#how you learned this stuff and then give you a biscuit and some tea or something

[antheshewro]

A few random headcanons about Attack on Titan characters that make sense in my mind (even if some are truly random idk):

Levi – In terms of his personal appearance and grooming, we can say that he is canonically very attentive to it. I picture him being very meticulous when it comes to his nails and especially shaving his face. In his free time, he still visits the Underground and brings basic necessities to children and families. On the Surface, he always helps, if he can, homeless people. After the war and once he became a retired veteran, he began to smoke even though it repulsed him. It was, however, a great way to calm his nerves.

Erwin — There were stray cats wandering around the backyard of the headquarters and he fed them regularly, to the point they started to settle there and became a feline colony. Hange, Moblit and Miche may have or have not helped him. A man that every single woman wanted to marry, or would have wanted as a son-in-law. He was tempted to let his facial hair grow, when he let it grow after he lost an arm, but at the end decided against it.

Moblit — He always reminded me of Armin, and just like him, he would probably spend hours inside the library to read while drinking tea. A very calm and quiet guy, well liked by the ladies as well, though he never felt like they would be interested in him. A morning guy who would like bread with butter and cherry jam for breakfast.

Hange — Has read "The Metamorphosis" by Kafka and asked themselves for weeks if the protagonist was a big roach or a small roach. Sleep talks, learned how to fix things by themselves even though it would end up with them having at least one small cut. Likes spicy food but regrets eating it every single time.

Miche — Very much into trekking, walking in the countryside, camping and all that stuff. Cooking meat on a fire in the middle of a forest, fishing with bare hands, hunting but only to feed himself. I can see that he's one who would build a birdhouse and replenish it with food periodically.

Nanaba — At least two Scouts told her that she was the perfect combination of Erwin (she's blonde with blue eyes) and Levi (her haircut and features). A big flirt with women, if a man is annoying a lady at the tavern she would step up no matter if the said guy is twice her size.

Oluo — His haircut is clearly an attempt to copy Levi's own. He said, to himself, "Nanaba has a similar one, I can do it" and ended up with... that. He also tried to hold teacups like Levi does, but they slipped from his fingers. He broke three of them in the span of a few weeks.

Petra — Massive dog lover, especially those small chihuahuas with big ears and a fluffy body. If Birkenstock were a thing in Paradis, she would've owned a green pair.

Pyxis — As a young man, he had tons of women around him. A flirt but not to the point he would cheat on his wife (since he's canonically married). And when he still had hair on his head, he was clearly blonde.

Keith Shadis — A massive Jägerbomb and Jägermeister drinker. He smoked cigars to unwind as he took breaks from his paperwork, and since he didn't want his subordinates to know that he smoked, he blamed that it was someone else smoking near him. Also–stay with me on this, he gives me massive Egyptian vibes. If he was from outside the walls, that is.

Nile Dok — He has the aura of someone who despite living in Karanes, he faked a posh accent at some point so people wouldn't say that he was from that part of Wall Rose. Having a wife and daughters, he understood women pretty well but would say "Yeah, and I have a bi-cycle" when Marie would get her period. You got that? Marie had her cycle and Nile had a bi-cycle... dad jokes would be his thing

Dhalis Zachary — Remember that chair of his? He probably would enjoy splatter horror movies. The human centipede

Theo Magath — A guy who has a sweet tooth. Likes dark chocolate and butter biscuits with his black coffee. People at the Warriors Headquarters–Porco–bothered him to kill the cockroaches that entered the bathroom when summertime arrived.

General Calvi — An Italian surname, which makes me headcanon him as Italian. Picture him as "Saverio Giovanni Calvi" (I went with old Italian male names), and for his political party, he was a Marleyan who hated Eldians. I don't think I have to add anything else to this.

Niccolò — If we have to keep in mind that he was from Marley and hated Paradisians and Eldians, he reminds me of a person from Northern Italy that hates the South and calls them terroni uncultured and unmannered. In Paradis, after the war and after he realized he was no better than the islanders, taught himself how to cook the typical dishes, especially the venison that Sasha's father would hunt for his restaurant. Likes old Italian movies and he isn't fond of cooking dessert.

Reiner — Likes to water plans at the Warriors Headquarters and helps the staff members to clean up if he can. Takes sleeping drops and wanted to learn to play guitar, at some point. Despite the fact that people think he is in love with Historia, I think he loves her like gays love Lady Gaga.

Bring me the horizon Bertholdt — Tried to eat sand as a kid to see if it tasted like breadcrumbs. It didn't. He spent hours building a sandcastle until Porco destroyed it, along with his brother Marcel. Reiner helped him build it back, along with Pieck and an older Zeke. Likes to eat ice cream alone, at the park, and was a good student.

Annie — Liked to hit little boys as a kid, especially when they would tug on Pieck's hair and call her names. One day, she slapped a boy so hard, his glasses flew away. No, that wasn't Zeke.

Pieck — Massive caffeine addict, but she's now numb to it and can sleep even if she drinks four cups a day and gives her the shits. Likes nightgowns and always has well manicured fingernails.

Porco — One of those guys that act like big shots but a "your mama" joke is enough to shut them up. And whenever he teases someone and that person has a better comeback, he grumbles and leaves.

