthew asked out loud.

“Wonderful,” Mel replied sarcastically. “If only my dad stopped acting like a baby.”

“Watch your words, girl,” The man warned her.

Matthew Dumbledore’s daughters were usually calm, sweet daddy’s girls. However, whenever they had a disagreement people could just feel the power emanating from them. Now that Mel was older, it was really obvious that she had inherited her father’s character.

“Ruddy,” Sirius’ eyes were darting nervously between the two. “It is a lovely night, so let’s try to keep a nice attitude, shall we? It’s a group date! Love is in the air!”

“And it stinks of hormones,” Matthew replied angrily.

“Oh god,” Mel rolled her eyes, she turned to look at Hermione. “Hi, are you having a good summer?”

“Er… yeah,” Hermione stared at Mel’s dad nervously, he was usually the most charming man. “Yeah… and you?”

“It’s been good,” Mel walked up to Harry and he flinched, eyes immediately fixing on Matthew’s. “This is ridiculous!” Mel turned to Persephone. “Could you please talk to my dad? Harry’s been nothing but a gentleman in and out of school and it’s time he gets over his overprotective nonsense.”

“Alright, enough of this, Ruddy,” Persephone crossed her arms and looked at him sternly. “You know Harry since he was a baby! His parents are your friends! It’s family already, c’mon…”

“I’m sorry, but I find it a bit hard to believe that in a matter of months this boy dropped all the mischief and bad behaviour,” Matthew frowned. “The Potters are professional charmers, they would know how to trick a crowd.”

“Hark who’s talking!” Persephone exclaimed in disbelief. “You spent a whole year flirting with the whole school just to get Emily’s attention!” She turned to the children. “Which didn’t work, by the way.”

“My dad did what?”

Matthew’s eyes widened, he blushed a deep shade of red.

“That’s… that’s different, I was a kid.”

“I was a kid too!” Harry argued, finally finding enough courage after Persephone’s scolding. “I won’t use it as an excuse, I’m aware of how bad I was…” He looked down. “I just… I spent my whole childhood wanting to be like you and my dad… I saw an opportunity and took it.”

“That’s true,” Percy decided to back up his best friend. “He’s always admired you, Uncle Ruddy.”

“Admired?” Matthew grimaced. “Why?”

“You guys are legends,” Harry said. “And Mel is the coolest girl I’ve met. I promise I’m not dating her just to fool around… I’m…” Harry looked over at Percy and his mocking grin, Harry groaned internally, he swallowed his pride and fixed his eyes on the tall man in front of him. “I’m in love with your daughter.”

Mel beamed at his speech, she looked back at her father with her bright, sweet eyes and for the first time in the whole summer, Matthew felt ashamed of his attitude towards the boy.

“Fine,” He sighed. “You’re a good boy, Harry.”

“He’s amazing,” Mel responded, hugging Harry by the waist and looking up at him adoringly.

Matthew groaned, Sirius patted his shoulder and muttered something that sounded like ‘you’ve lost her, mate.’

“Hey, guys?” Remus suddenly appeared at the doorstep. “Hurry up, the movie starts in twenty minutes.”

“Moony,” Sirius frowned. “Thought Matthew was the only one chaperoning the kids?”

“He’s not here to babysit us,” Percy smirked. “Mel invited Tonks and uncle Moony suddenly had time to join us.”

“Really?” Sirius raised a brow, he walked slowly towards Remus, eyeing him up. “How come?”

“Ever since Mum brought her to talk about her work as Auror,” Percy explained. “He’s been awful social.”

“Uncle Moony has a crush,” Mel grinned.

“I don’t!” Remus tried to look offended. “I — I just want to spend time with my favourite nieces and nephews!”

“Huh,” Harry raised a brow. “Is that why you offered to take Tonks home separately?”

“You’re trying to woo my cousin, Moony?” Sirius stood in front of him.

“Oh, I saw the way they greeted each other this afternoon,” Matthew raised his eyebrows. “Pretty sure he’s wooed her for at least a month now…”

“Ruddy!” Persephone swatted his arm. “Don’t be vulgar!”

“And he still has the nerve to complain about Harry,” Mel teased, Harry now had his arm firmly wrapped around her shoulders.

“Seriously, it’s getting late,” Remus insisted, completely ignoring their comments. “And we don’t get to use magic at muggle theatres, so you don’t want to get caught in the middle of a long line…”

“I insist, we don’t need babysitters for our dates, we’re sixteen!” Percy whined as he walked out of the house followed by the rest.

“Tell that to Prongs’ car,” Matt snorted. “It’s lucky we have magic, otherwise you would’ve spent half of your parent’s money paying for a new one.”

June 1998

They had decided to make the party at Lupin’s place because it had a beautiful, wide garden. Usually, they would wait until July, but this was a special occasion.

Harry, Mel and Percy had finished their last year at Hogwarts.

The place was full of familiar faces, friends from school as well as their families, even some of their favourite teachers were there, even Snape, who was (unfortunately, in James opinion) part of the family since he was Joshua’s godfather.

James and Sirius had been snickering close to the man’s table, laughing at how absurd Snape was looking surrounded by colourful balloons and confetti.

“We can’t deny he’s been quite a decent godfather to Joshua,” James sighed. “Although Joshua has never been a problem, bless him, he’s all Lily. Snape’s lucky he got the quiet one, I can’t even imagine what he’d do if he’d gotten Cassia or Ivy.”

“Drop dead, probably,” Sirius smirked.

“I can hear you,” Snape turned around on his chair, looking at the men with a quirked eyebrow. “Loud and clear.”

James choked on his drink and quickly replied with an apology, Sirius couldn’t stop the silly grin on his face from widening.

“You’re worse than your children,” Snape sneered, standing up and moving away to get a drink.

“Yeah we’re happy to see you too, Snivellus,” Sirius snorted.

“Leo Regulus Black!” Persephone’s voice came from the kitchen.

“Sounds like my wife needs me,” Sirius excused himself.

Back in the house fourteen-year-old Leo is looking at his mother with an innocent expression that it’s not working at all.

“What’s the matter, love?” Sirius enters.

“McGonagall told me just now that she never got a reply for her last letter,” Persephone said heatedly. “She says our dearest son set fire to the Hufflepuff Keeper! And he’s got this ongoing prank war with Cassia and Ivy, did you know they somehow managed to turn Filch’s cat bright green?”

“To be fair, that one was meant for Dennis Creevey,” Leo said. “I can’t stand that git—”

“You’re grounded,” Persephone crossed her arms. “For the whole month. I don’t know how you did it but I know you intercepted McGonagall’s letter and you’re in big, big trouble.”

“C’mon Mum, don’t be such a bore…”

“Leo Regulus —!”

“Yeah?” Regulus Black walked into the kitchen, holding a piece of cake.

“Not you!” Persephone replied moodily.

“She’s talking to the other Reg, mate,” Sirius said, patting his brother’s shoulder as he walked past. “Glad to see you could make it! How’s life? How’s work?”

“I’m not telling you what my job is, Sirius,” He replied with a knowing smirk.

“Oh, c’mon!” Sirius whined.

“— and if I hear you tried to steal another toilet from the school’s bathrooms I’ll write a letter so they ban you from the Quidditch team!”

Leo gasped, his mother walked out of the room fuming and Sirius looked down at his son trying not to look too proud.

“Bad luck, boy,” Sirius sighed. “At least the twins think twice before messing with the school staff.”

“It was their idea,” Leo sulked. “I wanted to turn Filch’s office pink.”

Sirius snorted, he shook his head and ushered his son out of the house.

“That went well,” Sirius sighed, looking over at the garden.

Outside there were two large tables so all the kids could sit in the same spot. Harry, Mel and Percy were all together as usual, although now Harry had his arm around Mel and Percy was holding Hermione’s hand on the table. Next to them were Ron and Ariana, who was laughing so hard she was almost crying.

Matthew had suffered the last two years, Ron was Harry’s best friend right after Perseus, meaning he’d been part of their mischief, but Emily hadn’t let him scare Ron and he’d been dating little Ari for a year and a half now, she looked happier than ever.

Next to the big group of lovebirds were the Potter twins: Cassia and Ivy. The redheads where talking animatedly with Lyra and Leo. Further down were the Weasleys, Erick Flint and his cousin Jo, Neville Longbottom, Josephine and Luna Lovegood. Persephone’s nephews and nieces were also there, although they were seated at a different table.

Sirius had never been fond of huge parties when he was younger, but this one was completely different to the one he remembered from his childhood.

“Needed a break from the noise?” Remus spoke behind him. “Me too, but I think I should get used to it.”

Sirius turned around and smiled, his friend was standing there, holding his newborn and glowing with happiness.

“Little Teddy has entered the party!” Sirius rushed over to carry his nephew. “Look at him! Nice hair, buddy.”

Remus laughed, standing beside him.

“Tonks has been trying to make him change it to pink, but so far Teddy’s favourite’s are blue and green, she’s not happy about it.”

“Well I think he looks good,” Sirius made a funny face to make the baby laugh. “Isn’t that right, little Ted?”

“Don’t let him fall asleep,” Tonks said, looking slightly anxious. “We’re trying to keep him awake so he’ll sleep the whole night.”

“It’s fun, isn’t it?” Sirius teased. “Real fun to have a baby...”

Remus shook his head, chuckling lowly. “Well you tell me, you had four.”

Little Teddy started to squirm in his arms and Sirius quickly returned him to his father, Remus was happy to take him back. The couple walked out of the house with Sirius behind them.

“Elena’s first year was uneventful, I heard,” Remus grinned.

“Yeah, she’s a nice girl like Lyra,” He smiled. “Leo says she doesn’t hang out with him and Joshua a lot, but they look after her anyway.”

“They’ll come back, you know?” Remus pointed to Percy with his head. “He’ll be around for a while before he moves out.”

“Yeah, a year or two,” Sirius smiled at his son proudly. “He wants to earn his own money, and he’ll need a while for that, then he’ll get his own place and leave us… Blimey, he’s a man now, I didn’t have enough time to enjoy him, you know?”

“It’s not like he’s leaving for good,” Remus calmed him.

“No, but it’s not the same, is it?”

“What are you guys whispering about?” Persephone got closer and kissed her husband’s cheek.

“We’re running out of kids,” Sirius nudged her side. “How about we have another one?”

“Absolutely not!” Persephone raised a brow. “Easy for you to say it, you don’t have to carry them around for nine months!”

“You know I’d do it!”

“My answer is no and that’s final, Sirius.”

“Oh well, I had to try,” He pouted.

“Is that Teds?” James called across the garden. “Bring him over, Moony!”

“My favourite thing about parties is that everyone always holds the baby for me,” Tonks winked, walking away from the couple with her husband following her.

“Is only a matter of time before Percy marries Hermione,” Sirius shook his head. “At least Lyra still hasn’t shown any interest in boys...”

“Yeah, she hasn’t,” Persephone snorted. “Because she’s dating Ginny Weasley.”

“She what?” Sirius’ head snapped to the side quickly, he spotted Lyra in no time.

Ginny was shamelessly flirting with his daughter, something Lyra seemed to be enjoying a lot.

“Ah, I know that smile,” Sirius frowned. “Well, okay… at least she knows how to use it.”

Persephone laughed at his reaction, kissing his cheek again.

“So what now?” Ari asked them with a bright smile. “What’s your plan? You guys will all live together for the rest of your lives?”

Percy made a face, Harry and Mel chortled.

“Nah,” Harry and Mel shared a look. “We’ve talked about it, actually…”

“I’ll work with mum,” Mel said excitedly. “I’ll learn all I can from her, she’ll teach me everything… then we’ll travel around the world looking for magical creatures for research and stuff...”

“You’re going with them?” Ron asked Percy.

The boy shook his head.

“I’ll make enough money to get my own place and then…” His gaze lingered on Hermione. He smiled. “Then I’ll do whatever she wants.”

Hermione rolled her eyes.

“Don’t be silly, you’ll know what to do by then, you won’t need to ask me.”

“Maybe,” He leaned and kissed her. “Doesn’t mean I won’t ask for your opinion, though.”

“You can join us if you want, Ron?” Harry offered. “I know you told your brothers you’ll help them with the shop they opened in Hogsmeade, but…”

Ron thought about it, Ariana was quick to intervene.

“Oh! Can’t you wait for me?” She said, her clear blue eyes staring at them imploringly. “I’ll graduate next year! If you wait we can all go together!”

“Didn’t you say you wanted to become a teacher?” Mel asked in amusement.

“Uncle Lupin said he’ll wait until Elena graduates to resign, and that’s six years away,” She shrugged. “Said he wanted to be around before his son was old enough to go to school — So travelling with you just like my uncle did might help me!”

“Sounds right,” Harry shrugged. “We’re not leaving until Mel decides it’s time, and that may take a while.”

“Well then, I could start working at the joke shop so I can have some money for the trip,” Ron smiled. “How long are we going to wait?”

“A year, maybe two,” Mel squirmed in her place with a huge smile. “It’s exciting, isn’t it? I can’t wait!”

Harry looked at her with adoration.

“Don’t worry, Mellow, we have time…”

WITS Taglist:

@dee123ksha @vampiregirl1797 @siriuslysirius1107 @stardusthigh @mikariell95 @vernon-dursley @thesuitelifeofafangirl @tomshollandz @kylosleftbuttcheek @reverse-hxlland @bloodorangemoonlight @omiwashere @t-rexs-world @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @21bruhs @i-am-scared-and-useless-bisexual @dielgonacoffee​

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[bibibuckleyy]

my thoughts on ‘The taking of Dispach 9-1-1′

this was SUCH a good episode from start to finish! *pulls out a slide show* Now i’ll show you breaking down every. single. scene-

jk lmao...unless?

spoilers below the cut!

lord. have. mercy.

these hoes are givin me major heist vibes

tiffany bby ur the driver but for me to acknowledge you as such you better be Letty Ortiz good hun

wow these thugs are a lot my organized than i first thought like i know they was carryin guns but i aint know they was packin this much like damn

Oceans 8 who?

so i wanna know where they just...got a cop car???

OH HELL NAH Y’ALL BEST NOT MESS WITH TERRY

I MEAN ANA MAY BE HIS SISTER

AND  SHE MAY BE MAKIN MOVES ON EDDIE 

BUT IN THIS HOUSE WE LOVE TERRY FLORES SO YOU GET YOUR GUN AWAY FROM SUNSHINE BBY

it’s kinda funny rewatching this scene when you know what’s about to go down

like i’m cacklin like ‘oh shooooot dramaaaa’

but i’m also like ‘SOMEONE GRAB JOSH AND RUN’

“temporary maintenance, happens all the time” cool cool cool 

i’m not freakin out you’re freakin out

josh and maddie are like friend goals i love their dynamic like yoooo

hi yes could you please get that gun away from terry’s head i would really appreciate it.

OMG SECURITY DUDE NOOOO

wow ur like the only line of defense in the dispatch center and they just kicked ur ass

is this where our tax dollars are goin??

fly high josh’s mug, fly high

that absolute look of fear on his face tho, still breaks my heart

josh russo defense squad post up homies

“i love you, howie” nope nope nope didn’t like it the second time either

when that gun went off

LET ME TELL YOU

i just,,,waited for the blood to start comin out of terry

thank god it wasn’t him

good scene lmaooo 9-1-1 writers i hate you all lmao lmao

“bees are the least of your troubles here, sweetheart” I HATE YOU DUDE

someone call mama grant please

“we’ve got dispatch” i do not like this ma’am i’d like to speak to the manager

“you’ll shoot us” man shut the hell up-

“no, we’ll shoot the person next you you” this dude is insane

lookin like mr.clean’s evil cousin LMAOOOOO

“you only do something like this so you can do something...worse”

um whAT-

“you’re being paranoid, she’s fine” CHIMNEY NO NO NO

i don’t think i’ve ever thrown this much popcorn at my tv in my life

as chimney said “don’t do it man” just picture a 5′5 lightskinned girl tripping over her blanket while yelling “DO IT CHIM, DO IT!” and you’ll have me

“sorry, we are experiencing a high call volume” BITCH MORE LIKE A HIGH CRIME VOLUME SOMEBODY GET MAMA GRANT DAMNIT-

*screams* BUUUUUUUUCK 

HI BBY

ooh nice shirt, i guess pink isn’t the only color that suits ya

he looks good in all the colors

whole damn snaaaaack

not to be an idiot on main but seriously, who watches the watchmen?

“i miss like an earthquake or something?” lmao chim is a whole vibe

“wait....why are you calling 9-1-1, is everything ok?” paired with that cute adorable concerned face he made is making me cry ok we don’t deserve buck T-T

“she’s at the call center, what could happen?” AT LOT ACTUALLY

OH THANK YOU JESUS IT’S ATHENA FUCKIN FINALLY 

*cries* mama grant you won’t believe the day i’ve had

“he’s my husband” LMAOOOOO WHAT

whoa tiffany we’ve already had our fair share of mail bombs here that bet’ not be what i think it is

THE PACKAGE IS VIBRATING AND BLINKING TAKE COVER-

ohhhhhhhhhh

it’s just takin out the security systems lmao 

“technical difficulties” BITCH MORE  LIKE CRIMINAL DIFFICULTIES

“i bet this woman really thinks you’re...worthwhile.” JOSH BBY DON’T LISTEN TO A WORD HE SAYS EVERYONE LOVES YOU

ahaha thanks i did not need those flashbacks it hurt enough the first time 

“a woman called about an omelet, i dispatched an officer”

“to the restaurant?”

“not exactly”

???

“i tried calling josh, but no answer” aww josh and buck are friendssssss :)

JOSH HAS BEEN ADOPTED BY THE FIREFAM PASS IT ON

:0

JOSH YOU GENIUS

YOU SMART SMART CINNAMON ROLL

MAMA GRANT IT’S TIME TO MAKE SOME MOVES

“nO NO CHIMNEY DON’T HANG UP!” i shouldn’t have laughed so hard

oh great he’s hastily grabbing his jacket. he’s about to do something rash and irresponsible

....someone call eddie.

that’s some good heist music right there

the bad guys look stressed....good.

“you’re here so i can keep an eye on you and make sure you don’t do anything foolish” BUT YOU LEFT BUCK

OK BUCK I LOVE YOU BBY

BUT YOU HAVE THIS HABIT OF TURNIN INTO SPECIAL AGENT 007 REAL FAST WHEN YOUR FRIENDS ARE IN TROUBLE MAN

LIKE

HE’S THE ‘EVERYONE BEFORE ME’ MEMBER OF THE FIREFAM

mama grant i ain’t questionin your authority or nun but like???

WHY WOULD YOU NOT KEEP AN EYE ON BUCK TOO?

HE’S THE MOST LIKELY CANDIDATE TO DO SOMETHIN STUPID

thats some reckless drivin there buckaroo

buck who were you tryna fool tho

athena only knows one golden retriever dude in this city who drives a grey and black jeep

“ok now, don’t be mad” LMAOOOOOOOO

HANDS DOWN ONE OF MY FAVE SCENES

HE KNEW HIS MOM WAS PISSED TOO LMAOOOO

athena’s look is sending meeeeee 😂😂

omg my god😭😂

“hey buck”

“...hey chim”

athena has some dumbass kids yo

the best part is, she knows it

the way mr. clean broke his neck when dude said ‘police cruiser’ LMAOOOO

“and if it’s not normal?”

“we’ll find out”

*blasts boss bitch*

i love the way buck is kinda concerned for his mom tho

and athena’s just like ‘it’s no sweat sweetie i do this every day’

“shoot her”

BITCH I HOPE THE FUCK YOU DO

YOU’LL BE A DEAD SON OF A BITCH

I’LL TELL YOU THAT

“shoot her, now”

try her bitch, see what happens to yo ass. 

the 118

the call center

the entire fandom 

we will collectively end you

“we got a report of a code 77″

THANK GOD THAT GOT ATHENA OUT OF THERE

what is a code 77 you say?

“ambush, proceed with caution”

well it sure nuff aint indecent exposure

*boss bitch keeps playing cause that was super smart for her to give out a code 77*

“maddie is smart, she can take care of herself until help gets there”

HELL YEA SHE CAN

SHE KICKED DOUG’S ASS SHE’LL KICK YOURS TOO

“they’re not gonna wanna leave behind a room full of witnesses”

i’m-i’m fine, i swear-

“killing people, your solution to every problem”

excuse me? do i hear morals??

they’re really fighting each other

they some grade a stupid right there 

there’s no way they are pullin this off

terry

terry what are you doing

TERRY

RUN TERRY RUN GO GO GO

OH SHIT

JOSHHHHHHHH

i thought they were gonna shoot terry

BUT JOSH CAME THROUGH IN THE CLUTCH

wowwwwww dispatch is a lot more badass than i thought

these dudes are hard core

OH

OH JOSH NO BBY

THAT LOOKS LIKE IT HURT

aii square tf up mr. clean we don’t hit josh here and you gon have to pay for that one

the way everyone is just quietly sobbing tho

it saddens me

“I need another thirty minutes”

i’m really enjoying watching this dude’s plan crumble around him

swat posted up aii i see yall

“we’ll try to get eyes in a damn windowless room”

well when you put it that way it sounds like this is hopeless

“i’m sorry i thought you were crazy”

“i’m sorry i wasn’t”

wow i don’t think i was supposed to laugh at that

and chim bein concerned for maddie is literally one if the best things ever y’all.

completely unrelated note, anybody else see bad boys for life?

“yeah i’m ok, my ears are just ringing a little” with the TEARS and the SNIFFLES and him SMILING THROUGH THE PAIN JOSH IS TOO PURE FOR THIS 

“why do you think we asked for so many RA units?” BITCH I KNOW YOU FUCKIN LYIN

for those of y’all that ain’t kno, RA units are rescue ambulance units

way to reassure people, lady

it’s like she said ‘everyone might be lightly shot by the time this is all over’

“so you are worried. it makes sense, cause all your friends keep dissappearing are they even in the same building?” WITH THAT LOOK OF STRAIGHT SPITE DAMN MADDIE BUCKLEY, DAMNNN

we stan the BAMF BUCKLEYS

“oh my god, LINDA??” lo key thought this was real for a second

“latex! is there latex in your gloves?” greg come on man you planned a heist you can’t be this stupid

SURPRISE! LINDA IS ALLERGIC TO BEES

ENJOY YOUR EPINEPHRINE ASSHOLE

OH

OH WOW

WOW DISPATCH

Y’ALL JUST-

WOW

EVERYONES GOT GUNS AND EVERYTHING OH MY GODDDDD

GIVE IT UP FOR DISPATCH 

you know it’s really funny, cause tiffany ain’t nowhere to be found

“next one goes in your head” OOOOOOOOOOOH SHE’S A BOSS ASS BITCH BROOO YESSSSSSS

(i know, two different songs, but ya gotta admit, it applies)

“you don’t get to die” 

i just-

hands down, most powerful line in the whole episode.

it’s an odd form of vengeance, saving the man that attacked you multiple times from the release of death

 that’s what it would’ve been tho

a release

he would’ve died, and he wouldn’t of had to pay for any of his actions

but instead, josh saved his sorry ass

so he gets to pay for this in the land of the living

the best revenge, actually

and, josh saved a life

he’s worthwhile

“i’m not goin back” well i knew mr. clean was gonna die from the beginning sooooooo

“we’ve got dispatch”  and it’s finally over

i’m kinda bummed that we didn’t get to see SEAL!buck or the rest of the firefam but we got  BAMF!dispatch and that was enough lmao

kudos to those off duty dispatches as well, like y’all just walked past the dead body and moved on from the whole hostage situation to do your already stressful job

CHIM’S FACE WHEN HE SEES MADDIE I AM SOBBING

THEY SAID MADNEY RIGHTS Y’ALL😭😭😭

this hug is everythinggggg 

lo key buck watching from afar breaks my heart ahaha

“she already has everything she needs”

....this is tea for another day, but...

buck, you do know people need you as much as you need them, right?

....right?

still not over that hug tho

ayeeee wassup bobby!

how was the camping trip i was extremely against?

oooooh i love the crime recaps!

i may or may not have been like buck in the bank episode when he said ‘i’m some confused, can you start over’

...ahem....

“wait....you didn’t round her up too?”

ok listen....

while i don’t condone stealing and and the extreme amount of violence they used,

i do condone outsmarting men that think less of you because you are a woman

you are a boss tiffany, and i’m actually kind of sad you got caught

“tiffany was the real mastermind” can i just.....

*BLASTS BOSS BITCH FROM THE ROOFTOPS CAUSE WOMEN OWNED THIS EPISODE! THEY WERE SO DAMN BADASS*

thanks 9-1-1 writers for that, btw. 

gotta admit, as much as they rip out our hearts and stomp on em, they know what they are doin

jake you shady shady bitch

ngl tho both plans were solid 

maybe if it was done completely by women it would’ve worked :)

“looks  like your trip’s been delayed...by about 5 to 15 years” athena you got the best lines yo

jake f’ed up the other plan too lmaoo

like i said, if it was all women, they would’ve pulled this off

and they end it with madney

gosh i loved this episode

So! These were my thoughts on 3x14! Let me know what you think, and hit up my ask box if you want me to post my thoughts on another episode! Later taters!

Oh yeah, if you liked this you can find my thoughts on ‘Pinned’ here!

[hollenka99]

The One Where More People Die

Summary: Marvin confronts Anti and learns something he wishes he hadn’t.

Warnings: Mentions of death, murder and manipulation

Marvin is apprehensive when he approaches the door. He honestly shouldn't be involving his brother in his superhero issues. Still, he was hopeful Sean would talk sense into him. The meeting proceeds as usual with coffee and chatter on the sofa. Marvin takes advantage of a natural lull in conversation.

"If I kill Anti, will you forgive me?"

He has never seen such a double take of this magnitude. "Marv, that's- fuck. You know I've always got your back as your brother but holy shit. You can't just dump that question on me."

"I know, I know. I'm sorry. I just... I've been fighting this guy for years and he won't stop. Desperate times, desperate measures, you know?"

Sean places both his hands on Marvin's shoulders. "Listen to me, you are being super irrational right now. I get that you are extremely done with him, I do. But can you even hear yourself at the moment? Please tell me you can."

"One guy to s-"

"Oh no, we are not going there. Don't you dare start bringing these morality thought experiments into the conversation. This isn't some hypothetical situation, Marvin. This is real life. You are talking about killing an actual person. An extremely shitty person but still. I obviously can't speak from experience but I don't have to when I say it will fuck you up for a very long time. I am begging you, don't get your hands dirty. Hang on."

Sean abruptly heads to a mirror to scrutinise himself. When he goes to face his brother, he looks like a bootleg version of Anti. The hair's not long enough or the right shade of green. Nor is his skin as pallid as the true killer's. Also, Anti's ears seemed to be slightly pointed at the top, which Sean is probably not aware of. Still, for someone who has never seen Anti in person before, it's a decent attempt.

"Find a way to arrest me and get me to rot in jail. After all I've done, don't you think I deserve to?"

Marvin has stopped looking at his brother. Instead, he is pressing his face into his raised knees at the corner. "Please don't change into him. Come on, pretending to be him is a shitty thing to do."

"Yeah, no, you're... you're right." He returns to the sofa as himself before swinging an arm around Marvin's shoulder to pull him in. This would have to suffice as a conclusion to the subject for now.

----

Jackie is one of the first to witness Marvin's ecstasy when he is able to prevent one of Anti's attacks. It had been a chance encounter while he had been patrolling in the park. Anti's mistake was shifting prematurely. All it took was a small distraction to allow the potential kidnapping victim a chance to escape. Cat hadn't seen where the guy had run off to but at least he was safe. The only bad outcome was Anti disappearing from sight as well. Someone's life had been saved, Jackie encouraged him to focus on that.

Jackie decides to surprise him with cupcakes for when he comes home from a shift. The gesture goes down well. Marvin brings up his recent good deed again as they sample the baked goods. Jackie is really glad to see his friend in a better mood. He's seemed so stressed lately. Marvin won't confirm it but he can tell it's linked to his work as the Magnificent Cat.

Joel drops by to hang out with his Irish friends later on in the week. He certainly does his best to act as he does normally but it is clear something's on his mind. When Jackie temporarily walks outside the building for a smoke, he is surprised to see his friend follow him. They make small talk for a couple minutes before Jackie delicately questions whether Joel was okay. He reveals there'd been a death in the family, his grandfather. And no, seriously, there's no need to apologise out of sympathy. Joel rambles a little about the man before voicing an odd request. He asks about Jackie's father. Jackie doesn't understand how that will help things but there was no harm in humouring his grieving friend so fuck it. He's slightly taken aback by the fact this causes fresh tears to appear. It gets mentally brushed off as this being a highly emotional time for Joel.

Marvin interrupts the conversation when he calls down from the balcony for them to return already.

"I feel sorry for him. At least I knew this was coming for a while. Shit's going to hit the fan hard for him soon and he has no idea."

Joel doesn't elaborate. Jackie isn't sure he wants him to.

---

Jameson had better things to do on a Tuesday night than deal with his tormenter. Yet here the asshole was, dressed in skinny jeans and a dark t-shirt, leaning against the doorframe. Under different circumstances, perhaps the glowing red light that leaked into the hallway would have been pretty to notice. It's far from it when Jameson's swaying to music with his daughter in his arms gets rudely interrupted.

"Cool, huh? I think our meetings needed a bit of jazzing up. Where's Laura, by the way?"

"None of your concern." The radio transmits.

"Oh, we're doing this via radio?"

"I am holding a baby and I don't trust you to behave long enough for me to put her down. So yes, as much as I hate it, I am using a radio."

"Right. Well, anyway, the reason I'm here is because-"

"I am not your reset button. Fix your problems on your own."

"So you'll let a woman stay dead, knowing full well you could have saved her life?"

"I am not the one who killed her."

Anti does not appear to be impressed with this response. Arms still crossed, he walks in Jameson's direction. As he passes, clearly on the way to the front door, he delivers a side eye to the performer.

"You know the cool thing about having the gene? There's always something you can refine, explore or expand upon when it comes to your abilities. I suggest you keep that in mind."

Despite Anti's absence, Jameson doesn't feel like having fun this evening anymore.

---

Anti clearly wasn't too pleased about something. The news claims it doesn't know who is responsible for bodies showing up with evident trauma to the skull. Honestly, who else could it be? If Marvin's mind wasn't so preoccupied with recent developments, he may have noticed how suspicious it was to receive correspondence from his enemy shortly after venting to Sean about the new murders.

The note delivered personally by the sender to the apartment reads:

Alright Cat, town centre at 3 tomorrow?

Oh definitely. Marvin wouldn't miss this opportunity to end things once and for all if he tried.

Anti was a trickster, he already knew that. If there was somebody he could shift into, he would. And yet Cat was still momentarily shocked to find Jameson waiting for him. It's not him though. He can't exactly tell how he instantly knows but he does. The real Jameson is likely at home right now.

"Alright Anti, what are you trying to prove? You've already made it very clear you've done your research into my personal life. Why my cousin?"

The murderer begins speaking through his hands. "I'm sorry for not telling you sooner."

"No. Jameson can't speak and definitely wouldn't use his sound manipulation to pretend he could. You've been speaking the whole time I've known you. Do your homework more thoroughly before trying to frame him."

"Alright, you got me. Not Jameson. I wanted to have a little fun with it but I guess that's not going to happen."

No, it certainly wasn't. The door bursts open. Wind rushes in. Anti is thrown to the floor. The Magnificent Cat wastes no time ensuring he remains there. Weight on the chest, hand at the throat and fist raised to potentially target the face. A moment passes as Anti processes the rapid succession of events. That's when he resorts to the worst tactic. The person Cat threatens now looks like Sean.

"How dare you." He feels the cheekbone for a second when his knuckle connects with it. "Stop looking like my brother."

"It's me!"

"He is the last person you should shift into if you want me to listen." The nose is targeted.

"Marvin please."

"Shut the fuck up."

"It's me, I swear. It's actually me." Anti is beginning to produce crocodile tears now. As if that would work on Cat.

"Why the hell should I believe you?"

Anti wriggles his fingers. They spark slightly. Cat misses this detail, preoccupied with glowering. He certainly pays attention when Anti causes his own hair to stand as he moves his hands around it. Sean loved performing that trick when they were younger. Oh shit. Marvin rapidly removes himself from his brother.

The situation de-escalated, the two brothers allow themselves to have the past few minutes catch up with them. Marvin sits with his knees up, one arm around them while the other rests on his forehead. Sean, meanwhile, remains on his back while covering his entire face with his hands. His nose is bleeding as a result of the hit. They breathe.

"Are you alright? I'm s-"

"Oh, sure." The hands are moved so they don't obstruct his mouth anymore. Now the heels of them are being pressed into his eyes. "My baby brother just punched me in the face a few times but yeah, doing grand." Arms flopping to the side, Sean turns his head to face Marvin. "But would we be brothers if we didn't have fights?"

"Don't joke about that."

"I'd honestly take being beat up over having a knife aimed at me."

"I'm so sorry. I thought he shifted into you to try get me at a disadvantage. I-"

"Stop. We'll be here all night."

Eyes still springing tears, Sean forces himself to sit upright. Marvin takes this as his cue to strongly embrace his brother. Sean reciprocates the pressure following a moment of surprise. The brothers remain in each other's hold for as long as it takes for tonight's events to truly sink in.

"I want to go home."

Marvin couldn't agree more with that desire. At Sean's apartment, the two of them sit quietly on the sofa. Neither seems to know how to break the silence.

"You don't have to talk. But I wouldn't mind some answers."

"No, you're right. You deserve the truth."

Sean's tale begins when he is 16. One of the other boys from school had been following him home and harassing him. That nuisance combined with the foul weather made him want to get home as soon as possible. While taking a shortcut through a field, Sean had lost his cool and whipped round to confront the kid. All it had been was a shove. Of course, poorly suppressed aggression had to be translated into something. And when you have electricity at your disposal? Those results can prove deadly.

"He was just there on the ground. And I was 16, you know? What the hell do you do when you've just committed manslaughter? Then everyone started talking about it. I had so many opportunities to turn myself in but never did."

"Why didn't you then?"

"You're going to hate me for this but uh... you. Well, you and the fact it had been rough weather that afternoon anyway. No, don't look at me like that. You were like 6 or whatever. As if I was going to leave you alone with our parents just because my powers acted out for a second."

"I kinda remember it being on the news." Marvin mutters numbly. "...You killed someone."

"It gets worse."

As it turned out, Sean had befriended a fellow student called Will Andrews while at university. The two of them had organised a drinking session together. He had gone a little too far that night and unwittingly revealed the secret he'd believed he would take to his grave. Unbeknownst to Sean at the time, Will had the gene. In Will's case, it had manifested in the form of possession. It allowed him to completely take over the individual and, in cases like Sean's, use their power to his advantage. He'd then proceeded to blackmail Sean by threatening to turn him over to the authorities if Will wasn't allowed to have his way.

As Marvin allows himself time to silently process this, he glances at the portrait hanging on the wall. It's a picture of Sean, some 10 years younger and with barely any facial hair, as well as a woman with her black hair plaited past her shoulder. They're both evidently very happy in each other's company. Marvin would hope so, since they were dating. Or, at least, had been before Emily had ended it in the worst way. All Marvin remembers from that night is Sean going out for the evening, Emily coming over with her key and them ending up hanging out until Marvin reluctantly went to bed. Then being informed the next afternoon after school that her body had been found in a nearby river. His brother had been a wreck following what she had done.

"Was Emily alone that night?"

"Don't."

"She wasn't, was she?" It's clear Sean is unable to say 'no' aloud. However, from the way this topic appears to be his breaking point, he doesn't need to.

Marvin doesn't push it. He'd never understood how she could have been so happy while chilling with him then deliberately drown hours later. However, being 13 at the time, he'd simply taken Sean's word that it was a far more complex issue than he likely could grasp.

"This Will guy's been making you kill all this time?"

"Yes." A voice crack within the whisper.

They meld into one from the force of Marvin's arms around him. "I'm so sorry. I wish you would've told me earlier so I could have helped."

"Not your responsibility." is mumbled.

"As if I'm going to let you be upset just because I'm younger. Tell your single braincell that, Zapper."