Zeke — If he has time, he helps the local animal shelters in Liberio. Has books about dinosaurs, and he was obsessed with them as a kid. Also a child who went to the supermarket and he put the products back in their place if other customers grabbed them and left in another spot–the label HAS to face him.

Sasha — As a Southern girlie, she knew every single folk dance and song, and she invited her friends at least once to the village festivals in Dauper.

Jean — When in season 4 we see him with facial hair and longer hair, it took him forever to grow them out. At some point, Connie teased him saying that he must've glued a rat on his head, and Jean slapped the back of his neck.

Connie — Sneaks out of his room to have a midnight snack but he's so loud, he wakes the entire headquarters up. Hange doesn't have the guts to send him back to bed, but Levi surely does. His real name? Constantine.

Armin — A guy that claims to love nature but the moment an insect lands on his shirt, he would pass out. Cockroaches, dragonflies, crickets, grasshoppers. You name it. But he likes bunnies–the reason why he never ate rabbit meat, if served. Politely declining and saying that it upsets his stomach. After the war, he embraced veganism or vegetarianism.

Mikasa — We know that she liked ice cream once she tried it in Marley, and I would say she likes black cherry one, lemon, vanilla and peach, but her weakness would be berries. Likes to take walks, alone, and if she goes to the cemetery to bring flowers to Sasha and she finds a tomb without flowers, she personally plucks a few and offers them to these poor souls.

Eren — He likes to go for walks by the sea, and he always carries bread with him to offer to the seagulls. When they pooped on his shirt, he got annoyed and stopped for a while. Also tried to throw stones and seashells at them to take revenge of that.

Historia — As a Queen, she tends to sleeps late. She doesn't care and she sleeps in, if she could. Still visits the orphanages, and once her daughter was old enough, she brought her to play with those kids to teach her inclusivity and equality.

Ymir — During her time as a Scout, she would be having massive fights with Oluo. She couldn't help it. She hated his ass, and if it wasn't for Historia, she would've beat him up. But she would find Nanaba to be bearable, and even Petra—as harmless as she was.

Yelena — Let me hold your hand when I say: her deep voice with a Russian accent. A woman who doesn't like to shave, a big and massive lesbian. If she didn't enlist in the Marleyan troops, she would've been a Marine.

Onyankopon — A true gentleman, ladies loved him in Marley. He's religious, but after the Rumbling, I feel like he lost his faith for a lot of reasons. Though, before the war, he was usually going to church every now and then and he did volunteer work.

Gabi — Have you seen the scene where she basically suplexed Falco? If she kicked or punched a few Marleyan soldiers that were calling her "midget", it wouldn't surprise me.

Falco — A good kid at school, always polite and respectful. The one who prevented Gabi from talking back to teachers, and even to Magath.

Onyankopon — Has an entire journal filled with labels of the teas he tries—but also herbal teas. He loves collecting and started as a child with coins and bottle caps. If he doesn't know what to say during a conversation, he would chuckle and go, "It's cold/hot today, isn't it?" even though it isn't. Plus, he gives me massive Englishman vibes—can't decide if he's a Londoner or from the North.

Willy Tybur — Has five kids, loves his wife but he slept around. 100%. Due to the influence he had in Marley and the fact that no one could go against him, if he left his illegitimate children, the women couldn't say anything about it.

Grisha Jaeger — Kept a journal where he scribbled his memories from Marley, so he wouldn't forget them. Also, bad at cooking. He tried once and almost burned the kitchen down.

Carla Jaeger — When she was a waitress, she always had the attention of both men and women. And since she wore lipstick, I can see that she would always be very fond of makeup. Complimenting the other women for their appearances–to flirt or not, that was up to one's interpretation.

Kenny Ackerman — If classic rock was a thing, he would've been a diehard fan of rock bands. He was a chain-smoker, liked to drink intense liquors and never got tipsy right away. Has a Southern accent, never been religious, but a fervid supporter of "the end justifies the means". When he became the legal guardian of Levi and he would soil the bed, he would walk out of the house to calm himself down and not yell at him.

Kuchel Ackerman — A woman that was very refined and elegant. I can see her having books about romance, with fantasy settings. She's the one who taught Levi how to properly handle his personal hygiene, a reason why his clients liked her–she was very well kept. She secretly smoked.

Furlan — A guy that attracted his fair share of ladies in the Underground. Always have a part of his food to Isabel, liked to brush her hair and retrieve knick-knacks she would like, and that she ended up losing.

Isabel — Another cat fan. She went around the Underground to feed the stray cats, and she had brought one back home, to the place she shared with Levi and Furlan. It didn't last much, due to Levi not liking cat hair around the place, but she secretly kept it in her room. They knew due to the smell of cat and the tiny mewls at night.

Hitch — One of the most liked girls in her branch of the Military Police. She had at least one date each week, dated a few guys. She also had a flirt with a girl, and she had to admit that it was something she couldn't ignore. Blunt and straightforward enough to be men's worst nightmare.

Floch — No surprise when we say that he would be a big misogynist. Preaching about women finding fulfillment if they got married and had kids. A guy who would laugh if your pet dies because "it's just a dog/cat/whatever it is", but he's a pathetic yearner if he falls in love. The thing is, more than half of the women he was interested in didn't give a damn about him.