-----

A man with green hair walks into the nursery. It's a lovely room, the little girl's parents hadn't done a bad job when preparing for her arrival. The majority of the walls are light blue, white clouds dotted about. Hardly a masterpiece but he's sure the 10 month old didn't mind too much. Little Freya had been peacefully dozing in her crib until he'd approached. Ah, even while sleeping, she proved to be her father's daughter. She begins stirring as she is lifted. Anti ensures her senses give her no reason not to settle. Still, that baby monitor wasn't purchased for no reason.

As if on cue, Jameson comes cautiously speed-walking through the door. His anxiety rapidly morphs into contempt.

"Sorry to disappoint, it's just me."

"Get out of my house."

"How about... no. Or at least, not yet."

Baby in his arms, he makes himself comfortable in the armchair positioned in the corner.

"A man repeatedly breaks into your house and now is holding your child. You're awfully calm for someone in this situation."

"You are in no way a threat to her."

"Oh really? I could do it. Just a few seconds and I'll be giving you my condolences."

"We both know you're not going to."

"You're really prepared to call my bluff in this situation? Somehow, I don't think you're stupid enough to risk your daughter's life."

"I'd simply rewind a few minutes."

"What about this afternoon?"

"Oh for the love of god."

"Marvin caught me off guard and it ended with me giving him a bullshit story. Obviously, he can't know any version of the truth."

"No."

"Jamie-"

The performer holds his hand upright. "How many times must I say 'no'? If he knows any part of the truth then good. He deserves to stay safe from your deception."

"Tried to frame you today, you know. He's thankfully too smart for that trick. But could you imagine if it had worked? Dozens of counts of murder will land you a whole life order. If they found you guilty, there's no minimum term. It's not like you'll re-enter society when she's in her 20s. No, you'll be there until you keel over."

"There is no evidence. I can't be convicted."

"But Anti's been seen at countless crime scenes. By none other than the guy who frequently collaborates with the police. You'd certainly be a suspect if he chose to talk."

"Then I would explain the shapeshifting serial killer has decided to use an innocent and well loved performer as his scapegoat."

The light suspended from the ceiling flickers. The disturbance increases speed until the lightbulb can't take the abuse any longer. Jameson simply sighs, fighting the urge to roll his eyes or facepalm to emphasise his thoughts on this display. Time halts. Extracting Freya from Anti's arms is relatively easy. As soon as he touches her and wills it, she exists outside of time with her father. A safe distance from the man, his daughter safely in her crib as she should be, Jameson grants Anti the privilege of being freed from a temporal limbo.

"Grow up already." He glowers. "I am done with this little 'partnership' of ours. We both know you would never intentionally harm me or Freya. And don't you dare even consider laying a hand on Laura."

Anti puts his hands in the air so they are parallel to his head. "Alright, I get the message."

"Tell Marvin the truth. The real truth."

"Like hell I'll do something so stupid."

"Either you tell him or I will."

"We both know I would never risk him walking out of my life."

"The truth will come out eventually and it will be better if it comes from you. As for people leaving your life, well... I would have physically distanced myself long ago if there were not things keeping me rooted here."

"Really?"

This is evidently the final straw for Jameson. "You have abused my powers for your advantage, dressing it up as if I am doing justice. You have threatened the people I love so that I feel incentivised to do as you say. I struggle to sleep and I assure you it is not because I have a baby. You have made my life a misery and I have no obligation to play nice. Even when you stop looking like that, I don't want to be around you. But of course, I pretend the opposite is true to protect you. And yet, and yet, after all that stress and strife, you have the gall to act as if I owe you loyalty. I never have."

"I uh... didn't get all of that, sorry. But-"

"Then perhaps this will be a good summary." With one finger, he does indeed condense his message to something much more universally understandable.

"He won't forgive you for keeping this from him, you know." Anti remarks.

"Get the fuck out of my house."

"Whatever."

Anti begrudgingly makes his exit. The whole time he travels home, he wonders how much time he has left before the inevitable catastrophic end of all he's known.

[purplesurveys]

883

1. What kind of textures do you enjoy most in your food? Crunchy, crispy, soft, hard, grainy, slimy, etc? I love chewing on any meal that involves rice. Born and raised with it, can’t feel full without it. I’ll give a special mention to slimy too, because I love seafood.

2. Do you keep up any seasonal decorations outside of their season? No. My mom removes our Christmas decor by late January, which is when Christmas season ends here. We don’t decorate for other holidays.

3. Can you remember the most awkward situation you've ever been in? What happened? Ugh god. Any time I’m left alone with Gab’s dad is bound to be awkward because he’s very quiet and stoic and I tend to be a vibrant, cheery people-pleaser and nothing I do will muster more than two words out of him...but our most awkward moment has to be when I was at their place and he had to leave to run some errands. I stood up and walked over to give him a hug, but for some reason the floor was slippery and I started to do the world’s clumsiest and longest stumble. As an instinct, I held on to his arm and shirt so that I wouldn’t fall flat on my face. It was terrible and nothing I could’ve done or said would’ve saved that situation. EUGH I’m wincing right now lmao

4. Can you remember the most scary situation you've ever been in? What happened? [trigger warning] Would have to be the time when my grandfather got too drunk off his ass that he physically assaulted one of my cousins, then a toddler. My aunt (cousin’s mom) is a little on the delicate and petite side and couldn’t do anything to confront my grandpa, who went on his rage for like 10, 15 minutes. Certainly felt like forever. Nothing has traumatized me more and that’s saying a lot, considering it’s been 13 years and I’ve been through tons of shitty situations.

5. Do you do anything unusual to help you concentrate? It’s not very weird but I did install an extension on my browser that would let me list certain sites (usually social media) I’d want blocked whenever I have work. I suppose not everyone has that kind of program so it kinda counts as unusual.

6. Do you ever wonder what your parents were like as children/teenagers? With my dad, yes. My mom tells me enough stories. I know her family hit a rough patch when she was a teenager and they had to sell a bunch of their stuff, including a grand piano. She went from living a comfortable life to having to skip meals in college because she only had enough money for her daily commute.

7. Do you think suicide is ever "okay?" Groan, this is so triggering. I’m not elaborating on this, soz.

8. Would you rather a close family member/close friend/significant other die of suicide or murder? Why is this? “>> I think having to deal with a murder investigation would be terribly messy and intrusive, and would add more trauma on top of what I’m already dealing with.” < All of this. You don’t always get closure with murders, too. And I would hate that.

9. In your opinion, what is the worst thing someone could ever do? Raping an infant is definitely up there for me.

10. In your opinion, what is the best thing someone could ever do? Be a positive change or impact in someone’s life. Idk, I’m easy to please.

11. Do you think about any fellow xangans outside of xanga? I’ll change the context of this question to Tumblr so I can answer it. And yes I do, sometimes. Not in a creepy way or anything; it usually happens when I encounter something in real life that I know another survey-taker likes.

12. What military installation is the closest to you? Fort Bonifacio.

13. Do you still open your windows during winter? We don’t get winter but yeah, December is the best time to leave the windows open throughout the night. It’s also a great time to be able to save on electricity haha

14. How cold is too cold? How hot is too hot? I’ve lived in a tropical country all my life so I’m a big-ass wimp when it comes to the cold, even though I love it more. I start shivering at around 23ºC. Too hot is anything reaching the 40s.

15. Would you rather lose both legs or both arms? Why? Legs. I use my hands a lot more, so it would be slightly more difficult if I suddenly had to move about without them.

16. If you committed a crime that landed you in prison for the rest of your life, but were given the option to receive the death sentence instead, which would you choose? Why? Death. I get to have the infamous ~last meal~. Lol in all seriousness though, I’d pick it because it would be a quick release for me, I guess. It’s a big reason why I’m not a fan of death penalty...it’s too easy an escape for criminals who deserve a lot worse.

17. Is there any specific album you can listen to in its entirety and enjoy every single song? After Laughter - Paramore

18. Would you rather be a famous movie star, television star, or musician? I don’t have talents that would make me succeed in any of these fields...I guess it’d be fun to be a movie star though.

19. If you are not religious, have you ever eaten dinner with a group of people that were and said grace before eating? How was this for you? If you are religious and say grace before dinner, have you ever eaten dinner with a group of people that weren't and didn't say grace before eating? How was this for you? Yes. I’m from a Catholic family, so we pray before every meal. I do a sign of the cross but barely, just so my mom sees I move my hands when we start the prayer; but I haven’t recited grace since I told myself I was going to be atheist.

20. Do you think an evil Santa or an evil Easter Bunny would make a better villain in a horror movie? I’d go with Evil Santa mostly because I have no attachment to the Easter Bunny whatsoever, and because it’d be hilarious to see a man with reindeer be mean.

21. Did you ever think any fictional story-book character was creepy as a child? Do you still think any of them are creepy? Yes. That girl who wears a ribbon around her neck still gives me the fucking creeps.

22. Would you rather wear nothing but white or nothing but black? Is there any color you'd actually want to wear head-to-toe? Black. I’ve done that many times, so it wouldn’t feel weird.

23. What physical/mental health problems run in your family? Do you have any of the same problems? I’m almost certain there are underlying issues on my mom’s side but seeing as none of us have ever gotten ourselves checked (and most of them don’t believe in mental health problems anyway) I doubt I’ll ever find out what exactly’s wrong.

24. What is your mental and physical health like right now? They are both doing surprisingly well considering how long I’ve had to stay home and how much everything has turned upside down. I’ve only had two bad breakdown in four months and I’ve since recovered from that nasty fever I got, so I can’t complain.

25. If you found a suitcase (with no information about the owner) with a million dollars inside of it , would you turn it into the police or keep it? Be honest. ;] “>> See, a million dollars is an exorbitant sum. There is no way I could just casually make off with a missing million and not suffer repercussions. It's just too much goddamn money, and in this particular scenario, it's highly likely that it's a trap of some sort (whether set for me, or set for someone else and my dumb ass just happened to stumble across it). I'm not dumb enough to try it.

Neither would I necessarily want to turn it in, because that might cause me to get involved in something I didn't want or need to be involved in. The most logical course of action for me would be to leave it the fuck alone.” < Yeup.

26. Would you rather gaze at the stars or clouds? Stars. The fact that they’re so much farther away makes them more fascinating to me.

27. Are they any foods you used to enjoy but no longer like? Are there any foods you used to dislike but now enjoy? There’s a certain brand of frozen sisig that I used to looooove and would have multiple servings of every time I had it. But I had it one too many times and now I can’t even stand the smell of it. On the other hand, I hated chicken curry as a kid, but I can’t get enough of it now.

28. Do you feel much older or younger than you are? Why? Neither. I just feel 22.

29. Did you get along with kids that were older or younger than you? I mostly got along with kids of the same age. I found younger kids too rowdy and being around older kids always felt intimidating.

30. Do you know any magic tricks? Nopes.

31. How much would life suck for you if you had a wheat allergy? A lot.

32. Are you able to watch gory scenes in movies? Why or why not? For sure. I always want to see how far FX artists can go; and if used correctly, gory scenes can be super integral to the movie. Midsommar is a really good example.

33. Do you constantly check the time? Does time seem to move quickly or slowly for you? Not anymore. I used to check it a lot while I was still in school. Sigh, I miss that life so much. Anyway, time definitely felt slower during the first few weeks of the lockdown, but now that I’m used to it days just fly by. I can hardly believe we’re nearly in the middle of July. So much of this year has been wasted. It’s miserable.

34. Would you rather live in a nice house in a bad location, or a less-than-nice house in a great location? I’m taking the great location. I don’t know if I can last living in a shady area, no matter how beautiful my house is.

35. Have you ever been a witness to a horrible crime? What happened? Domestic violence is the worst thing I can think of. I enumerated one of them in one of the earlier questions, but I witnessed several other cases as a kid.

[tekka-dan]

I was informed of some disturbing news today regarding my best favorite boy Sasuke Uchiha and what his ultimate outcome will be in Borutrash.

Tumblr deleted my first initial rant, so I had to sit down and write it again. Not to fret though, re-writing has given me some clarity and all of you are going to witness my first hand unresolved, but subsiding, rage with the way Borutrash has handled Sasuke Uchiha’s character.

For anyone that’s new to my blog, content, posts: I am heavily against Boruto [as a character, manga, story, concept, anime] so if you’re a fan person of this series and you don’t like disputes or negative opinions your cue to dip is here.

You’ve been warned. Moving on.

Starting off, those of us who remember Sasuke Uchiha from the older days of Naruto [part 1] can easily summarize his character in one word: avenger. As the storyline progressed Sasuke became more than a so-called avenger and he started to gain some heavy handed, much needed, development. If you can recall that much, you would also recall that Sasuke was the “oppositional” character in the earlier days of Naruto. Meaning, Sasuke was the character that didn’t abide by rules, he did whatever he needed to advance but it was for his own sake and decision. He joined the academy to avenge his clan and become stronger to defeat his brother. When he meets Orochimaru that opportunity [to become stronger] arose and he took the bait (eventually—lets forget the part where he was kidnapped against his will, tortured and then kidnapped again).

So with all of that being addressed for his character, Sasuke choosing to follow under Orichimaru’s footsteps, this made Sasuke enter the “antagonistic” role. The reason this role was important for Sasuke [as a character] is because we are given context for his motives outside of the sunshine protagonist. Sasuke knew what his goals and ambitions were from the very beginning and also from the beginning he was being overshadowed by a bumbling fool that couldn’t even throw out milk on time. Sasuke didn’t have time for that, so he fucking bounced like the cool kid he absolutely was. Being on the “dark side” gave depth to this shallow story because once Itachi Uchiha made his appearance, and his role in the black ops and being a double agent was revealed — suddenly this sunshine village with its sunshine protagonist isn’t all sunshine.

Sasuke leaving the village was the best thing he ever did in this series and he is one of the four main characters that had a vision that he never got to achieve and questions he never got answers to. When Sasuke left the village, we are only in the mindset of him as a person and what he’s trying to achieve. We aren’t in Konoha village where the Will of Fire exists, where “I don’t believe in letting comrades die” comes into play — no, fuck all of that, we are simply inside Sasuke Uchiha’s mind and all Sasuke Uchiha thinks about is murdering Itachi for killing his clan and wanting to understand why Itachi would murder his clan in the first place. These are concerns far more prevalent than doing stupid ninja tasks or whatever the fuck Konoha participated in since all they seem to do is evoke war, genocide and havoc. Nothing seemingly important happened in this village up until Sasuke departed and suddenly everyone gives a fuck about saving the last Uchiha.

I seriously wonder what the Third Hokage was thinking. He (and Danzō) coaxed an actual child/teenager (Itachi) to slaughter his own clan in order to silence their people and then they are surprised when the surviving member of that clan flees the village.

Like Konoha is full of fucking dumbasses I swear. So that’s why I’m glad Sasuke did leave and it was eventually at his own free will. That also ties into my next point.

Sasuke represented oppression. His entire clan represented oppression. Them standing up against the Konoha System represented oppression. And it isn’t enough that every single member of them dies, it’s last member flees the village, and he goes on to save the same village that oppressed him to then become fodder and succumbing to pointless death in the continuation series?

Let me repeat that: Sasuke represented oppression. Now they are silencing him - and everyone that came before or after him - forever. Eternity. They expect Sarada to carry on the Uchiha genes but we aren’t remembering that she’s only half. We are forgetting that she [somehow] learned about the massacre from books in a library. She hasn’t learned anything from Sasuke or Sakura themselves. Why is that? Because they are trying to silence it forever.

This entire series feels like some massive “fuck you” propaganda because it doesn’t sit well to me. The character that represented oppression, stands up against the system as the last remaining member who can do so, he’s beat down without given a single answer to the questions he poses and then he’s forced to atone for sins he didn’t commit / shouldn’t be apologizing for to then go on to have an offspring he wasn’t ready for to then be killed off?

Is it not enough to just admit you wanted Sasuke Uchiha around for shipping bait and to ensure his uchiha bloodline succeeds him? Because that’s what it is.

They don’t give a single shit about his character and if Naruto didn’t spend 400 of 500+ episodes chasing him to reiterate Sasukes importance than guess where Sasuke would’ve died?

The same place Itachi would have.

Sasuke Uchiha and Itachi Uchiha would’ve both fought to the death, not a single brother would’ve walked away from that. And you know what? This would’ve been an honor to him as a person and as a character. Because up until he faces Itachi his only goal was to defeat his brother and learn why he did what he did. Itachi told him (albeit on his death bed) but I assure you they would’ve wrapped Sasuke Uchiha’s character up then and there and let him perish along with Itachi.

But they didn’t. Why? Because they needed Naruto to beat him into submission. They needed Naruto to remind the audience why Sasuke was considered an antagonist and why leaving the village is forbidden. They needed Naruto to brag about becoming hokage to preach about saving everyone, except the “everyone” excludes every single slaughtered and slain / deceased member of the Uchiha Clan, you know, the only people that ever truly mattered to Sasuke. Nah but it’s alright, sunshine protagonist Naruto needs Sasuke around to remind Sasuke that “he knows how he feels” and “believing in his word can make everything better”.

What makes matters worse about them killing Sasuke who represented oppression after they killed and degraded his character is that other characters who opposed the system were killed off long before their characters could be succeeded or milked.

Example 1: Yahiko / Pein.

Everyone knows what became of Pein and everyone is aware of the Yahiko that existed before the Pein. Everyone knows that Yahiko was the Naruto of his village, wanting to make a difference and have the world be a better place. Except, when the poor young sap tried to achieve this goal, he was killed tragically during an incident that was incredible miscommunication. Dying at the hands of his friend is what was supposed to make that moment less painful but it only sparked the rage in what became the Pein we all knew that destroyed Konoha.

Pein / Yahiko was the embodiment of oppression.

Everyone knows how that played out, I don’t need to repeat the entire chapter and how the questions Pein asked Naruto were never answered, rather he was given a mediocre bullshit half ass speech that made him surrender and sacrifice himself.

Example 2: Neji Hyuuga

Before Naruto’s dreams were drilled over and over into our heads, there was Neji who represented oppression in a literal sense, preaching it to his cousin during their battle and then to Naruto during theirs.

When Neji was killed off, people were upset because his character died for nothing without atoning for a single damn thing. Neji was born a slave and died a slave and we are supposed to believe (and be happy) that during death he was free.

Is this what people expect for these characters? That only in death can they find peace, freedom or happiness? What a pathetic and crippling message that presents.