Sorry if it's a bit too long and if I missed any character but I was bored and here's the result of that ★

[yaxfeiiii]

So,your headcanons for supa strikas? I wanna hear it.

Damn so this is gonna be the first time im gonna make some headcanons about the strikas,so this is what my headcanon and opinion about them :

•Dancing rasta has a dream to make a cooking show but in my universe he did have a cooking show and a cooking book special for the super league to know his barbecue recipes

•Twisting tiger can draw a bit or some doodles because he watched many animes and his favorite is captain Tsubasa,ghibli’s,dragon ball z (maybe thats how he got the idea to put his hair up so he could be tall),demon slayer,and bleach and he always tells shakes to join him watch them

•I KNOW EL-MATADOR WATCH THOSE KIM KARDASHIAN SHOWS OR CELBRITIY SHOWS AND WILL GO “this is stupid! That outfit is soo last year” or “ugh! I know that rumor was fake! They think they can hide it? BAH!” while drinking his tea and eat some biscuits (he will also say “theyre so dramatic without knowing he also did that in living the el life) also he always shares to his fans about his diet food and skincare routines but they have to pay because thats a secret thing to feel the beauty~

•cool joe…my god…I KNOW THAT MEN LOVES MICHAEL JACKSON AND LIONEL RICHIE.also this guy have many vintage disc,stuff,and clothes

•North shaw will go feral if he founds a new place to surf in the world or a tropical awesome paradise.if coach gives him that “you can go for a holiday but only for-“ north will go with his bags without let coach finish his sentence and that makes coach always frustrated but he knows he cant stop him

•Klaus oh god KLAUS!? This boy is so precious in the team like bro😭only god knows how this men grows up with that pure and innocent and KIND PERSONALITY!?This men tried everything to be in every conversation in the strikas if cool joe tells a them to hear a new song at night klaus will search and learn the artist so he can talk to every strikas without them teasing him,he loves his aunt so much and his cousins because there this thing inside me that bugs me saying like klaus lives with his aunt from high school to collage because his mom wants him to be a city boy AND ALSO THIS GUY CAME FROM THE VILLAGE SO THATS MY REASON WHY HIS MOM ASK HIS AUNT TO RAISE HIM IN THE CITY

•Shakes,if you stole his video game controller he would have a spare one and if you stole that too he would play his nintendo switch and if you also steal that he would play his little game boy.thats how my boy cope his problems okay? So please let him

•blok,RAHHHHHHHHHH AHHHH this boy is so precious to me too:( i know he is the youngest and attack is the big brother type also you guys remember his teddy bear? Yeah in the wiki it says that he has 2 and their name was Cheringham and Aristotle but the teddy bear we always see in the show is Cheringham please dont attack me on this one but Cheringham is a representation of his late mom 🙂 i know! I know! This is a “huh?” Headcanon but trust me i can see it and also his dad isnt abusive he just cant get over his mom death and as for Aristotle is a representation of attack because he misses his brother too.now you know why he sleeps with those two furballs because he wants to keep his loved ones in his hands and imagine them hugging him back in everyway and thats why he want to swim to the lake to get Cheringham back in season 4 eps 49 in stumble on the jungle.

•Big bo is batman in the strika world.

(Im so happy i can make my first headcanon and im sorry if my english is bad)

[toomuchracket]

thinking about early flatmate domestic stuff… like him knowing exactly how she likes her tea, having movie nights with m&s picky bits (my own personal fantasy hehe), maybe going for a wander around manchester and picking out some new records or him sitting outside the changing room while she tries on 57 different tops (and him not being able to help her choose one cuz he fancies her in all of them), just lovely coexistence <333

he doesn't just know how you like your tea, he can tell from your facial expression or a single sigh that you really want a cuppa, and he'll wordlessly sneak off to the kitchen to make you one and bring it to you (with a handful of biscuits, of course), and even though you're so smart you never realise he's learned the signs of you needing tea and you're always surprised and extremely grateful to get one from him; he loves the way you look at him in those moments, like he's your favourite person in the world (he is. he just doesn't know that), and he'd give you all the cups of tea in the world just to keep you looking at him that way. you get into a little routine on a wednesday night, when he's home, in which he'll have a tea ready for you coming in from your classes, which you'll do armed with a bag chock-full of m&s food to eat while you watch a movie (you take turns choosing which) or a couple of episodes of whatever it is you're watching together - sometimes, if either you or matty are feeling down at all, a blanket fort will magically find its way into the living room, but more often than not it's the two of you side-by-side on the sofa, blanket over your legs and the food on trays beside you. in these moments, when matty's sleepy and happy and peaceful, you'll convince him to come shopping with you at the weekend. well, he doesn't ACTUALLY need convincing; he just pretends to hate it, because sometimes it just hurts too much doing couple-y shit with you while not actually being a couple, but on some occasions the want to spend time with you will win out, and he'll let you tug him round westfield or wherever. like you said, wandering around record shops is a must (he gets quite emo the first time you go after self-titled comes out and you get so excited and huggy when you see it), and he'll be completely useless sitting outside the fitting rooms when you're trying new clothes, because he just thinks you're beautiful in everything - there are some things you try on that he LOVES, though, and he'll be enthusiastic about those in such a way that you go a teeny tiny bit weak in the knees. you love him. he loves you. the two of you are so fucking stupid lol <3

[sorrowful-wallflower]

Marauderstober

Oct 14- RavenRock- Fall Baking

1,271 words

“Will you teach me how to bake?” Benjy asked one night when they were sitting on the couch.