You see the picture I am painting here? It’s not looking too good, is it? There’s a fucking pattern to it, that’s why. The only difference with Sasuke Uchiha is that his bloodline was extinct so they needed someone to carry it on. Pein (who was Nagato) is an Uzumaki so his bloodline continued. Neji is a Hyuuga and his bloodline continued. Sasuke is the only one who hadn’t and they couldn’t do away with his character until they had a certain someone he could procreate with, regardless if they had a lick of chemistry.

I’m not saying you can’t kill off characters from stories, sometimes characters do need to die, eventually they will anyway. However there are better ways to kill your characters and writing stories that don’t disregard their pasts or completely ravage their futures.

Sasuke’s entire history is being erased and everyone else who represents the same thing were also erased.

When Hinata speaks about Neji (if she does?) does she talk about the hierarchy and what it did to him and his father to her kids? No, because they want to forget about it, they are ashamed of it so they hide these facts.

When Naruto speaks to Boruto (if he does?) does he mention Nagato or even Jiraiya? Does he talk about his former sensei enduring a war, taking on an orphaned group of three and then having to return to their village being slain? Does he talk about the brutal systems the other villages carry on? Again, no. Because these are things they are ashamed of, they want to never have be mentioned or brought up again.

Those who don’t know their history are bound to repeat it, as the old saying goes.

What makes this worse for Sasukes character after death is that his reunion with his “family” feels cheap and downplayed. The only character trait they knew how to write for his character is to be distant and/or absent. Because of that Sasuke never “grew” on Sarada. I think that’s unfair as fuck to do to him, they already robbed him of everything else and even prior to death he can’t just simply be a fucking father.

How goddamn sad is that?

I gritted my teeth at Sasukes end in Naruto 699 but hearing the news about the current predictions / fate of his character has left me with unresolved despise for this series all over again.

It’s not enough that they keep taking everything from him, now he gets to die the same way he feels: empty..

First they killed his dream, then they killed his spirit and now they are killing his character.

[crazy-little-cool-cat]

Hand in Glove - Chapter 8 | Ben Hardy x OFC

A/N: Since I couldn’t post a sneak peek this time without ruining everything, I figured I might as well just post the entire thing and be done with it. Kate, my muse; Julia, my soulmate; Alex, my love - this one’s for you.

Word Count: ~2.2K 

Warnings: Angst. 

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7

It wasn’t cold, but Annie was shivering. Storming out on Ben wasn’t the smartest choice she made, but she felt trapped. She didn’t know if she wanted that baby. Their baby. Ben, on the other hand, made it clear that he’s all in. All it took was one bright smile, and Annie knew. She knocked on the door again, constantly looking over her shoulder. When the door opened, she heaved out a sigh of relief. After driving around for just over two hours, she was glad she could finally stop running.

“Hey!”

“Hi. You’re not busy, right?”

“No, no.” Rami stepped back and motioned Annie inside, closing the door behind her and leading her to his living room with a hand on the small of her back, “this is a surprise.”

“Things turned to shit.” Annie collapsed on the plush cushions, “can I just… hang around here a little?”

“Wanna talk about it?”

“Is there any point to do that?” Annie’s voice was barely over a whisper. Rami shrugged silently. “I’m pregnant. I think he wants to have this baby. I fucking know he does.”

“Makes sense. He’s ridiculously crazy about kids.” Rami scratched the side of his neck. “And, you know, he’s batshit crazy about you since that damn wedding.”

“This is not the reaction I was expecting…” Annie’s whole face scrunched up in confusion.

“I was briefed about it all,” Rami chuckled, “if you really thought those three gossips would just keep it to themselves you need to get your head checked.”

“Solid point.” Annie nodded solemnly. “Still, I can’t have a baby with someone I’ve just met a few months ago.”

“Says who?”

“Me.” Annie groaned and threw her head back. “I’m not some cookie-cutter girly girl.”

“Oh, believe me,” Rami chuckled, “no one ever presumed you are.”

“I don’t want marriage and a hoard of kids,” Annie closed her eyes, “I don’t want to be the lonely, bitter wife that stays home and waits for her husband all day.”

“Ben wouldn’t want to turn you into one of those, you know.”

Annie’s phone kept buzzing in her bag. She knew who was calling. She knew he was probably going out of his mind at her silence. She hated putting him through it all. She also hated the situation that caused her to run away.

“So, what’s your plan?”

“I was hoping to just crash here tonight? Hide in plain sight, you know?” Annie realised how pathetic she sounded, “figure out the rest of it later.”

“You’re more than welcome to,” Rami smiled softly, “are you hungry?”

“I could eat.”

###

“She’s at Rami’s?!”

Ben couldn’t help but scream at this point. He was up all night, replaying what had transpired with Annie, trying to understand what happened. He tried calling Annabelle, but she wouldn’t pick up. He sent around a million texts. No reply. He even drove around the places he knew she likes to go. No sign of her or her car. Then, his phone rang and he couldn’t answer the call fast enough; only to hear Gwilym say that Annabelle had ended up at Rami fucking Malek’s place.

“Ben, calm your tits, mate.”

“Don’t tell me to calm my fucking tits, Gwil,” Ben snapped, “I was up all fucking night!”

“I know, we all were.”

“Only to find out that she’s literally in the last place I’d ever…” Ben barked out a laugh, “she’s so fucking brilliant.”

“She was always a master of Hide’n’Seek.”

“That tiny little -”

“Watch it,” Gwil warned, “that’s the mother of your unborn child you’re talking about.”

“I’m calling Rami.”

“I strongly advise you don’t do that,” Gwil quipped, “she needs some quiet time.”

“She dropped a bomb on me, man!”

“On all of us.”

“I need to talk to her.”

“You will, in time.”

“How are you so calm about this?!”

“I’ve known her for her entire life. I know she’ll come around.”

“When?”

“Ben, I really have to hang up now.”

“Of course you do.”

“Don’t call Rami.”

“I won’t.”

“Do I need to send Joe over there to babysit?”

“Fuck off.”  

###

“You can’t avoid him forever,” Rami finished the last of his coffee and hurriedly stuffed things into his bag, “or the rest of the world, for that matter.”

“I’m not planning on avoiding him forever.”

“It’s been two days, babe.”

“Did you -” Annabelle looked absolutely bamboozled, “did you just call me babe?”

“Sorry, force of habit,” Rami grimaced and chuckled, “usually the only girl I have around here is Lucy.”

“I still don’t know what the fuck am I supposed to say to him.”

“The truth would be a great start!”

“Really, Rami?” Annabelle tossed a throw pillow at his head as he passed by her, “you did not just say that.”

“I did and you know I’m right. You can’t stay here forever. Lucy will get suspicious.”

“Just say that you’re kicking me out then!” Annie laughed for the first time in two whole days.

“Never, you are such an emotional delight.”

“Motherfu -”

“Leaving now!” Rami interrupted her and shut the door.

Annie leaned back down with a huff. She reached for her phone, turning it on. She couldn’t handle the constant buzzing and notifications lighting up her screen. She just needed everything - everyone - to stop. Now that she felt calmer, she was ready to gauge the damage she had done.

###

There was a very tense, awkward silence during lunch. The four boys sat around their usual table in the catering tent. Gwil and Joe tried to keep up appearances and break the tension with some banter and jokes. Rami and Ben, however, have not spoken to each other since Ben found out his girlfriend - his pregnant girlfriend - is hiding at Rami’s for the second day, now.

“Can we please discuss the elephant in the room?” Gwil said, looking from Ben to Rami.

“There’s nothing to discuss,” Rami started, pushing his food around, “she’s at my house. That’s that.”

“You really think that what you said makes perfect sense?” Ben scoffed, “or are you really just a bloody idiot?”

“Ugh,” Joe groaned, “here we go, again...”

“She doesn’t want to see you yet!” Rami rolled his eyes and dropped his fork, “get over it.”

“Rami…” Joe glowered.

“No, seriously! Ben’s out here throwing a tantrum because he knocked up his girlfriend,” Joe was about to interrupt but Rami held up his hand to stop him and carried on ranting, “and she needs some time to think about the fact that he’s thrilled about having a child with a girl he’s known for just a few months!” Rami held up four fingers, “Four. Months. Can you blame her for wanting to just -”

“You think I’m thrilled?” Ben snickered, “you fucking owl with your goddamn huge fucking eyes -”

“Ben!” Gwil smacked him.

“Oh, so now you don’t want that baby?” Rami raised an eyebrow and sipped his soda.

“No, I do!” Ben hissed, “I’m fucking scared but I still want this to happen!”

“Okay,” Rami nodded, “but what she wants is to be able to think without you pressuring her! As long as that’s the case, she’s staying with me.”

“No. No!” Ben looked at his three best friends, “she’s my girlfriend. She’s hiding over at your house.”

“She needs time!”

“But I need her!”

“Ben -”

“No!” he felt he’s at his wits end, “I haven’t slept in two days. At all. Her phone is off, I can’t reach her,” Ben’s voice broke, “I know where she is and I can’t fucking do anything about it. Because you,” Ben pointed at Rami, “won’t let me see the mother of my own bloody child.”

“Ben,” Rami smirked wickedly, “what if she doesn’t want to have your bloody child? Huh?”

“Did -” Ben’s green eyes widened in sheer horror, “is that what she said? She said she doesn’t want it?”

“No, you asshole,” Rami picked up his fork and stuffed his face full of Ravioli, “she didn’t say anything about what she wants. That’s why she needs time to think.”

Gwil frowned at his phone, completely detached from the entire fight. He opened his mouth to speak a few times and snapped it shut.

“Annie just texted me,” Gwil blurted out. His mouth agape, his green eyes shining with hope, Ben looked at his girlfriend’s cousin in utter shock. “She said you should check your phone.”

###

Annabelle didn’t know how her life got so out of hand. She felt like it was slipping out of her control and it terrified her. After trying to think about the entire ordeal and getting nowhere, she figured she might as well just talk to him. 

Ben wasted no time when his workday ended and he went straight to Rami’s doorstep. They stood outside on the stoop, so Ben could have a smoke. They have been going on and on for about an hour now, with no conclusion. Annie looked at her red Chuck Taylors, stuffed her hands in her oversized hoody’s pockets and shook her head, disappointed with herself.

“I honestly can’t believe you want this… this…”

“Baby? Yeah,” Ben inhaled a deep cloud of smoke and blew it out, turning his head away from Annie, “Me too. But I do.”

“This can’t be happening.”

“Why not?”

“Because we’ve been in this relationship for, what, four months now?” Annabelle felt like screaming at his stupid, beautiful face. “Because we don’t even live together, Ben! Because -”

“So, move in with me.”

“Are you even listening to yourself right now?!”

“Annie, your entire heap of shit is already at my house. You’re there every night.” Ben was losing his patience, “come to think of it, we do live together.”

“Shut up.”

“I’m serious. Stop paying rent for a flat you no longer live in.” He pointed at her with his cigarette, “it’s fucking wasteful.”

“And what,” Annie mocked, “we’ll get married, have our baby, I’ll be your happy little housewife while you’re never around because of your fucking job?”

“Other than that middle and last parts, yeah,” Ben dropped his half smoked cigarette to the floor and stomped on it to put it out, “sounds good to me.”

“Fuck off.”

“Annie, what do I need to do for you to finally be okay with the fact that I fucking love you?”

“You love the thought of me, you don’t love me.”

“Oh, great, you’re spewing shit out of your mouth again.”

“Ben, I will never, ever, be that girl,” Annie could feel rage bubble up in her veins, “I don’t want marriage. I don’t want to be the wife that sits alone all day and waits for her husband to come home after he fucked his mistress.”

“Mistress? Have you gone utterly mad? What are you even on about?”

“I don’t know, Ben!” Annie’s voice rose about two octaves, “listen to me. I am not what you want me to be.”

“What do you think it is that I want you to be, exactly?” Ben threw his arms out to his sides, “I won’t even dream of proposing to you, if you don’t want me to. I don’t care about any of it,” he glared at the tiny little ball of anger in front of him, “I don’t want to fuck anyone else but you. I’m not sure I ever will.”

“Of cou -”

“Shut up and let me fucking finish,” he growled, “you are so infuriating, you know that? Annabelle, I don’t love the thought of you. I love you, alright?”

“I can’t give you what you want and -”

“You can give me you. That’s literally all I want.”

“And that?” Annie pointed at her belly, “do you want that?”

“I do.”

“What if I don’t?”

“Then that’s totally up to you. It will make me so, so sad,” Ben pulled her to him, “but it’s your decision, bottom line.” He cupped her face in his hands and tilted her head up so they could finally look at each other’s eyes, “Annie, I would never force anything on you.”

“I just don’t know…”

“Is that what you’re afraid of?” Ben could see Annie build her walls up, “Annie, stay with me, here. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Ben.”

“What?”

“Don’t say you’re not going to hurt me because you don’t know that.” Annabelle put her hands on his wrists, “you might hurt me. I might hurt you.”

“You’re right.”

“You say you love me now,” Annie’s thumbs rubbed circles on Ben’s skin, “but what if you just stop one day?”

“That would be impossible, be realistic.” They both giggled softly at that. “Annie, I love you.”

“People will talk about this.”

“Let them. I really don’t care about these people.” Ben pressed his forehead to Annie’s, “this is ours. Not theirs.”

“I know.”

“I couldn’t function these past two days, Annie,” he chuckled, “it’s like everything depends on your existence around me, now.”

Annie nodded slightly and sighed. She knew exactly what he meant, because she felt it too.

“I fucking love you, do you not understand that?”

“No,” Annie smiled, “I mean, I do. I fucking love you, too.”

TAGLIST: @ramibaby @xgoingdownx @clara-who @violetpond @sweeterthancheese @drummerqueenrmt @westansstuff @rogerinamainbitch @justgivemethekeys  @blondecarfucker @cheeseedreams47 @rogerspoison 

[jane-ways]

The Love of Small Things, Ch 4

Read it on AO3 & SWG!

Many thanks to @nerdvnel for beta reading!

It was morning in Valinor, and the sun was shining. Well, the sun was almost always shining in Valinor, but right now it happened to be shining directly into Fingon’s eyes. He sat, resolute, at the little dining table in his breakfast nook. Fingon loved the breakfast nook for the way it caught the early morning light, but it was now closer to mid-day, and the angle was all wrong—alright, if Fingon was being honest, everything was all wrong. He sighed in frustration, tossing his quill onto the pile of parchment scattered across the table.

‘Whatever am I supposed to say?’ he thought to himself hopelessly. And yet, he felt he ought to say something. It would be awkward if he didn’t say something, wouldn’t it? He was the son of Fingolfin, after all; he had been raised to take duty to family very seriously. But what sort of duty does one have to the fully-grown, adopted son of one’s lover? He laughed aloud at the sheer absurdity of it all. ‘Only in the House of Finwë,’ he thought.

A squirrel clambered up on the tree branch near the window. Sniffing the air, it looked through the window and chirped at him. He smiled encouragingly, and it considered him for a moment before scampering away, fluffy tail bouncing.

‘Perhaps the best thing is to stop thinking over-much about it,’ Fingon thought, and, picking up his quill once more, he began to write.

To the High King Gil-galad Ereinion, from Findekáno Ñolofinwion

My good sir,

It is a pleasure to finally begin a formal correspondence—well, any correspondence!—with you. I felt given my close—

“Um,” said Fingon aloud. How much of Maedhros’s personal life was known to the lad? Maedhros was a private sort of man; Fingon would hate to speak out of turn to someone who was, for all intents and purposes, a perfect stranger. Amongst the Noldor, he and Maedhros were something of an open secret—well, considering they were currently building a house together, Fingon doubted they were even a secret anymore—but Fingon did not know how much First Age gossip had passed down to Gil-galad about the High Kings and their love lives. ‘Well,’ he thought, ‘Erestor can fill him in,’ and continued on:

—relationship with Nelyo—that is, Maedhros—it was only appropriate for me to make your acquaintance. I would not be so presumptuous as to write to you under the pretense of offering advice on king-ing—considering I was only High King for about five minutes, compared to you, it really ought to be the other way around! No, but what I can offer you is plenty of embarrassing stories about Maedhros when he was young and foolish. Well, compared to myself and my siblings, or even compared to most of his, really, he was never terribly foolish, but still, every young person has their folly.

I was, of course, hopelessly in love with him from the moment I saw him. Everyone was, but me especially. I was only a child; he was my tutor, and I loved him before I understood what that was. All I knew was I wanted so desperately to be around him, to make him proud, to see him smile. And what a smile! All the more beautiful for being rare, even in those days.

As I grew out of childhood, I began to realize my feelings for what they were, which, may I say, was an absolutely mortifying experience. I think I spent the entirety of my “in-between” years being tortuously self-aware of every ungraceful action or word—and at that age, there are so many. At the time, I thought Maedhros was merely being polite in not acknowledging what seemed to me a glaringly obvious crush, but the extraordinary thing is I think he really had no idea! Lucky for me.

By the time I reached the age of ascension, I had convinced myself we were nothing more than friends. By this point I had returned to my own household, and for many years saw Maedhros very rarely. Apparently, this had little effect; as soon as I felt mature enough to strike up a correspondence, we were often in each other’s company, now as companions and equals and no more as student and teacher. We were genuine friends, just two men enjoying each other’s’ company—that’s what I told myself. Enjoying each other’s’ company, indeed! Still, I thank myself—if I hadn’t so doggedly pursued a friendship with him, he never would have gotten to know me as a person—an individual, an equal, not only as a pupil, if you understand my meaning.

Fingon paused, his first break in a steady stream of consciousness. The memory of his old body was faint, but he still remembered in his muscles the ache in his chest of those years he spent apart from Maedhros. (Sometimes, in Beleriand, he had felt the echo of that ache, and for a long time, he had not understood it.) He had been happy, of course. He was Fingon; he was always happy, even when he wasn’t. He had been happy, but not fulfilled—not entirely.

He picked up his quill again.

I won’t bore you with all the details—this was done as much to spare Maedhros as Gil-galad—but suffice it to say that slowly, our relationship grew deeper and more intimate—

Abruptly, Fingon stopped short, and then snorted, before continuing—

—and before we knew it, we were, well, “together,” as they say. I was still a young man then, and for all that I was brash, and still tripping over my own feet, Maedhros was elegant, and considerate, and intelligent. And tall. Very tall. It utterly escaped me what this handsome, well-spoken, thoughtful man (the most sought-after bachelor in all of Aman!) saw in me. It still does! He called me “valiant” when all I ever felt in those days was foolhardy.