“Sure. What do you want to bake?” Peter was curious now. He’s never wanted to bake before.

“I don’t know yet.”

“Okay?” Peter asked slowly. “What brought on this sudden need to learn how to bake?”

“Oh, my mum’s birthday is coming up and I wanted to make her something,” Benjy said after a minute.

That conversation was a week ago so now Peter was in the kitchen and getting everything ready. Benjy was coming over today and he was going to teach him how to bake. Cupcakes are simple enough, right? Peter loved baking. His mother taught him when he was younger and now all of his friends ask him to bake them things. He didn’t mind it that much as long as he had enough time to make it right and not rush through it. He has a process and doesn’t like to deviate from it. When Peter looked at all of the ingredients spread out on the centre island in his kitchen, he decided that he should probably get some stuff out for biscuits too. It’s pretty hard to mess up biscuits.

Peter looked at the time and he still had an hour before Benjy was supposed to show up. He made sure that he had the recipe ready and started portioning out some of the ingredients. He would start with an easy recipe first like a basic vanilla cupcake. Once he thinks Benjy has that down, then they can try some of the fun Halloween designs that Peter found when he was scrolling through Pinterest this morning. He really wanted to try and make some apple pie cupcakes.

There was a knock on the door and it brought Peter out of his thoughts. He wiped his hands on the tea towel that was sitting on the counter and went to answer it. Benjy was beaming on the other side and gave Peter a kiss before coming inside the flat. They walked into the kitchen and Peter nearly ran into Benjy who had stopped short in the entryway.

“Why’d you stop?” Peter asked with a little laugh.

“How much are we baking?” Benjy responded and when Peter followed his eyeline, he could see why it looked like a lot.

“Oh. I wanted to give you some options of what you wanted to learn.” Peter shrugged as he moved past Benjy and grabbed his apron off the hook by the door.

“Oh, okay. You scared me for a second there.” Benjy huffed out a laugh.

“Wash your hands first and then you can grab the extra apron off the hook,” Peter instructed before he pulled out the bowl that they would need regardless of what Benjy wanted to bake.

Benjy did as he was told and after he had on the apron, he sidled up to Peter and gave him a little shove which earned him a glare and Benjy laughed. Peter was trying to take a deep breath as he remembered how he was when his mum started to teach him how to bake. He was a little terror, always making a mess but then again, he was six when they started. Benjy was an adult. He should have more control than six-year-old Peter did, right?

“So, what do you want to bake? I have stuff for cupcakes or biscuits,” Peter said as he gestured towards the variety of ingredients on the counter. 

“Which would be easier?”

“Umm, they are both pretty simple so it’s up to you,” Peter shrugged. He knew which one he preferred but he wasn’t the one making something for Benjy’s mother.

“Cupcakes,” Benjy declared after a minute of contemplation.

Peter moved the ingredients for the biscuits off to the kitchen table so it wasn’t so overwhelming and then he didn’t have to worry about Benjy grabbing the wrong thing. Once he had everything situated again, Peter showed Benjy the recipe and had him preheat the oven to 180℃ and put the cupcake liners in the pan. Peter grabbed the flour, baking powder, and salt as well as the bowl and measuring cups.

“What’s next?” Benjy asked as he bounced up next to Peter.

“We need to whisk these together. Grab that measuring cup and put twelve ounces of flour in that bowl.”

Benjy grabbed the flour, scooped out twelve ounces, and plopped it into the bowl, causing a cloud of flour to form and they both started coughing. Peter was trying to clear the air and his lungs of the white substance when a thought occurred to him. This is going to be exactly like when he was learning how to back as a six-year-old and he had to bite back the groan that wanted to escape.

“Okay, let’s try again. Next time pour it in closer to the bowl so it doesn’t cause another cloud.” Peter laughed a little and Benjy gave him a sheepish look. He knew exactly what he was doing.

Benjy measured out the flour, baking powder, and salt without making another cloud this time and slowly whisked it together as Peter showed him how to do it. Peter pulled over the electric stand mixer and plugged it in before ensuring that Benjy incorporated everything together well enough. 

“Okay, now we are going to beat the sugar and butter together until it is light and fluffy in the mixer.”

Peter gave Benjy the recipe and watched as he measured out the ingredients and started the beater. Once that was done, Peter added the eggs and vanilla before pulling over the flour mixture and showing him how to add it into the mixer and alternating it with the milk. Luckily, there was minimal mess this time and everything was incorporated nicely. They scooped the mixture into the baking pan and put it in the oven for twenty minutes.

“Is that it?” Benjy asked, a little disappointed.

“For the actual cupcake part, yes, but we still need to make the icing unless you want to use the store-bought icing,” Peter said casually. He wasn’t a fan of store-bought icing, so he was hoping that Benjy wanted to make some.

“Let’s make the icing,” Benjy declared.

“Buttercream or whipped cream?”

“What’s the difference?”