My very first memory of him is this: I arrived at my uncle Feanor’s household, scared out of my wits, homesick before my tutelage had even begun. And Maedhros had come out to greet us, and when he saw me, he smiled. He was perfect, and I have never loved another since.

*

Maedhros tapped the tip of his quill against the inkpot. He always did that when he was thinking; it helped him focus. He was writing Gil-galad to “introduce” him, as it were, to the family—not who they were, of course, that was in any history book, but a little of what they were like as people, their interests. His memories of them. The sort of thing one was unlikely to find in a history book.

Or so he hoped.

He had always been reserved, no less princely than his father, but more reticent to share the intimate parts of himself. Thus, emphasis on the intimate, his current dilemma. Maedhros had made it fairly easily through his immediate family, devoting much time to his mother and making it through a discussion of his father and brothers mostly without incident—which he considered a notable feat—before beginning the Ñolofinwean section. Uncle Fingolfin’s paragraph had gone smoothly: the two of them had always had a strong connection, being closer in age and disposition to brothers than uncle and nephew. (And closer in disposition than Maedhros ever was to Fëanor, whispered a voice in the back of his mind.)

And then, next in the neat little genealogical exercise Maedhros had laid out, was Fingon.

It wasn’t that Maedhros was concerned how Gil might view the relationship; Beleriand had been, in his experience, more liberal in both thought and practice than the Valinor of his youth when it came to intimate relationships, half-cousins or no. (‘Well,’ he considered, ‘maybe not in Turgon’s house.’ It was unlikely anything had been liberal there.) Even in Aman people more or less shrugged their shoulders and carried on when they encountered such things nowadays. It wasn’t fear of judgment, it was just—

He simply didn’t know how to do it.

Maedhros was not regarded as one of the more emotional members of his family—not, of course, that this was particularly difficult given some people he was related to—and in general felt a great discomfort when speaking of, dealing with, or indeed acknowledging emotions more complex than, say, hunger. Being a prince, he had learned to mask this discomfort with a heavy dose of Fëanorian Charm, but the truth was that Maedhros had never felt he was any good at talking about his feelings.

And so he hadn’t talked about his feelings to Gil, not really. He had written about what he knew of people, what he admired, what he remembered. Little stories and anecdotes he felt encapsulated the nature of that person, and of his relationship with them. But with Fingon, it felt impossible to share so many of those moments without first some explanation as to who Fingon really was to him. Perhaps if he related only the facts of their relationship—how they met, how they became what they were to each other—it would spare them both: Maedhros, the embarrassment of writing what he considered lurid and saccharine details, and Gil-galad, the embarrassment of reading them.

I first met my half-cousin Fingon when he was a boy, sent to study in our household. He spent many years with us, mostly under my tutelage, and by the time he left, he was a man in his own right, poised to assume the duties of a prince. I thought him particularly well-suited for the job: cheerful and polite, but intelligent and determined. He shortly began a correspondence, which pleased me, and thereafter we were rarely apart, for, having come into full manhood, I found him a pleasing companion and friend. It is gratifying for those of us who have been teachers to watch our students grow into adults, and to come to know and respect them as equals, as they have respected us.

Thus, a relationship of some intimacy developed. Pleased though I was at the attention Fingon bestowed upon me, especially in beginning our correspondence, I was also surprised—not only that he should seek the friendship of his former teacher, but that a gallant and popular young man would seek the attention of someone so reserved and bookish as myself. But I found he brought out the best in me, as I came to know him better—my humility, my humor, my kindness.

And so, when he first confessed his feelings to me, I realized I had quite accidentally fallen in love with him.

It was suggested that my uncle had sent my cousin to study in our household as a sort of peace offering, an appeal to my father—a way to bridge our two families. It certainly worked, although perhaps not in the manner intended. We had been friends—true friends—for so long I hardly remembered the boy I had known centuries before. He had grown into a person whom I cared for, yes, but more importantly, whom I respected as a prince and a leader. Someone I admired.

In all things he has been my partner, and it has been my great privilege to share my life with him.

Maedhros paused, feeling like he had caught his breath for the first time since he had started writing that passage. He purposefully untensed his muscles, picked up his quill again, and, setting it to the page once more, continued:

Turgon.

He sighed.

*

Gil-galad looked up from his letters at Elrond. They sat, as they often did, with Erestor and Maglor in a small, semi-private chamber Gil had begun calling his “family room.” (Amused, Maglor had informed him that Celegorm had often called such rooms “dens.”) A crackling fire illuminated Elrond’s face, reflecting in his eyes, which were now raised to meet Gil-galad’s.

“Did you know about Adar and King Fingon?” he asked quietly. Across the room, Erestor’s eyes widened, and Maglor’s face spread into a wicked grin.

“Everyone in wider Beleriand knew about my brother and Fingon,” interjected Maglor, with a laugh. “There were at least a dozen drinking songs about the two of them.”

“You ought to know,” sniffed Erestor, who was pointedly refusing to look up from his book. “You wrote half of them.” Maglor was positively beaming.

Elrond ignored them; having gotten up to stand behind Gil-galad’s chair, he was too engrossed in attempting to read over the king’s shoulder. Skimming the page, he said, “I knew a little, but this tells me nothing new, save that Fingon was the one who confessed to Adar.”

“I always knew it would be Fingon,” said Maglor. “Moryo was running bets—on who would confess first, and when—and I won the whole pool,” he finished proudly. Holding up a finger, he recalled, “‘Fingon, at sunset, by the beech tree, in summer.’ Oh, don’t look so aghast, Erestor; you bet, too, you’re just still upset you didn’t win.” Quirking his eyebrow, Elrond turned his gaze to Gil-galad. This is what you’re getting yourself into, his expression seemed to say. Are you sure you’re prepared?

Gil-galad just smiled.

[oakmd]

Congratulations ! You received 1,000+ followers !

Continue? ▶YES ▷NO

 Well, I can’t really express anything but amazement at such an accomplishment, and to be honest I’m pretty blown away that so many of you have stuck with me since the beginning of this blog, and that so many of you enjoy Professor Oak enough to stay. I’ll forever stand by the fact that this blog was the best 'joke’ I ever made, and probably one of the most fulfilling things I’ve actively kept at. 

As much as I hope this blog has helped you find comfort and laughter, RPing Professor Oak has definitely changed me for the better, as well. It has given me an outlet to heal parts of myself and provide help to others, and also pushed me to practice positivity even when I know I get so low sometimes that I don’t even want to try. Another bonus is that I have met wonderful people here, most of you just strictly friends on the dash, but I’ve also gained relationships with people that have extended into discord and I’m sure it has made all the difference this past year and a half. 

As usual, I’m not really a fan of long-winded gushes of emotion, so I’ll keep it short, but I would really like to have it be known that my love for Professor Oak has grown tremendously, in ways I would have never reached without taking the time to thoughtfully craft his backstory and work to develop him further. I know he’s a very nostalgic character that so many of us know and respect that I’m always very careful of how I choose to build on the image without ruining what’s already there.  Out of all my many muses here, this one has seemingly ( and surprisingly ) all at once snuck its way as my primary blog; the blog I always look forward to logging into the most, where I enjoy following your activity whether it be IC or OOC, and just generally enjoy being in the presence of people so passionate about a fandom associated with my childhood. I love this little corner of a community that has welcomed me and engaged with me and unknowingly kept me going, and to look back at my experience and see that I’ve had no trouble at all makes me feel really lucky.

There will never be a way to fully and accurately express my thanks, but I will say it anyway: thank you so much, and I hope that no matter where you go, and no matter what you do, you are trying to be your best, and that you’re happy. Professor Oak will always be there to congratulate you when you reach your dreams.

IN NO PARTICULAR ORDER ( because my mind is so scattered - ) special shout outs to special people: 

@timecapscle - wasn’t it you that said i’d one day get 1,000 followers? : ) you’ve literally supported me since the beginning and i just wanna say that i appreciate your enthusiasm for professor oak as much as i appreciate your enthusiasm for bill. its wonderful to see someone represent an otherwise under represented character and you do it well. i care for you so much, and wish nothing but good things for your future even if you want to do bad things in the name of science

@diligentseeker / @evolutionexpert  - someone i consider a cherished friend, despite how sporadic our interaction seems, i appreciate all our random long talks on discord, and i’ll never forget our very first conversation. it meant a lot to me, and i want to thank you. i dont meet a lot of ppl that i feel ‘get’ me on some unspoken level, so when it happens, its a nice surprise. anyway i won’t ramble because i take it you’re not one for praise, but im glad people like you exist. with that being said please stop making professor elm stress me out.

@undinaes - the moment you’ve been waiting for. SIKE! just kidding; its no surprise that you’re always filling my dash with testimonials from people that see you for what you are. you’re a beam of sunshine with all the qualities to match; warm, bright, and a natural source of energy that brings people together. your passion for writing is astounding and even when ppl dont deserve your kindness, you’re unbiased in giving it out. truly a mom through and through. but most importantly, ur my girlie and im glad we met :v

@ofpalletown - in my mind, you are practically ash, and ill be here to support you even during all your moments of Extra™ ... but aside from that you’re very loyal to your friends and full of something sunny that i can’t describe. ur gonna be okay, kid. so pls stop stressing out ur dear prof oak 

@03redd - i probably mentioned not long ago that your blog is really good, but ill say it again in case you weren’t listening. i love your blog? its very fun to follow, and i think you’re one of my favorite reds. even with me not being game verse, its so easy to just immerse myself in whatever nonsense you have red drag professor oak into. i dig your creative energy. 

@normaliium - and ofc i cant leave out my cousin. the one to be admired, the ever-successful, brilliant human being that loves me even when i take off ten years of your life each night. my life would lack such substance without you, and i will never forget all you’ve done to help me when i would otherwise be left to myself. you make me really proud to know you, you really do, and everyone i ever talk to you about can attest to that. #YOLO

@bossgiovanni - you haven’t been active in forever, but you remain one of my friends and that’s all that matters. from skype to discord, im glad we could stick together even with our blatant differences in opinion. you are always so nice to me and say the kindest things, and i just wanna say thanks. hope youve been doing well! you are capable of so much, and i believe in you, so don’t forget that. 

@agentmansley - can i jsut say thank you for staying true to your muse and throwing even the purest of characters into your mess? i have loved your blog long before i made professor oak, and you’re seriously one of the funnest people i’ve rp’d with here. everything i’ve written with you is refreshing and new, and never fails to make me laugh. thank you for your love for kent, and also for writing with me. i know you’ve been MIA for a while, but you’re definitely a memorable person. 

@tcssaiga - i dont have a lot of cross-fandom interactions so when they happen im usually pleased. you’ve got great characterization, and have perfect dialogue. i never watched a whole lot of inuyasha but i’ve atched enough to know that you’re pretty close to canon. thanks for the interactions even if you’re mean to prof oak on archer ; (

@askgarymfoak - MY LITTLE ACORN!!!! the dedication you have for gary honestly gives me so much life, and i love rping with you on discord and just yelling about sam / gary hcs. its always a highlight of my day and i can tell you’ve thought about gary and his life long and hard, and its so cool to see someone interested in all that makes him the Headache we all recognize and love. please never stop sharing with me the personal hcs you have for the boy, i always want to hear them. 

@futureheld - we don’t even rp with each other on this muse BUT youre one of my longest tumblr rp friends that i still talk to and you’re really important to me. we have history, we go back!!!! okay? #FRIENDSHIP n all that. but tbh id follow you on any muse because your writing is just great? id write any weird crossover with you because you have a talent for making it work seamlessly anyway. thanks 4 the memories, loser. 

@seviiserver - CELIO!!! we dont talk as much as we used to, or rather, we talk in bursts every now and then but i consider you one of my good friends! not only are u really talented in all things artistic, but i love your writing and it’s always enjoyable to read, even if its not one of our threads together. you made me have so much adoration for celio and like all the other ppl ive met who bring life to underrated / under-rp’d muses, i enjoy seeing everything you pour into him... AND ALSO I LOVE OUR OAK / ROWAN INTERACTIONS? i love them so much it hurts okay. even if its just silliness in discord it brightens my day. anyway perhaps one day we will cross paths in this sleepless city and i will finally teach u how to ride a bike.

@rottenrhythms - i know i dont have much to say or comment with whenever you message me on discord, but i admire how much detail you put into your characters and meta. im always impressed with all the work and thought you put into your world-building; i wish i had that much drive. also, you’ve made a lot of improvement with yourself from the time i first started talking to you on skype. be proud of your progress, and keep working at it, it’s worth it in the long run!

@lack--two NATE youre definitely a very sweet person, and perhaps a little more devious ooc than i’d imagined you would be ( at least to me, why must you poke me for reactions? ; ( u wound me ) but you’re a soothing presence to be around and im glad you were finally able to make discord work. bonus points for letting me yell about yugioh all the time. never stop being wonderful. im here for you whenever you might need a listening ear, okay? 

@loyalpika / @palletbloomer - #PRIKA!!! ever since i first followed you i remembered being blown away by your extensive headcanons on pikachu and i genuinely enjoy every blog you make! we dont talk OOC but from all your ooc posts you seem like a very caring older sister and thats nice to see; with you running around all the time, i hope you do get some rest every now and then! i hope our camaraderie never falters, take care friend! 

@thepkmnnurse - i cant forget all the love and support both you and your muse have for professor oak, and im happy you try to spread positivity on the dash whenever you can! we don’t talk much OOC but from what i can tell you’re just as kind and nurturing as nurse joy herself. i hope you’ve been taking it easy wherever you are, and i hope your days are bright!

@rebelracket - will there ever be a day that i dont enjoy seeing your delinquent muse causing havoc on the dash? your creativity is wonderful to witness and i enjoy clarissa so much, thank you for interacting with a pure ol’ muse like mine. i hope we can continue to keep writing together, im excited at where we might end up. p.s. your art is delightful.

@porttownprince - you’re a gentle presence on my dash but im glad that youre here and that you’ve stuck around despite all the bad things that followed you. i hope you can overcome all the trauma you’ve been through. thank you for being kind with me!

@nikkouki - i know i dont say much but i enjoy your random check ins with me on discord, and i think youre a sweet young girl. you’re gonna go far in life, just make sure you keep going! continue being a precious kiddo and don’t forget to study your japanese ; (

@viciousvainglory & @midoriyamight - i cant think of one without the other so accept this double-tag lol. you’ve both supported this blog since the beginning and i wont forget how welcome you made me feel! no matter what blogs you’re on im glad we can still be friends! you deserve the big toblerone! 

@fateandfury - my long time writing parter without knowing we were long time writing partners! the work you put into professor juniper is something to behold! we haven’t seemed to interact much despite rping professor muses, but that doesn’t mean i don’t appreciate your take on such a muse!

OTHER BLOGS TO BE ADMIRED ( also in no particular oder) : @sterlingsilverchampion @starmarkcd @pxgtails @satanstories @champofpallet @golden-oak @spriggaens @nurturen @florenselite @craniumaniac @ask-guzma @tenderpoison @gocatchem @faemoria @hikaup@writtenbykaichu @executiveariana @honoxtokage @simikami @bigcalavera @rotorotom @thehopcful @and-they-succeeded @metalprincess13 @keep-those-memories-away @hisvanity @attitxde @asmayflies @sesshcmaru @theagentlooker @ambcrly @kantocowboy @dauphindekalos @beareroftheblueorb @blastingxff @aquaelegance @bugeyesboutique @make-it-trouble  @thunderstonereject  @theagentlooker @soultattered @scvedbylove  @diluviumx @inevitabilis-sors @pokedouche @fightiniumz @firespun

I’M SO SORRY IF I MISSED PEOPLE, THIS IS REALLY HARD FOR SOMEONE SO SCATTER-BRAINED AND MEMORY-FOGGED AS ME. EVEN IF YOU’RE NOT INCLUDED AND EVEN IF WE’RE NOT MUTUALS, I REALLY APPRECIATE YOUR SUPPORT OF THIS BLOG. WITHOUT ANY OF YOU I WOULDN’T HAVE GOTTEN HERE.

BE ON THE LOOKOUT FOR A GIVEAWAY!!!

THANK YOU SO MUCH!

[jbankai89]

Not Quite to Plan (2/3 of Lover’s Walk Series)

Not Quite To Plan

Sirius had not quite planned it this way.

When he'd envisioned telling the world—or his family, at least—that he was involved with a wonderful man who also happened to be his godson, what he thought would happen turned out to be very different from what actually transpired.

For one, he would be awake, and for two, he would have had clothes on.

When Remus—dear Remus with his keen eyes, endearing bookishness, and proclivity for danger—actually did find out, Sirius was not awake, nor was he clothed.

What he was, was in bed on that peaceful Sunday morning, a thin blanket draped haphazardly across his hips, and curled up with his young lover, their legs akimbo, and neither man left anything to the imagination of what they had been up to the night before.

Remus was quiet and thoughtful, as was his nature (ironic, all things considered) but that particular morning, the morning after the full moon, no less, everything that Remus was had been replaced with a different emotion—blind panic.

And that was how Remus burst into the master bedroom, crying Sirius's name, and rousing both men in an instant.

They shot up in bed, and Remus skidded to a halt in the frame of their bedroom door as his eyes went almost comically wide.

“Oh. My. God.”

“Oh, damn it,” was Harry's only response.

Remus's brow quivered, caught somewhere between shock and a scowl, and his eyes flitted to Sirius. Sirius noted that Remus was wearing clothes that did not belong to him, he was pale and swaying slightly from exhaustion, and there was a long scratch high on his cheek. Considering the way Remus was staring at them as though he'd just witnessed a murder scene however, Sirius found it a little difficult to feel particularly sympathetic towards him at the moment.

“Let me guess,” Sirius said dryly, albeit somewhat groggily, “Sirius Orion Black, by all the saints what have you done, you've defiled your godson and ruined your relationship with him, blah, blah, blah, how could you, et cetera, et cetera, you wait until Molly finds out she is going to murder you, and so on and so on...am I warm?”

“Put some trousers on and come to the drawing room,” he said, his brow furrowing with annoyance, but he did not move from his spot, as though certain Sirius might further corrupt Harry if he turned his back.

In truth, he wasn't exactly that far off the mark.

Harry and Sirius exchanged a look, and grinned at each other. Sirius's was closer to a smirk, but the look did elicit another reaction from Remus, who rolled his eyes and stared at the ceiling as the pair slid from the tangle of blankets and meandered over to the wardrobe at a leisurely pace, completely unconcerned that Remus Lupin was watching the entire scene.

They dressed in relative silence, and out of the corner of his eye Sirius could see Remus's look of abject horror become more pronounced when he saw just how jumbled together their clothes were in the wardrobe. It was a small sign that this had been going on for quite some time (fourteen months, in fact) and was not a new or spur-of-the-moment thing.

This seemed to alarm him more than the fact that he had caught them in bed together, and after the two men had tugged on some clothes (Harry in jeans and a T-shirt, Sirius in pyjamas and a dressing gown) they headed down to the drawing room.

The couple walked ahead of Moony, and Sirius felt tempted to tease his last surviving friend a little more, and reached for Harry's hand. Harry swatted it away with a glare that clearly said, don't push it.

The trio stopped at the door to the drawing room, and Harry huffed a small sigh.

“I'll get some breakfast going, you two feel free to debate how I'm just a child and can't possibly know what I really want and so on. Yeah?”

“Sounds good,” Sirius replied as he pecked Harry's lips in a kiss before the younger man could stop him, and he saw Moony out of the corner of his eye go even redder at the familiar touch. “Don't be long, lover.”

Harry rolled his eyes and strode away, not looking back once as he disappeared into the kitchen.

“You've had a bad influence on him,” Remus said, his voice shaking a little, though Sirius couldn't honestly tell whether it was disapproval, disgust, or both he was hearing in his voice. “He's starting to sound like you.”

“Yeah,” Sirius said, a wistful note in his voice, “great, isn't it? Took ages to get him to stop sounding like a Weasley.”

“Sirius, this is serious,” Remus said forcefully, and Sirius arched an eyebrow at him. “I mean it. He's twenty-two years old. You're in your forties. He's just starting out in life, and do I even need to mention that he's your godson? What the hell were you thinking?”

“It's not like we're actually related, Moony,” Sirius pointed out, “and you should probably ask Harry that, rather than me, given that he's the one who made the first move.”

“It doesn't matter who made the first move,” Remus replied, his tone on the cusp of snide, “you are the older one. You are the one who's supposed to be mature and make the right decisions, not let your godson seduce you!”

“In my defence, he is very hard to resist,” Sirius retorted with an air of amusement, and Remus pursed his lips.

“That is not funny, Padfoot. You need to break it off with him, this isn't healthy, you're taking advantage of him, Harry's never had a real family, he's starved for affection, and—”

“—and Sirius's affection is quite nice, thank you,” Harry interrupted as he strolled into the drawing room bearing a platter of toast, eggs, and tea, as well as three plates. Remus scowled again, and Sirius immediately bent forward to prod the scrunched up skin between Remus's eyebrows.

“Don't scowl like that, Moony, you'll get wrinkles.”

“How is it that you're so wrinkle-free?” Harry asked as he set down the platter on the table and sat next to Sirius. “You're the same age, but...”

“An enormous trust fund from a dead relative, a lover who's half my age, no children, and I'm not married to an accident-prone Metamorphmagus.”

Remus's scowl deepened.

“All right, Remus, look,” Harry said as Sirius busied himself with serving up the food, ���I know it's not exactly...correct, but I'm not fifteen anymore, we're both consenting adults, and we're happy. Why is it so wrong?”

“He was best friends with your father,” Remus said stubbornly as he crossed his arms, “that should have been enough of a deterrent. You may as well be shagging your uncle.”

“Yeah, but I'm not,” Harry emphasized, and placed a hand on Sirius's thigh. It was not a sexual move, but a protective one, one which pulled a smile to the surface of Sirius's expression, and a frown to Remus's. “That's the point, Remus. I didn't know Sirius 'til I was thirteen, and we didn't have a proper relationship until after the war was over, when I was nearly eighteen. I...” Harry trailed off, and Sirius dropped his gaze to Harry's hand on him, and watched the fabric bunch up under his fingers as he clenched his hand into a fist. “I didn't know him for a long time, not properly, and when I started figuring out who I was and what I wanted...”

Harry turned to Sirius with a bright, sunny smile. Sirius all but felt his heart melt at the expression, and wholly unconcerned that Remus was watching, he took Harry's hand and their fingers threaded together. Remus's complexion seemed to curdle at the sight.

“Sirius,” Remus tried again, “please, I implore you two to see reason. This isn't right. You know this isn't right. You can't do this, it's not healthy.”

“Remus,” Sirius began, his tone almost grave in its seriousness. Harry's mouth quirked at the corners, clearly amused by Sirius's tone—it was quite rare for him to actually speak about their relationship in such a serious matter, completely devoid of jokes or innuendo. “You are my best friend. Your opinion matters to me—it always has. You're The Dad Friend. If it weren't for you, I'd probably be dead by now. You were the one who talked James and I out of marrying each other for the tax benefits when Lily nearly broke it off with him, you're the one who went running to McGonagall when James and I planned to try muggle bungee jumping off the Quidditch goalposts, and you're the one who married my cousin who is thirteen years younger than you and then had a baby with her. So really, you're not exactly one to talk.”

Sirius moved to wrap his arms around Harry, and this time the younger man allowed it, while Sirius never broke eye contact with the werewolf. “I love Harry. I love him more than anything else in this life. On the outside, I'm sure it looks strange, and maybe even a little bit criminal, but you know what? I don't care. He and I are both adults, and we can make our own decisions. If you don't like it, then piss off, because neither of us plan on ending this any time soon.”

“That remains to be seen, how adult you are,” Remus muttered as he crossed his arms stiffly, and continued to scowl at the pair of them.

“If we're going to discuss adult responsibility and decorum, need I point out that it was you who burst into our flat unannounced, at the crack of dawn—” Sirius began, but Remus was quick to cut him off.

“That was because I had taken a new experimental version of Wolfsbane last night and I woke up round the corner in an alley, with no idea how I got there!” Remus protested hotly, “I just wanted to rest here before Apparating home when I saw you two—”

“You could have knocked,” Sirius retorted in the same tone, “look, I'm sorry for that happening to you, you know I am, but bursting in on us—”

“If I hadn't, you two would still be living in sin—”

“Living in Sin,” Sirius sneered, “oh, that's rich, coming from you—”

“Fingers on lips!” Harry suddenly yelled, drawing both Remus and Sirius from their argument. He was holding a finger up to his mouth in an indication for them both to be quiet, and when neither man reacted beyond falling silent, he raised his eyebrows in an obvious hint.

Smiling with amusement, Sirius obeyed, and Remus grudgingly followed suit.

“Now,” Harry said in a soft voice as he lowered his finger away from his mouth, “Remus, would you care to tell us what it is that has you so distressed about our relationship?”

“Harry,” he began as he, too, lowered his finger, but his tone was harsh and accusatory. “This is completely inappropriate. If you don't break this off—”

“What, Hermione?” Harry asked with something close to a sneer in his voice. Sirius's eyebrows shot up in surprise at his tone. “Are you going to go running to Mrs Weasley? Or McGonagall? What do you think they'll do? McGonagall can't give me detention over this, and we are more than capable of constructing a bunker to ride out Mrs Weasley's tirade of righteous indignation. Have you lot all forgotten that I am not a kid?”

“I haven't,” Sirius chimed in, his hand falling to rest on Harry's thigh, and offered the limb a small squeeze. Remus rolled his eyes again.

“This is beyond inappropriate!” Remus sputtered, and Sirius pursed his lips. As much as he loved Moony, he was beginning to sound like a broken record—a very annoying broken record, at that. “Harry, please, you've been through so much, why would you wish to make you life harder—”

Sirius and Harry exchanged a look. Remus's face went very pink.

“Is my life harder, Sirius?” Harry asked him with a sickly-sweet false innocence in his tone.

“Certainly less flaccid,” Sirius replied smoothly, and both men snorted, while Remus scowled again.

“That is not funny,” the werewolf interjected, and Remus crossed his arms.

“It was a little funny,” Sirius replied, and Harry masked a laugh under a false cough. The older man stifled a small yawn, and stretched, using the move to drape an arm over Harry's shoulders and draw him closer.  “Look, what will it take to make you to piss off until a more reasonable hour when both of us are more awake? You can lecture us then, if you're so inclined. But it's barely half-six, and I haven't been up this early since our schooldays. It's playing havoc with my beauty rest. It's no small feat, always being the handsomest person in the room, let me tell you.”

“I'm not going anywhere until I talk you two out of—” Remus began, but this time Sirius ignored him.

“Fine, stay here then,” Sirius interjected, and stood up, discarding his barely-touched breakfast. Even his stomach hadn't woken up yet. He turned to his young lover, and stretched out a hand to him. “Harry? Care to join me?”

“That's not app—”

“Get stuffed, Moony,” Sirius retorted grumpily, finally hitting the end of his tether with his friend's attitude. “If I want to sleep in the same bed as my significant other, that's my business.”

Harry didn't answer, but frowned at Sirius a little. He took his hand nonetheless, and ignored Remus's stuttering half-protests as he led the older man from the room and back to their bedroom.

“I need you to cool it with being so antagonistic towards Remus,” Harry said gently as he tugged Sirius down onto the bed. They sat close enough that their thighs touched, and Harry closed both hands over one of Sirius's. “I know you wanted this to come out, and...well...that wasn't exactly how I pictured telling him, but you getting all defensive and snippy isn't helping.”

“I just don't like hearing him pick apart our relationship like he thinks he knows better because he's married and has a little snot monster running around...” Sirius grumbled as he disentangled his hands from Harry's to wrap his arms around the younger man's waist, and draw him closer.

“I believe they call them children these days, Sirius,” Harry replied with a soft chuckle as he reached up to link his hands at the back of the older man's neck. “Look, I know part of this delightful attitude of yours is that you're a right cranky arse when you're woken up too early. So just go back to sleep, and I'll talk with Remus on my own, yeah?”

Sirius leant in to kiss him. It a was barely more than a light peck, but after the frustrating talk with Moony, it felt as passionate as a deep kiss. Harry reached up to stroke his cheek, and when he pulled back from the kiss, the younger man was smiling brightly.

“You sure you want to face the beast on your own?” Sirius asked uncertainly, and Harry chuckled warmly.

“If you're worried he's going to talk me out of our torrid relationship, don't worry. I'm in it for the long haul, and Remus bleating about how immoral it is won't change anything.” Harry kissed him again. “Go to sleep, we'll talk properly about what we wanna do next when you wake up.”

“I cannot believe you just used a sheep metaphor to describe a werewolf,” Sirius retorted, and Harry chuckled softly. “Lie with me for a few minutes, at least?”

“Can't sleep without me, eh?” Harry teased as he flopped down on the bed heavily, and Sirius tossed aside his dressing gown before lying down next to him.

“Do you remember that sodding wizarding defence embassy thing in Greece last month?” Sirius asked as he drew Harry close. “I was without you for a whole three days. Didn't sleep a wink.”

“Hmm, I don't know about that,” Harry replied while he cocked his head to the side thoughtfully. “I have all these vivid memories of lots of mirror sex. Me wanking for you, you wanking for me...”

“Yes, well, all the other times I didn't sleep at all,” Sirius retorted, and tightened his arms around Harry. “You're better than a Sleeping Draught.”

“Hmm,” Harry intoned as he kissed the older man gently, tenderly, and reached up to trail his fingers through Sirius's hair. “So are you saying that I'm so boring that I put you to sleep, or that I'm so comforting that you just relax around me?”

“You know which it is, you twit,” Sirius replied as he leant in for another kiss. Harry let out a small sigh of contentment as he returned it, his hand moving from Sirius's hair to his cheek, stroking the line of his jaw with gentle touches. Sirius stifled a cavernous yawn, and Harry chuckled as he drew him close.

“Come on, sleep, and I'll go keep the stubborn werewolf occupied, yeah?”

Too tired to offer up any sort of retort, Sirius finally allowed his head to slump against his pillow as he fell back to sleep.

 ~*~

 When Sirius next woke it was nearly noon, and the flat was silent. He'd half-expected to hear some sort of bickering or arguing, and the quiet came as something of a surprise.

He rubbed a hand over his face, dispelling the last of his fatigue as he rolled out of bed, stretching and cracking his aging bones as he went.

Sirius took his time readying himself to face Moony again. He showered, changed into real clothes, and  stood in front of the mirror for a full ten minutes, changing the stray grey hairs that he found back to dark brown—just because he was older than Harry didn't mean he needed to look that much older.

 When he at last made his way to the sitting room, he found Harry alone on the sofa with a cup of coffee and a book open across his knees. Remus was nowhere to be seen.

As he stepped farther into the space, Harry turned and offered him a warm smile. “Morning.”

“Morning,” Sirius replied as he swept in to peck Harry lightly on the lips. “Where's the world's most annoying werewolf?”

“He gave up about an hour ago when I started describing our sexual exploits in intricate detail,” Harry explained with a wicked grin. “In particular that time I fucked you in the chair he happened to be sitting in. He got fed up and left. I doubt he'll be gone too long though—he's probably just gone to bleach his trousers and use a Memory Charm on himself.”

“No, because Mr Moral High Ground needs to impart his sodding wisdom on us horrid sexual deviants...” Sirius grumbled as he flopped down next to Harry, and his young lover chuckled as he abandoned his book and drink to snuggle closer to Sirius instead.

“Be fair, he means well. He's just worried, that's all.”

“It's more than that, Harry,” Sirius mumbled as he automatically wrapped an arm around Harry's waist to draw him closer. “I hate how it feels like he's judging me because he's married and has a kid, and I just have...well, you.”

“Your young adult lover?” Harry teased, and Sirius chuckled weakly. “He doesn't think less of you, I'm sure...”

“Doesn't he?” Sirius asked, a note of bitter sadness in his voice that made Harry frown. “I mean, he has his whole life together now. He's got an Order of Merlin, First Class, he's head of the Werewolf Liaisons Office at the Ministry, He's got a house, and a wife, and a kid, and I've spent twelve years in Azkaban, then a few years on the run and in hiding, and I've been a free man for barely five years. I don't even know how to be the kind of adult Moony is—”

“—Sirius, no one is asking you to be like Remus!” Harry protested, and his gaze whipped to the younger man, his eyes wide at Harry's near-desperate tone of voice. Before he could say a word, Harry clambered into Sirius's lap, straddled his hips, and kissed him hard.

Sirius's hands fell automatically to Harry's hips as he kissed the young man back, but Harry ended the kiss much sooner than Sirius would have liked as he sat back up and smiled at Sirius warmly.

“I know I wouldn't be half as crazy about you as I am if you were more mature and grown up, or whatever other stupid thing you have stomping around your brain,” Harry said softly. “It's not some sort of race to see who can be the most boring adult first. You have your priorities, and he has his. He wants to be a good husband and father—that is a thing that he wants. It doesn't mean he thinks you should be like him. He just has this stupid idea that you somehow convinced me—or, to use his word, coerced me into this relationship of ours, and my I made the first move, I love him, piss off, responses were pretty much ignored.”

“Despite that mild-mannered attitude, he's always been stubborn as hell,” Sirius muttered. “I just hate that it feels like he's judging us because of this. I never really expected people finding out to feel so...bad.”

“I do remember warning you about ten thousand times about this...” Harry teased, and Sirius snorted.

“What should we do if Remus returns with Molly or Hermione or both in tow?” Sirius asked, arching a brow at Harry as he spoke.

“Run?”

“Some Gryffindor you are.”

Harry opened his mouth to respond, when at the same moment a firm knock sounded from the front door.

Both Harry and Sirius groaned, their heads bowing forward almost in unison as they braced their heads upon each other's shoulders.

“Which do you want?” Harry mumbled, “tea detail or door detail?”

“Tea,” Sirius answered at once, “you can face the beast.”

Chuckling, Harry stood up and headed for the door, while Sirius hastened to the kitchen to put together a platter of tea (in his favourite cranberry-coloured teapot) and biscuits. It took less than five minutes, and as he carried it back to the sitting room, he saw not just Harry and Remus, but Hermione as well, who appeared quite confused as to why she was there.

“Good news,” Harry said with an exaggerated grin as Sirius set the platter down and joined Harry on the sofa. “Remus has learned how doors work. Quite the revelation—apparently, knocking is how to get it to open, not just bursting through them at the crack of dawn.”

Remus narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms, but both Harry and Sirius ignored the look as they went about serving up the tea. Sirius was careful to leave a large gap in Remus's cup for his usual obscene amount of milk and sugar, while the others he filled right to the brim. Once everyone had their cups, it was Hermione who broke the silence.

“So is anyone going to tell me what's going on?” she asked uncertainly, “Remus barged over to my and Ron's flat and insisted that there was something I needed to see, and brought me here.”

“He didn't tell you?” Harry asked, blinking in confusion as he stared across at her. She shook her head as she took a sip of her tea.

“I didn't think she'd believe me if I just told her,” Remus explained stiffly. “She needed to see it for herself.”

“Is this about Harry and Sirius being together?” Hermione asked innocently, and Sirius just barely managed to bite back a laugh when Remus's milky tea came flying out of his nose.

“How on earth do you know?” Remus demanded, albeit a little hoarsely as he mopped tea from him face, “did Harry tell you?”

“Harry most certainly did not,” Harry said, and Sirius chuckled softly.

“Be fair, they haven't been exactly subtle about it,” Hermione said as she giggled, and this time, Sirius blinked in confusion.

“We haven't?” Harry and Sirius asked at the same time, then paused and glanced at each other as Hermione giggled again.

“You two are so obviously head over heels for each other. It's as plain as day,” Hermione explained, pointedly ignoring Remus's growing look of horror at what Hermione was saying. “Also, when I visited to help Harry pack for your trip a few months ago, I could see you two snogging in the kitchen. I waited until it looked like you'd finished before I interrupted, I think you would have completely forgotten I was even there otherwise.”

“How—how can you be okay with this?” Remus sputtered as he turned away from Harry and Sirius, and focused on Hermione. “Harry is half Sirius's age! They should both be with people more appropriate—”

“—like who,” Sirius interrupted with a sneer, “a nice little witch in her forties, maybe a single mum, and make more babies? We're not hurting anyone, Moony, when are you going to leave this alone?”