“Buttercream is sweeter and whipped cream is lighter.”

“Which is easier?”

“Whipped, in my opinion,” Peter said easily.

“Okay.”

Peter put the ingredients for the buttercream on the table with the rest of the discarded items and pulled the heavy whipping cream, powdered sugar, and vanilla to the centre of the counter. Before they started on the icing, Peter and Benjy cleaned up the mess from the cupcakes. Peter showed him how to whip the cream and add the sugar and vanilla before letting him try it himself. The timer went off for the cupcakes and Peter took them out of the oven to cool.

When he turned back around, he was met with a smear of whipped cream on his nose and a boyfriend with a giant grin on his face. Peter took a deep breath, moved past Benjy to get his own icing, and chased him around the flat after Benjy took off running when he saw what Peter was doing. When they finally made it back to the kitchen, they both had icing all over their faces and in their hair. Needless to say, Peter had to remake the icing. Once they had cleaned themselves off and the cupcakes were cool, they iced them and enjoyed one before cleaning up their mess and sitting down for a movie.

@cazzythefrogking @clementinewoolf @maladaptivewriting @multiimoments @lavenderhaze @literally-the-prettiest-star @thebibutterflyao3 @seiworf @emjayeingray @remusregulusrosekiller @heartsoncover @accuratewhereabouts @belowthestarrs

[adrianasunderworld]

More Isabelle doing Isabelle things

@mangacupcake @marrondrawsalot @writing-heiress @the-weirdos-mind

Isabelle: Are those guys playing poker over there?

Jade: Yes, they like to play every Friday here.

Azul: Excellent customers. Though obviously not a word of their activities to the staff.

Isabelle: They must bring in a ton of cash.

Jade: Oh yes, all of them come from wealthy families.

Isabelle: Hm...Do they ever take new players?

Azul: I never took you for a gambler.

Isabelle: It's not gambling if you know what you're doing.

Isabelle: It's nice having tea with you like this,Trey.

Trey: I'm glad, you know you're always welcome. And I've been looking forward to having someone taste test these biscuits.

Isabelle: I'm happy to help. You know I have a friend,Luke, back home that loves to bake as well. And his mentor was the best baker in all the three realms.

Trey: Really? I would love to learn from someone like that.

Isabelle: I think you'd like them. Barbatos, really loved tea too. I remember he mentioned a tea that he always wanted to try, but it's pretty much impossible to get

Trey: Really? Didn't you say Barbatos was some ancient demon, I can't imagine a tea he'd be unable to get.

Isabelle: Yeah, something about it being brewed from the flowers in fairy rings. Fae don't really exist in my world, at least not anymore.

Trey: I see. Maybe the guys at Diasomnia can make it happen.

Isabelle: Huh. You might be on to something.

Vargas: Come on, Rosa, give it your all!

Isabelle on a broom: I'm *jump* ugh! *Jump* trying! *jump* ARGH!

Classmates: *snickering*

Vargas: Alright, Listen, I know you got it in you. Just focus. Visualize yourself flying.

Isabelle: Okay. *deep breath and focuses*

Classmates: She's doing it...!

Vargas: That's it you're getting it!

Isabelle:

AAHHH!

Vargas: .....Well it's a start. I'll go get her.

Isabelle: So do you guys make fairy rings? Is that a thing here?

Lilia: Oh yes, though I will say, you're more likely to find them after some festival days back home.

Isabelle: Do little flowers ever pop up in them?

Malleus: Occasionally, yes. Why?

Isabelle: I was remembering a rare tea brew someone told me about back home and you used the flowers from fairy rings for it. I kinda want to try it.

Malleus: Well, you're not likely to find them here. So all the more reason for you to come visit Briar Valley soon.

Lilia: (so proud of Malleus) Yes, we insist you come for the next holiday.

Crowley: Let me get this straight. A giant fight broke out in Mostro Lounge because you hustled a group of students at cards?

Isabelle: How was I supposed to know they were going to be sore losers?

Floyd: It was hilarious, you should have seen their faces!

Crowley: Not the point!

Lilia: What do you have there?

Isabelle: A journal of all the magic I know and am figuring out. It helps me to keep a record of what to know.

Lilia flipping through it: Ah, so a homemade Grimoire. You don't see much of those nowadays- *finds a page in the back full of scribbles and doodles. Some of which being stuff like Malleus name surrounded by hearts* -and what's this?

Isabelle: *snatches it back* Nothing! A uh... manifestation...page...? Shut up, I got bored! Do not breath a word of this to anyone!

Lilia: My lips are sealed.