“Harry is—” Remus began, but this time it seemed as though Harry had had enough.

“Oh for the love of all that is holy—Remus, I am not a fucking child!” Harry half-yelled, his voice so strong in its indignation that it made the werewolf jump in surprise. “I am twenty-two years old. Twenty-two. Not twelve, not fifteen, twenty-two. Legally, physically, and emotionally I am what is commonly referred to as an adult. Sirius had never once treated me like a little kid, or coddled me, or anything. We're equals in every sense of the word. Just because he's a little bit older than me doesn't change anything. I love him, he loves me, and if you can't take it, then get the hell out of our home, and don't come back until you've smartened up. I've had enough of listening you talk as if I'm some stupid kid who has no idea what he's saying.”

Harry pointed to the front door, and absolute quiet followed his words. Remus appeared to have been shocked into silence, and he sat, staring blankly at Harry as though he couldn't believe what he was hearing. Despite his strong, assured voice as he had spoke, Sirius could feel Harry trembling minutely next to him, and he wrapped a protective arm around the younger man's waist. Immediately he calmed, but did not shift his gaze from his former professor. His arm relaxed into his lap, but Harry's look of anger did not fade from his face.

“Harry, please,” Remus said, though his tone had gone from firm and certain to feeble and plaintive. It was a sound that Sirius knew well—he was losing the argument, and knew it. “I beg you to see reason. This isn't healthy, it—”

“—how is it unhealthy, specifically?” he interrupted. “What aspects of our relationship, which you have known about for barely six hours, do you see as problematic? Spell it out as though I were a total idiot. Do you see any indications that I'm being abused, sexually or otherwise? Do you see Sirius controlling me in some unhealthy manner? Am I some how dramatically changed, and not in a good way?” Harry arched a brow at Remus, and the werewolf frowned at him. “Or is it the gay thing? You don't approve because we're two blokes, but you're too politically correct to say it?”

“Sirius will know better than most that it is most assuredly not the gay thing, as you put it,” Remus said stiffly, and Harry shifted his gaze to Sirius, his brow cocked in question.

“We shagged for most of our sixth and seventh years,” Sirius responded without missing a beat, and bit the inside of his cheek when he saw the way Remus turned a blotchy red at the deadpan, casual explanation.

“So what is it, then? Seriously, Remus, what is it that bothers you so much?” Harry asked, his eyes wide and questioning, as though he'd somehow reverted back to a curious student, and not the young adult that he was.

“It is not appropriate for a man his age to be touching you and having sex with you,” Remus said firmly, and crossed his arms as his glare shifted from Harry to Sirius. In response, Sirius tightened the arm around Harry, and he leant into the touch, while at the same time reaching out to offer Sirius's knee a gentle squeeze.

“You and Tonks have a pretty big age gap, but you don't hear either of us giving you a hard time about it,” Harry pointed out, and Remus gritted his teeth in clear frustration. Sirius couldn't completely blame him for the reaction—he was sure that trying to argue with them was like trying to argue with a brick wall.

However, now the arguments were going in circles, and knowing how stubborn Remus could be, Sirius could not see it ending any time soon. With a heavy sigh, he reluctantly untangled himself from Harry and stood up, closing the distance between himself and his last surviving friend.

“Moony, you have said your piece, now I would like you to leave,” Sirius said firmly. Remus's eyes widened with shock at his tone, and his lips parted immediately to protest. Sirius got there first. “Until you have something more to say than pass blanket judgment on me and Harry for our slightly unconventional relationship, I do not want you here. You have your own family, and I will not just sit here and listen to you try and tell me that my life is wrong, simply because you refuse to approve of it. Out. Now.”

Remus looked as though he'd been slapped. He gaped at Sirius, his mouth opening and closing silently like a fish out of water. Sirius did not back down, but held his ground as he waited, and ever so slowly Remus got up from his seat with a heavy, defeated sigh, and Sirius marched him to the door.

“Sirius—” Remus began as they stood on the threshold, and he gazed at Sirius imploringly. “I—please...”

“Good day, Remus,” Sirius replied stiffly. “Send me an owl when you've gotten over being such a judgmental arse.”

Without another word, Sirius shunted his friend the rest of the way out the door, and slammed it in his face.

The same moment that the door slammed, Sirius heard the distinct whoosh of the Floo, indicating that Hermione had taken her leave as well.

Sirius shifted the lock on the door, and shuffled back to the sitting room, where Harry was trading the tea tray for two tumblers and a bottle of scotch.

“What have I done?” Sirius asked with a groan as he slumped down next to Harry on the sofa, “Moony is never going to speak to me again...”

“You'd rather he hang around and make a pest of himself?” Harry asked as he poured out a measure of the drink for each of them, and pressed one of the glasses into Sirius's hand. “I feel like he'd keep nagging us until either we kicked him out or we gave in.”

“It's one of Moony's qualities,” Sirius muttered as he sipped at the drink. The burn was soothing, and made him feel warm, though not terribly relaxed. “I'm just so knackered already and it's barely noon...”

“Want me to make it better?” Harry asked in a soft, flirtatious voice, and Sirius snorted into his glass.

“Not your best chat-up line...” Sirius retorted teasingly, and Harry laughed a little.

“Well, I was planning on saving that for later, but I was thinking more along the lines of letting me do your hair,” Harry explained as he reached up and twined his fingers through a lock, and offered Sirius a warm smile.

Sirius grinned, and he knew that that was all the answer Harry needed.

 ~*~

 Harry had a number of hidden talents that his friends did not know about—his secret desire to abandon Auror training and become a pastry chef, his deep love of body shots (but only if Sirius was involved), and most endearingly, his obsession with playing with Sirius's hair.

It had become most apparent after a vigorous session of lovemaking, and Sirius looked like a cat had taken up residence on his head that Harry would laugh, draw him close, and begin to gently work out the tangles by hand, instead of using magic.

Sirius had never had his hair done without magic prior to that moment. With magic, it always took less than thirty seconds to fix it, and he could go on with his day. He had never quite imagined how such a small act could feel so deeply intimate, strengthen their relationship, and somehow make it better. Harry's hands were like artist's hands, and he could wield a comb with as much precision as defensive magic—and Sirius loved it.

 Harry had summoned the office chair they often used for these sessions, and conjured a black basin with a dip in the side for Sirius to lay his neck on comfortably. Harry layered a towel over it before he coaxed Sirius to lie back, and he listened to the soft rush of water from the manoeuvrable spout, as Harry wet his hair, and reached for the hair potion.

“Oh no,” Harry said with a soft, lamenting lilt to his voice, his fingers buried in Sirius's hair as he worked the potion into a lather, and Sirius's eyes snapped open.

“What?”

“You've coloured your grey again,” Harry said, and Sirius snorted.

“I don't need a visual representation of my advanced age, thank you,” Sirius replied, and Harry laughed a little as his nimble fingers massaged Sirius's scalp, sending him back to an advanced state of relaxation.

“I think it makes you look distinguished,” Harry replied, “like a silver fox or something. I like it.”

“Just you wait until you start going grey,” Sirius muttered as Harry laughed again, “it doesn't feel very distinguished.”

“By then you'll be a wrinkly old raisin with white hair—” Harry teased as he rinsed the potion from his hair, and reached for another, “but you'll still be beautiful to me.”

“Is anyone beautiful when they're that old?” Sirius asked as he scrunched up his nose, and Harry laughed as he massaged the conditioning potion into his locks.

“You will be,” Harry said with unabashed certainty as he massaged the thick salve into his hair, then began to work out the minor tangles. “You're beautiful at every age. I know you'll be beautiful at eighty, and ninety, and one hundred...”

“All right, enough,” Sirius cut in as he laughed, “you might have a thing for prime, aged cock, but I have yet to acquire that particular taste.”

Harry chuckled, but offered up no reply as he rinsed the salve from his hair and squeezed it out before he wrapped it in a towel and helped his lover sit up. He vanished the basin and manually dried Sirius's hair until it was damp, but not soaking, and draped the towel over his shoulders before he reached up to card his fingers through Sirius's thick locks. Sirius let out a soft groan close to a purr, and he heard Harry chuckle behind him.

“I love your hair,” Harry said reverently as he ran his fingers through it, “if you ever come home with it cut really short I'll probably cry, just to warn you.”

“So no buzz cuts, then?” Sirius teased, his eyes shut as he focused on the delicious feeling of Harry's fingers weaving through his locks, and the younger man let out a cry as though he'd been mortally wounded.

“It would be a travesty!” Harry protested as his fingers stilled in his hair. “Sirius, don't you dare, I mean it.”

“I think we both know I'm far too pretty to look that butch,” Sirius teased, and tilted his head back to look up at Harry with a warm smile. Harry returned it immediately, and bowed forward to kiss him gently. His hand cradled Sirius's chin as though he were precious, while the other remained in his hair, combing through the long locks gently as they kissed.

As though Harry could sense when Sirius began to get a crick in his neck, he pulled back, licking his lips like Sirius was a taste he wished to savour. Quite suddenly, Sirius had absolutely no desire to continue doing his hair, and longed to just drag Harry into another kiss. It was a trial to remain still.

“I thought I'd braid your hair,” Harry said in a rough, rushed tone, “one of the herringbone ones that you like.”

“I swear to God, Harry, you should just quit the Aurors and become a hair stylist,” Sirius remarked as he nodded to Harry's suggestion, and watched the younger man pick up a comb from the side table to work out the rest of the minor tangles. “You'd do so well. You're good at this, and there's the added bonus that I won't need to as obsessively worry that you'll get yourself killed at work.

“You say that now, but I can see the Daily Prophet article—Harry Potter Murdered by Angry Witch with a Bad Perm.”

“Ah, well maybe the muggle way is better—”

“—I have a feeling chemical burns are worse, since you can't exactly mend it with the flick of a wand,” Harry pointed out in a mild tone, his fingers moving deftly as he twined Sirius's hair into the braid, and the older man chuckled a little at the remark.

“Well, it was just a suggestion,” Sirius replied with a small shrug, “Auror or Hair Stylist, you do whatever you like.”

“I always do,” Harry replied in the same voice, and Sirius frowned. Something about the way Harry spoke was bothering him, but he waited until he had proclaimed that he'd finished before Sirius spun in the chair to face his young lover.

Harry faltered in his clearing up, and eyed Sirius uncertainly. Sirius had no such qualms, and promptly tugged Harry into his lap.

“Are you all right, Harry?” Sirius asked, raising his eyebrows at him in a way that told Harry that he wanted an honest answer.

“'Course I am,” Harry replied quickly—too quickly, Sirius noted—“why wouldn't I be?”

“It's just that every time we talk about life stuff, you get...well, not tetchy, but weirdly sarcastic.”

“Weirdly sarcastic?” Harry repeated back at him, and Sirius nodded. “How d'you mean weirdly sarcastic?”

“Well, whenever we talk about your Auror training, or I say something like, you should do this instead, because you're good at it, you always have a smart remark about it. It's a little worrying, that's all.”

After their confrontation with Moony, Sirius could feel that both of them were a little raw and emotionally exhausted. Defending their relationship had been harder than Sirius had expected, and he could see the similar weariness reflected in Harry's eyes. He wanted nothing more than to pull Harry close and forget this day had ever happened, but at the same time it felt as though hashing out all their issues at once might be a good thing—free them, somehow, from all the bollocks that had been bogging them down.

“Let me get a cuppa tea, then we can talk,” Harry said with a small sigh of defeat, “you want one too?”

Sirius nodded as he stood up, banishing the chair to its usual place in their study, and leant in to brush his lips over Harry's in the ghost of a kiss. He could feel Harry shiver a little, and he pulled Sirius in for a real kiss before he pulled back abruptly and darted towards the kitchen without looking back.

Sirius eased down onto their sofa as he waited for Harry to return. Clearly, beyond Remus finding out what had happened, something was bothering Harry, and Sirius felt that distinct ache of guilt in the pit of his stomach for not having noticed it earlier. He knew that Harry could have had the tea ready in mere moments, but instead it seemed that he was doing it manually, perhaps psyching himself up for talking to Sirius—he wasn't entirely certain.

At last Harry returned, and he did indeed look a little nervous. Sirius arranged his face into something that he hoped looked neutral, though if Harry noticed, he did not comment on it one way or the other. He bore two mugs in his hands—one was the clear glass mug that Sirius favoured for his morning coffee, and the other was a simple ceramic mug in deep burgundy that always gave the impression of a more grown-up and distinguished version of the famed Gryffindor shade.

Moving Sirius like a shop-window dummy, Harry shifted him until he lay upon the sofa, and after handing Sirius his cup of tea, Harry settled down between his legs.

“I kept meaning to talk to you about this, but I didn't know exactly how,” Harry began, punctuating his words with a sip of the soothing beverage. “Remus finding out about us put me on edge, and honestly I really didn't expect him to react as badly as he did. He was so...judgmental. I never pegged him for being like that.”

“He always wanted nothing more than to be a totally normal wizard,” Sirius explained gently, “he never reacted well to things outside what he considered normal because of his issues with how he sees himself. It took him a very long time to accept himself as a wizard and werewolf, and he still struggles with it sometimes. Really, it's not against you, or us, though I agree his holier-than-thou attitude I could definitely go without experiencing again.”

Harry chuckled as he reached out to squeeze Sirius's arm affectionately. In return Sirius kissed his shoulder, and wrapped his free arm more securely around his young lover.

“Now enough beating around the bush—tell me what's wrong.”

Sirius's straightforward command made Harry sag with defeat. He stared off into space, and at first Sirius suspected that he was doddling, but after a moment he realized that like before, Harry was trying to gather his thoughts and formulate them into an explanation that made sense.

“When I was in school, the only real career I thought about was being an Auror,” Harry began, his tone halting and awkward, “and then the war happened, and when it was over, people talked at me about how well I would do in the Auror program, and how perfect I was for it, and Hermione got off my back about finishing school when I decided to jump right into training...”

Sirius could all but hear the but as Harry trailed off.

“But...?” Sirius prompted when Harry did not immediately speak.

“But I don't think it's what I really want,” Harry replied in a rush, and he seemed to sag with relief after he'd voiced it. “I kept going with it because everyone from Mrs Weasley, to Ron and Hermione, to all my other school friends and the other Order members...they just all expected it of me. I once—once—mentioned to Hermione that I wasn't sure that it was what I wanted to do, and she just got so upset with me, like I'd told her I'd opened a restaurant that served babies or something. She just went on and on about how we needed to make a difference and be in the right places to affect change and all that rot, never mind that all I ever wanted to be was unnoticed, and fade into obscurity. I make the papers if I sneeze. She's famous too, after all the stuff we did during the war, but she's not famous how I am. I just...I don't want to do something important, or be some sort of figurehead, I just want to have a life that I enjoy, not one that's full of expectations like this...”

“Harry, if you were this miserable, why didn't you tell me sooner?” Sirius asked gently, abandoning his tea in favour of wrapping both arms around Harry's middle securely. Harry leant back into the embrace, but still held fast to his own mug.

“I'm not really miserable,” Harry explained, “I mean, the coursework and things is interesting, but after killing one dark wizard, I just can't picture doing it for the rest of my life. There are other things I enjoy beyond just Quidditch and Defence, but I can't even explore them because Hermione or one of the others will jump down my throat over it—like how Remus did today with finding out about us. It's not their business what I do, or what we do, but somehow they decide that it is. It's so frustrating.”

“You are in charge of you,” Sirius said gently, and kissed the top of his shoulder. “I don't give a rat's arse if Merlin himself rose from the grave to tell you to become an Auror, if you don't want to do it, then don't. You'll just wind up miserable.”

“But what else could I do?” Harry asked, and Sirius felt his heart ache at the lost, uncertain tone with which he spoke.

“Well, you could be a philanthropist, or a gentleman of leisure. Or we could get married and really piss off Hermione by calling you my househusband.” Sirius grinned when Harry snorted, and offered him another gentle squeeze.

“Yeah she nearly murdered Ron when he teasingly asked her if she'd ever be a housewife like Molly...I don't think Hermione would do well with domesticity, she's too ambitious for that, to say the least.”

“More likely she'd become Minister at some point, and Ron would take up the role of staying home with the babies,” Sirius quipped, and Harry laughed again. As the laughter died down, Sirius returned to his original point. “But there's a million things. You could breed thestrals with Hagrid, or stop him from crossbreeding ostriches and hummingbirds, or whatever weird cross-species he's working on this time—you could open a salon, you could become a pastry chef, coach children's Quidditch, er...” Sirius racked his brain for more ideas. “Oooh, you could always become a sex toy tester.”

 “Sex Toy Tester?” Harry asked between giggles, “is that even a thing?”

“Of course it is,” Sirius replied, which only succeeded in making Harry laugh again. “Every product needs to be tested, and the best part is you'd never have to get out of bed again.”

“And there's always the added bonus of you can help me test them...” Harry said as he set aside his half-empty mug and turned over in Sirius's embrace, a coy smile playing across his lips.

“Hmm...I'm starting to really like this idea...” Sirius purred as he drew Harry in for a kiss, “I've always wanted to try those day-long anal plugs...”

“Imagining you walking around all day with a plug in is so hot...” Harry replied, his voice escaping him as a moan, “imagine riding your motorbike with one in...” Sirius groaned this time, and bit down on Harry's lower lip gently, tugging on it before he kissed him again.

“Oh, baby, I love how filthy your mind is...” Sirius murmured as he tugged Harry closer—

Only to be interrupted by a small squeak, which he would have mistaken for a mouse, had it not been for the masculine, distinctively human lilt to the voice.

Or werewolf, as the case may be.

Harry turned from Sirius, a strange mixture of a whine and a groan escaping him as he shifted his gaze to the fire, where Remus's head was perched, his eyes wide with surprise. Even through the fire, Sirius could see that his face was bright red.

I swear, Remus has the worst fucking timing in the universe.

“I...er...” Remus began, and his flush seemed to only worsen when both Harry and Sirius reached down to adjust how their groins sat in order to make their twin erections less noticeable.

“You've already interrupted us, so you may as well come through,” Sirius said with a grumble.

“If he says one word against our relationship, I'm turning him into a shrubbery,” Harry hissed, and Sirius bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing as the green, spinning form of his last surviving friend appeared in their fireplace, mere seconds before the man himself was sprawled across their hearth.