[obaewankenope]

I had a conversation today while waiting to sort out some stuff. It was very... Meaningful. This lady had tried to help me find a particular person to talk to to organise things and, because she couldn't find them, was very apologetic. She offered me coffee while I waited and then a biscuit/cookie when I politely declined because I don't drink caffeine much. I told her over and over that it was fine and she didn't need to apologise because things weren't going as planned, or that I had to wait. And because of that, she said that I was refreshing to talk to because I ended up explaining to her @kedreeva radical kindness concept and the idea of saying three nice things about yourself when you say something negative. We talked about how it is a learned behaviour to be hostile and defensive, that people often have troubles and traumas of their own, have grown up the way they have and act as they do because they oftentimes have never had the time or safe space to think about their behaviour and the why of it. This lady said I was very wise and when I disagreed and argued it was common sense that when someone is hurt they may lash out, that there was a wisdom in recognising that. I don't know if I agree with her but I found it very engaging to talk with her and hear her speak of the story the chaplain told her about the suggestions of some children he visited in school on how to show care and kindness to others, how to respond to people who may be going through rough times. "bake a cake for them," one child suggested. "give them a cup of tea and biscuits," another said. Because offering a cup of tea, giving someone a gift, making them something, performing a gesture of care, can help someone who is struggling. And I said to this lady that things like this, hearing kids suggesting ways to be kind, gives hope for the future to be kinder than the now. When we have extremism and hatred and discrimination and separating people based on their nationality, their sexuality, their gender, race and more. To hear that there are children who want to be kind makes it worthwhile to keep being as kind as possible.

Anyway. In other news, I also saw my old headmaster and high school physics teacher who threw a water bottle at me ex and hit the kid behind him instead and accidentally snitched on him in front of his old boss. Oops.

[gottabegenki]

Happy Wednesday. Wanted to put down some more MalleJo sappy stuff. 😌

But this is before Malleus confesses to Joellen. He has a talk with Lilia 😁

I typed this short on my phone 🥲

Malleus sighed heavily as he stirred his tea while being deep with his own thoughts.

Lilia sat across from him and gave a small smile that also had a worried look. “Is something troubling you? You haven’t drank your tea or took a bite from a biscuit.”

Lilia’s question snapped Malleus out of his thoughts as he looked over to his guardian. “Oh. I am just….unsure of what I should do.”

“In regards to what? You can tell me.” Lilia assured him as he sipped his tea.

“Well….given my title, and what I am, is it….alright for me to have feelings for someone who is different from me?” Malleus asked curiously as he set his tea cup down.

Lilia blinked and couldn’t help but give a light chuckled, “That’s what bothering you? Of course you can. What’s the problem?”

Malleus thought for a moment before turning his head to look to the window next to their table. “For a while now, there’s someone who’s been on my mind. Well…ever since they spoke to me without any fear, and saw me for who I am, I can’t help but think about them in a way I’ve never felt before.”

Lilia nodded as he listened to Malleus’ words. A smile appeared on his lips as he had an idea already on who he was talking about. “I see I see. I take it you haven’t told this specific person how you feel about them?”

Malleus shook his head as he sighed and folded his arms across his chest before leaning back against his chair. “No. We still talk to each other given the chance. And…I lose track of time when I’m with them, and I find it pleasant to the point where I wish it would last longer.”

Lilia giggled as a bat landed on his shoulder. “Aww~ Malleus. You’re experiencing liking someone in school. You should tell them how you feel before you enter your last year here.”

Suddenly, a light flush of pink appeared on Malleus’ face. “Lilia…how do I that?” Briar Valley’s prince is one of the most powerful beings in Twisted Wonderland, but confessing to someone is completely foreign to him.

Lilia smiled again and couldn’t help but laugh lightly when he noticed the blush on Malleus’ face. “If you don’t feel ready to say anything yet, then continue to talk with them. And this time, find the little things that makes them smile, laugh and happy. That way, you will get to learn even more about them that most people don’t.”

Malleus smiled slightly, “You make it sound so easy.” Which makes sense for Lilia, since he’s more of an extrovert and a people-person compared to everyone else in Diasomnia.

“Do you think they would understand fairy jokes? Or tease them? And maybe tell them more information about Gargoyles?” Malleus asked before taking a bite from a biscuit.

Lilia smiled sheepishly, “Well, maybe? But know your limits with teasing, some people may get mad. You can continue to tell them about everything there is to know about this world and everything you have seen and experience.”

“I could…but being in Briar Valley most of my life, I’m not so sure if continuing to talk about it with them would be interesting.” Malleus replied and frowned slightly. “I know they told me they’re not afraid me…and I do not wish to scare them.”

Lilia smiled again as he rested his chin on the palm of his hand. “You really thought hard about this for a while?”

Malleus nodded as he looked to his unfinished tea.

Lilia reached over and patted Malleus’ shoulder. “I’m sure it will be good. I say tell them how you feel. From what you told me, and from what I’ve seen…I’m sure they will see you more than just the Prince of Briar Valley, Malleus Draconia.”

Lilia’s assurance caused Malleus to smile again. “Thank you Lilia. This talk really helped. Is there any other suggestions you can give me? What else can I do for this person I like?”

Lilia rubbed his chin before smiling and responding, “You can always start with flowers. Certain flowers have special meanings to them. Give one to them as a start, and then tell them how you really feel.”

[slimestudy]

Study techniques that I use

So this one's a wee bit different from the other stuff I've posted thus far (well, it's bound to be, this is a third attempt at having a study blog for my madness that hopefully won't get overtaken by people who mistake aesthetic for a theme and start asking me specific fandom related questions).

Last evening, my friend asked me how I do studying (he has an exam coming up and isn't very studious person) since he knows that I am very serious about learning. Keyword learning, not studying.

So I ended up making the following list.

I. Optimise

Make sure that your study environment is comfortable and that you're wearing clothes that you feel comfortable in.