“You've managed to leave us alone for nearly three hours,” Sirius said, his voice heavy with disdain that would have made his mother almost proud. Remus winced at the sound of it as he stood up and brushed himself off, though his gaze never managed to make it all the way to their faces. “Did you come up with a new argument as to why we're not allowed to be together, or are you just going to parrot everything that you said to us earlier?”

“I came to say I'm sorry,” Remus said, and his amber gaze snapped up to lock with Sirius's grey one. “I told Dora what had happened...”

“Oh, balls,” Harry hissed, but Sirius smirked a little at this admission. He had a feeling that he knew how this story would end.

“...and she hit me with Teddy's toy broomstick.” Remus finished, and winced as he reached for the back of his head, no doubt where there would be a big bump as proof. “She claimed that everyone's known for months that you two are...” Remus flushed a deep scarlet again, cleared his throat, and continued. “Apparently, some of the Weasleys have been taking bets as to when you two will admit openly about...it...and Molly keeps talking about how it's been so long since they've had a wedding...” again, Remus cut himself off, a look of minor unease registering upon his face. “I suppose I was the only one who didn't know.”

“A new record, considering you're usually so keen-eyed when it comes to secrets like this,” Sirius said with the same sneering tone, and Harry elbowed him gently in an obvious hint to shut him up.

“I'm sorry,” Remus repeated, his gaze flicking from Harry to Sirius and back again, indicating that he meant the apology to go to both of them. “Seeing you two this morning...it was a shock, to say the least. I wasn't exactly expecting to find you two like that. But...you're happy?”

Sirius smiled, remnants of the Remus Lupin he had known for so long shone through this new, more mature version of himself. Sirius wrapped his arms around Harry, and the younger man mirrored the embrace at once.

“We are,” Harry confirmed, and Sirius nodded in agreement.

“This is the happiest I've ever been, Moony,” Sirius added, and he saw the briefest flicker of guilt register in Remus's eyes, as though finally realizing that there was nothing sick about their involvement.

“Will you...tell me about it?” Remus asked uncertainly, “I want to understand.”

Sirius exchanged a look with Harry. They had been right in the middle of something—or close to it, at least, but Moony's quick turnaround, at least to Sirius, said that they needed to take this time, and not brush him off.

Harry seemed to feel the same, and offered Sirius a small smile and nod.

Over more tea, the whole story came out. Harry told most of it, almost bouncing excitedly in his seat as he spoke. Sirius had never heard Harry's side of their story, and it was endearingly sweet how Harry only began to notice him when Charlie had made casual passes at him at Harry's birthday, but little did he know that Sirius had never had eyes for anyone but Harry.

Even now, more than a year into their relationship, Sirius could recall the days and sleepless nights following the war as he watched Harry grow from a boy into a man—a gay man, and a handsome one, at that.

Sirius remembered the months of vivid nightmares, where Harry would wake screaming, tears pouring down his face, convinced that Voldemort had somehow returned, or he witnessed graphic reenactments of the deaths of his loved ones—Cedric, Dumbledore, Moody, Dobby, Fred—even Snape, for some strange reason, though Harry had never told him why the slimy git was making guest appearances in his dreams.

Sirius would console him, allow Harry to cling to him, childlike, shaking violently as he rode out the aftershocks of his nightmares. Some nights, Harry would shyly ask to share his bed, and once again, Harry seemed as though he had regressed to that of a young child, in desperate need of closeness and affection. There was nothing sexual about it, and Sirius regarded Harry as nothing more than his adult godson, who was more damaged by the war than he ever let on to his friends.

But as time passed, the platonic aspect of their relationship, that line Sirius hadn't been even aware of, began to blur.

He began to see Harry differently, and at first, he hated himself for it. He was a handsome young man, struggling through the trauma the war had left upon his mind, and Sirius was a lonely older man, whose pool of friends had shrunk significantly after Remus married Tonks and had little Teddy.

Sirius swore to himself that he'd not be the one to make the first move—he refused to risk their relationship like that, especially when Harry seemed to depend on him so much.

But when Harry had burst into their shared flat one day, nearly a full year after Sirius's feelings had first begun to change, his face set with determination, Sirius was subject to the shock of his life when Harry strode over to him purposefully, and kissed him hard on the mouth.

As first kisses went, it wasn't the greatest they'd ever had, but they'd long since made up for it.

“I dunno what else to say,” Harry said, his voice drawing Sirius out of his memories, and he smiled warmly at the way Harry stared down at his knees, a bashful smile upon his face, and his cheeks pink, but with joy, and not embarrassment. “We just...work. It's been so good, and I'm so happy, but I was really scared of people finding out. I didn't want you lot to think Sirius pushed me into this, when it wasn't like that at all.”

Harry's hand found his, and Sirius squeezed it firmly. A warm, tingling sensation seemed to wash through his body. Sirius felt it from his cheeks to his thighs, and he longed to drag Harry close. However, Remus seemed to be teetering between concern and acceptance, and he had a feeling that such a display of affection would not tip the scales in their favour at the moment.

“I've loved Harry for a long time in a way that I felt I shouldn't,” Sirius added, his voice a little rough from the emotions coursing through him. “I had no reason to deny him when he came to me. It's been pretty much perfect ever since. I've never been in a relationship this...comfortable.”

“I'm happy for you, I am,” Remus said, and it sounded as though he meant it, too. His mouth quirked into a mischievous smile that Sirius had not seen since their Marauder days, and his gaze shifted to Harry. “As the token best friend, I do believe it's my sworn duty to threaten you with bodily harm if you hurt him. Understand, Harry?”

Harry snorted as Sirius barked a laugh, while Moony offered them both a reserved smile.

“Yes, Remus,” Harry said as he calmed down, “I won't hurt him, I swear.”

“That's the most prim and proper variation of if you hurt him I will beat you to death with a shovel I have ever heard,” Sirius remarked, and this time Remus chuckled in response.

“Well, as you so eloquently pointed out last time, I am the Dad Friend, it's my duty to sound stuffy and no fun, right?” Remus teased in the same mild tone he always spoke in, and the couple laughed again.

“Do you ever let down your hair, Remus?” Harry asked suddenly between chuckles, and Sirius smirked.

“A bottle of bourbon and a few glasses of scotch, and Remus will give you a strip show you won't soon forge—” Sirius began, just as Remus flicked his wand at him, silencing him, but it was too late, and Harry was clutching his ribs as he howled with laughter, the former professor beet-red with embarrassment.

“Harry does not need to know about that, Sirius,” Remus said, his face still very red, and voice barely audible above Harry's continuous shouts of laughter. Unable to speak, Sirius merely offered his friend a wicked grin. “Harry, if you repeat that story to anyone—especially Dora, I will kill you.”

Remus flicked his wand at Sirius, returning his voice to him, while the couple exchanged wicked grins. Remus did not look particularly cheered by the look they exchanged.

 ~*~

 For the rest of the afternoon and well into the evening the trio chatted amiably, and Remus only left when he mentioned that he'd promised to cook tonight for Tonks and Teddy, and took his leave. It was one of the best afternoons Sirius could recall having. Though he longed for Remus to leave so that he and Harry could celebrate their coming out, so to speak, properly, he hadn't the heart to make Remus leave—especially now that it was quite clear that they could go public with their relationship without fear.

Once Remus finally did leave, Sirius had little thought beyond begging Harry for an early night, but his lover insisted they at least have dinner first.

Sirius was entirely unhelpful, as usual, and leant against the edge of the table in a pair of tight jeans and a fitted button-down shirt opened at the chest, which had the desired effect of completely distracting Harry from cooking, and thus nearly burned their dinner—twice.

“You need to stop doing that,” Harry said when they finally sat down to eat, and with Sirius's mouth full of fish, he raised his eyebrows at Harry with a look of mock innocence that the younger man did not buy for a second.

“Doing what?” Sirius asked innocently once he'd swallowed, and Harry snorted.

“Dressing like a wet dream come to life,” Harry said. “It makes it impossible to think on anything else except wanting to rip your clothes off and shag you senseless.”

“And that's bad because...?”

“It's bad when I'm at the cooker,” Harry said as he kicked him lightly under the table. “I'd rather not burn our building down.”

“You are no fun,” Sirius teased as he hooked his ankle around Harry's, “the whole point is that I'd rather you eat me than fish and salad.”

“You are so getting punished tonight for being such a brat,” Harry retorted, his mouth twitching into a similar smile to Sirius's.

Sirius grinned.

“Good.”

 ~*~

 By the time Sirius had tumbled into bed with Harry on top of him, he was quite certain that Harry had been determined to torture him as much as humanly possible first. Harry asked Sirius to clear up—which he did without complaint—then he insisted on an evening tea, then he wanted to tidy the flat, all the while smirking at his lover knowingly, making it clear that he knew exactly what all the waiting was doing to him.

When Sirius's back did at last hit the mattress, he could have sung with joy. Harry's mouth covered his with a rough, needy kiss, and Sirius groaned as he returned it with equal enthusiasm. His hands buried themselves into Harry's tousled hair, and Harry's fingers went to the tie at the base of Sirius's braid. With a few gentle tugs it unravelled itself, and Sirius's long hair fanned out across the coverlet.

“Fuck, Sirius,” Harry whispered as he straddled the older man and kissed him again, “I love you. I love you so much—”

“Love you too, Harry, Gods...” he cut himself off with a groan as Harry dug the heel of his palm into the growing erection beneath his jeans, and he let out a soft cry before he dragged Harry to him again, and dug his fingers under the hem of the young man's T-shirt, then dragged it up and off.

Sirius leant forward to kiss at Harry's throat, and grunted when Harry stopped him short and pressed him back into the mattress.

“No, no, no...” Harry said, his voice teasing and sing-song. “You were a total pest all evening, you need to be properly punished...”

“Harry,” Sirius groaned as Harry pinned his arms above his head, “don't do this to me...”

Harry ignored the feeble plea, and kissed him hard, his hand fastening around Sirius's wrists to pin them above his head. He shifted his grip to hold onto Sirius with one hand, and used the other to deftly unbutton the sleek shirt he'd worn to taunt and tease Harry for the bulk of the evening.

Sirius tried to ignore the faint tickle of the lift and fall of the garment as Harry thumbed open the buttons, the silk brushing his chest like butterfly kisses. The light contact was driving Sirius close to madness, and he squirmed beneath Harry, his hips arching in an obvious hint, but Harry merely pulled back from their heated kiss to offer the older man a wicked grin, and arched out of his reach.

“Harry, you little arsehole,” Sirius said with an anguished moan as though he was inflicting Sirius with physical pain, “stop teasing me!”

“Why should I?” Harry asked sweetly, and used his wand to discard the shirt the rest of the way so that he would not have to let go of Sirius. “I told you, you need to be punished.”

“Oh, please,” Sirius said with a derisive snort, “you know you won't be able to hold out to properly punish me...”

Harry arched a brow at him.

“Is that a challenge, Mr Black?”

Something about Harry's sudden shift to a silky tone unnervingly similar to how Snape's had been made him shiver. Sirius had a feeling that he was in deep trouble.

Sirius opened and closed his mouth several times, but no sound came out. When Harry's mouth slid into an evil smirk, he whimpered audibly.

“Incarcerous.”

Sirius cried out in surprise as his wrists snapped together and his legs sprang apart, while thin ropes affixed themselves to the bedposts at the end of the bed as well as the headboard, binding Sirius in place securely.

“Harry!” Sirius cried indignantly, “let me go!”

Harry responded with another grin as he straddled Sirius, his arse perched lightly upon the obvious bulge in the older man's tight jeans.

“I told you,” Harry said as he leant forward to offer Sirius a light kiss, “you need to be punished. I'd spank you, but you'd enjoy that too much. So you get to watch me until I feel like you've suffered enough.”

“Are you sure that that Horcrux is really completely gone from that brain of yours?” Sirius asked dryly, and Harry swatted his chest lightly.

“Quiet, you,” Harry said as he slid off of Sirius, and stood up momentarily to kick off his jeans and boxer-briefs before he settled back down on the end of the bed and began to stroke himself. Sirius felt his cock positively ache at the sight. He squirmed and moaned as though agonized at the thought of being tied down like this, but they both knew that if he was in any real distress, he would just spout his safeword—cheesecake—and Harry would stop.

“Harry...” Sirius whimpered, squirming in his bindings as Harry brushed his thumb over the leaking tip, “please...”

“Oh, I love it when you beg...” Harry said with a moan as he tilted his head back a little, but kept his eyes fixed on Sirius. “Your bottom lip gets all quivery, and it's just so fucking adorable...”

Sirius bit his bottom lip and glared at his young lover, who answered with another grin, and resumed strong his cock.

“Fucking hell,” Sirius groaned, “Harry, please, I'm sorry, all right? Just fuck me already or I'm going to explode.”

“Isn't exploding the whole point?” Harry teased, his voice becoming a little breathless as he continued to stare at Sirius. Sirius scowled, and the younger man snorted.

With a soft sigh, Harry let go of his erection, and crawled back over to Sirius. He straddled him again before he bowed his body forward, blanketing the larger man with his lithe form. Sirius's arms twitched, longing to embrace Harry, but his young lover did not seem to feel inclined to release him just yet.

As they snogged, Sirius saw Harry lift his wand out of the corner of his eye, and shivered when his jeans and pants vanished. Harry chuckled at the reaction, and rubbed his hands up and down Sirius's pale thighs gently.

“Ready?” Harry murmured between kisses, and Sirius groaned.

“Yes.”

Chuckling again, Harry pulled back a little and flicked his wand once, followed by a quick jab.

The first wand movement summoned the lubricant from their bedside table, and the second freed Sirius's ankles. He immediately took advantage of his newfound mobility by hooking his legs around Harry's waist, and he drew him close.

“I can't prepare you if you're holding me like that,” Harry protested with a laugh, but still leant back in to kiss him again. Their mouths moulded together on instinct, and not for the first time, Sirius was struck with the sheer rightness of being with Harry like this.

“Sorry, Harry,” Sirius murmured between kisses, “you're just so hard to resist...”

Both giggling like schoolchildren, Sirius finally let Harry go and he watched with a lazy, but aroused smile as Harry unscrewed the lid of the jar and dipped his fingers into the clear gel.

His arse seemed to tingle with anticipation as he watched Harry adjust his position, and brush the slick fingers teasingly over his entrance.

Sirius immediately moaned, and Harry's mouth quirked into a smile as he pressed the digits gently against his arse, and ever so slowly, breached the entrance.

Sirius's eyes fluttered shut and he relaxed against the mattress as he spread his legs wider in invitation. He heard Harry chuckle, but offered up no other response as he pressed the fingers in farther, gently scissoring him and stretching him. Sirius let out a soft groan as he tried to bear down on the digits, but his wrists still bound to the headboard stopped him from going very far.

“Harry,” Sirius groaned, but did not open his eyes, “please...”

This time, thankfully, Harry did not respond with a teasing remark, but instead removed his fingers and moved into position between his parted thighs. He heard Harry mumble something, and he assumed that it was a counter-curse, given the way his wrists sprang apart following it.

“Look at me,” Harry commanded, and Sirius's eyes immediately snapped open.

Harry's eyes were darkened with lust, and he was smiling at Sirius with unabashed love. In one, Sirius felt both loved and desired; the protector and protected. Never in his life did he expect to find a love quite like this, and as always, he was deeply grateful now that he'd found it.

Sirius let out a tiny groan as Harry began to slide himself into the older man, and he relaxed on instinct, welcoming Harry into his body wholeheartedly.

When Harry had fully sheathed himself inside of Sirius, the older man instinctively hooked his legs around his waist, holding him in place. Both men were panting softly but sharply, and Sirius arched up to kiss Harry deeply, their tongues tangling together messily as they strove to taste the other as thoroughly as they could. As they kissed, Harry began to move.

Harry rocked his hips slowly at first, and Sirius followed his movements easily, their mouths parting, but only by a few centimetres. Sirius stared up at Harry dazedly, and Harry responded with a small smirk as he sped up his thrusts.

Sirius fell back onto the bed, grunting and rocking his hips with Harry, his fingers reaching up to thread through the fabric of the duvet, both their bodies shiny and slippery with sweat, and the room silent, save for the soft grunts and groans as they moved together.

Harry found his release first, and Sirius moaned as he felt the wet heat fill him. The younger man continued to move, breathing harshly as one hand lifted from Sirius's waist to close around his cock, stroking him to orgasm.

Sirius came with a cry, and as his seed flooded onto Harry's hand and dotted his abdomen, he felt every muscle in his body immediately relax.

Harry slumped forward as he pulled out of him, lying on top of Sirius comfortably. He was panting softly, but smiling, the perfect picture of contentment.

Sirius reached up to stroke his hair, and smiled indulgently at the way his fingers disappeared into the thick locks. Harry purred like a contented cat, and slid off of Sirius to curl up into his side, while Sirius took to the task of cleaning them up of their respective messes with a quick flick of his wand.

“You were brilliant,” Sirius murmured as he leant in to kiss the top of Harry's head, “I love it when you get all forceful like that.”

“I love that you let me,” Harry mumbled sleepily, “before you, my few experiments were always exclusively tops, and they got all weird about bottoming. I like that you're...” he paused, his brow furrowing before he said, “analdextrous.”

Sirius snorted loudly, clapping a hand over his mouth to stop himself from spraying Harry with spit, while the younger man grinned up at him widely.

“I cannot believe that you just said that,” Sirius said as he howled with laughter, “Gods, I dare you to use that word in front of Moony. I want to see just how red he gets...”

“Oh my God,” Harry cackled, “he would never speak to us again...” he grinned wickedly, “consider it done.”

Still giggling, they shimmied under the covers and curled up together, both still radiating sleepy contentment as they got comfortable. Harry let out a small sigh and curled into his arms, the younger man's head resting lightly against Sirius's bicep as he smiled up at the older man with warm adoration.

“This was the longest day I've ever had,” Sirius said softly as he kissed Harry's forehead, just above his scar. “I liked how it ended, though.”

“Even better,” Harry added in a similar tone, “now we know that we can show up at the next Weasley gathering together-together, and neither of us will be harassed for it.”

“I hope the next one is soon,” Sirius murmured as he rested a knuckle under Harry's chin, tilting his head up to kiss him lightly. “I can't wait to show you off.”

 -Fin

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