The more comfortable you feel, the less stressing the study situation will become to you. Wear soft clothes, sit in a weird position, lay on the floor, have snacks with you. Keep the room clean and ventilated for fresh air. Put on music.

Learning and magic have a lot of things in common, like the repetition making the master, but the thing that most matters in them are the circumstances. No trick will work and no lessons are learned unless certain criteria are met. And if you cannot find the right setting for it, you create it.

II. Breaks

Every 45 minutes, take a 5-10 minute pause, get up and walk around, every 2 hours take a longer break to get more snacks, food and something to drink.

The important thing is to move your body and stretch, get your blood to circulate and to get away from the studies for a moment to rest your mind.

While it is good to study, too much studying can slow you down as after a certain time limit, our brains stop taking in new information for the sake of processing the previous knowledge. As powerful as a human brain is, it isn't limitless and just like your computer and phone, it can very easily be overwhelmed by too many tasks and often there isn't enough memory left for processing.

III. Snacking

Light snacks, biscuits, cookies (preferably with chocolate), tea, coffee, juice, energy bars, berries, fruits, vegetable sticks, crisps. Your mind cannot concentrate on the important things when your stomach is fully empty and you can't stay sharp if it's too full.

You've seen the anime girls/boys/beings snack while they study at home and there's often something with chocolate, salt, and tea (mostly green tea) along with some fruits. And they're not there just to fuel your brain either, some of these foods actually help you to concentrate better like dark chocolate, coffee/tea, while the rest are there to give you vitamins (fruits, juice) or help bind water into your system and to cleanse your palate (crisps/chips) while also providing you with some energy (crisps/chips, salted roasted peanuts).

Snacks like these also help you to keep your blood sugar and pressure at a good level, which also optimises your chance to learn and memorise things.

If you're about to take an exam and have a low blood pressure, taking a chocolate bar and an energy drink might help you. It's basically using the wrong method to somehow come to the right solution.

IV. Air

Taking a longer break every once in a while to get some fresh air is always good. If you just stay indoors, you'll eventually start feeling sleepy, dizzy and tired. Fresh air and going outside for a bit can help you fix that. It's also good to detox for a bit and just chill in the park, relax and listen to birds and other nature sounds.

Don't forget your mask during the times when you're feeling sick or if there's an outbreak for a sickness. I'd recommend one that's made out of fabric, it's easier on your skin and there's a lot of cool patterns for them. They're also a lot easier to match to your outfit, either making you look cooler or cuter, giving you some space for yourself (because people won't recognise you that easily) and helping with potential dysphoria.

V. Notes

So notes right? You have to take them in the class, they're ugly, they make no sense, they're annoying. Let's change that shall we? Get your cutest notebooks, stickers, pens and just... Redo your notes with thought? When you're at home, you will have no pressure to write it down fast, you already have the things the teacher said, you can now take your time with them.

There's a word that you can't understand? Look up the dictionary for what it means and make a note of it write it next to the word (like this). Spend time with these notes and make them for yourself, you don't need to return that to the teacher and the teacher sure as hell doesn't deserve to see the masterful penmanship and the little doodles and illustrations for just talking at the front and making you take notes at the speed of light without really explaining anything.

You can also expand on what the teacher has already told you by going through that 50USD book that you were told to buy only for the bastard of a teacher to not even use it, you bought that thing, you might as well use it to the fullest before you sell it forward to the next student.

Here's the kicker.

You can redo your notes as many times as you want. And at the end of it you'll have that cool and beautiful looking handwriting you always envied that one studyblr for. You can make it even better?

And once you're done with the studies, don't throw the notebook away, the final version, you might want to go through it later. And seeing how well you made it, will fill you with pride and joy.

With each version of the notes, you will end up remembering more of the topic, that's why teachers at first tell you that your notes are important. But it's not the first draft of the notes that's important, no that's just there to showcase that you were there to listen to the teacher ramble, it's the final notebook that matters. Your notebook.

VI. Learning methods

So what type of learner are you, really? Visual? Audio? Kinetic? Which way are you more likely to remember what happened? Use this to your advantage. Record yourself reading the textbook, add music to the back ground and listen to it. Draw examples to help you visualise what it means. Do something with your hands while you read or listen. There is no right way to learn. Try things out, it will help. And if the method you tried wasn't for you, at least you can say that you learned about yourself.

VII. Profit

Your notes are finished and can be read through over and over again. You remember things and while the exam may not have gone like you anticipated, please don't be discouraged or disappointed with yourself.

After all, school doesn't really test about your actual knowledge but rather how much you can memorise within a certain time limit along with your ability to self study and independent work skills. And sometimes teachers are just assholes.

After you finish school, you'll end up noticing that there are no tests and that everything comes down to your ability to be independent and search for things and knowledge on your own. And learning how to study and search for information to obtain new skills is what school is really supposed to be teaching you.

Good luck!

-Slime

[mindofharry]

In which you and harry go on a talk show and talk about your kids, marriage and the industry.

fluff and talk of hollywood - bad and good. i hope you love this as much as i do!!! feedback is welcome as always <3

James Corden was more than another talk show host to you and harry. He was a friend, a really close friend at that. Harry had known him a long time, since he was a teenager, in the early days of one direction. And he’s always been so good to harry and how you. You met James and his wife, Julia, a couple years back - 5 to be exact. You and harry had been dating only a couple months, and you were very new to the industry. You had your own fan base, and had gotten recognised before - but nothing like harry. Harry and you met at an event, and then went to an after party together and the rest was history. So with you and harry being together, you met with his friends. James and Julia were honestly the nicest and funniest people ever - you were fangirling a bit (a lot) because you remember watching Gavin and Stacey on repeat for years, James was surprised when you mentioned it.

So with you and harry being close friends with james and know you can trust him with just about anything, you knew the best person for this interview would be him. People - reporters, are begging to just have a little insight to what you and harry go through, how you met, your babies and marriage. Anything they can get their hands on. And you both, especially harry, feel ready to talk about that. So why not make this causal? Have a friend over, ask some questions and then that’s it. You’ve got the interview done and you both don’t feel any pressure.

James’ assistant asked you guys to come up with a list of things you feel completely comfortable with talking about and a list that you absolutely will not talk about at all. So for example, harry would talk about his experience in the band, but he will not talk for his other bandmates - he doesn’t want to be asked unnecessary questions that the media would just feed in to. The same with you, you want to talk about your journey, but you want to keep somethings about your journey private, and you both know james will understand that.

“You nervous?” You asked your husband, harry. He was sitting down on the sofa in your shared room - you were both waiting to be called out, you were better under pressure harry not so much.

He shook his head and you sighed, sitting down beside him placing your hand in his hair. It always calms him down. You immediately knew he was nervous, he couldn’t hide it from you. You’ve been married three years and together five, neither of you could lie to each other even if you tried. Usually harrys buzzing to go on talk shows, loving talking to people and just having fun conversations. But he’s such a private person, and so many secrets will be shared. It’s normal to be nervous about it.

“Do you want to cancel?”

Harry immediately smiled at the question. You cared so much. You were too good for him, always caring for him even if you’re not in the best place. He remembers you both caught a bad cold, but instead of resting, you made sure harry was healthy and comfortable. Or when paps were around - you made sure you were the only one on those cameras. Harry was so grateful for you. You’re the best wife, the best friend and the most amazing mother. Harry got very lucky.

“No” harry paused pecking your lips. “i’m okay, baby. just nervous y’know?” he said and you nodded placing your hand on his cheek, caressing it softly.

“Whenever you want to cut it short, we will. James knows that” you say and harry nodded before pecking your lips again. Your phone pinged, you placed your hand in your pocket pulling it to see two text messages from your mom - she’s looking after the kids tonight. You have two boys, Mika and Aiden. When you found out you were having twins all you felt was excitement. Harry was even more protective over you seen as there was two babies inside of you. The pregnancy wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t good either. The first trimester you were in bed for most of it, second trimester wasn’t too bad, you were just tired and moody. The third trimester was an emotional one, and it was super busy. But once the twins came - everything fell into place and you both just fell in love. Now they’re both two, Mika is the oldest, but Aidan is the biggest. You could already tell they’d be heartbreakers.

The text was a picture of the two boys in front of the tv watching their favourite show miraculous lady bug - you’re not going to lie, it’s a bit of guilty pleasure for you. Cat noir and miraculous lady bug have more drama than the kardashians.

“Look at our babies” you pout showing harry a picture of your boys. Harry took your phone and zoomed in. “They’re wearing their matching gucci pjs” Harry giggled and you rolled your eyes playfully. “And they look very cute” he added and you nodded taking your phone back. A knock on the made you both stand up, harry walked towards the door of the dressing room and opened it to see one of the show producers.

The producer - Paul - walked you both through what james is doing and if we have any queries or want a break just signal him and he’ll cut it short.

“Anything at all you want, we’ll get it” Paul said as you both walked hand in hand behind him. “We want to make you both as comfortable as possible, ok?” He said stopping outside the studio door. “Yeah, thank you” you say squeezing harrys hand and kissing his shoulder. Paul and other people around the studio were around you, Harrys best friend and Manager Jeff is there and your manager Alice is there too. They both sent a comforting smile your way, you responded with a thumbs up.

Paul turned your way and you grinned.

“5, 4, 3, 2,” paul counted down and then opened the door to the studio at one. You and harry walked out hand in hand, james corden waiting on the main stage.

“Guys! Thanks for coming” James said pulling you into a hug first, kissing your cheek. You smiled as he did the same to harry. You both sat down on the purple sofa, harry placing his hand on your knee. This feels good, you thought. You feel relaxed - there’s tea and biscuits. It just feels like talking to an old friend, which really it essentially is.

“Thanks for having us” harry said rubbing his thumb against your knee, you placed your hand on it.

“Now, we all know how private you both are - especially harry. So how do you feel about coming on and sharing a lot of stuff, that y’know has been private for so long?”

You looked over at harry, it seemed like he was still calculating his answer. You answered for the both of you. “Um - it’s been a weird feeling leading up to it. Y’know i feel excitement and nervousness. But i’m glad we’re doing it together, with you. It makes it a lot easier” you say and james nodded, pointing to harry. “And how do you feel?” he asked and harry sighed placing a hand on his own knee.

“I feel nervous. Yeah. But i know i’ll feel better after i share some stuff” Harry said, giving a brief answer. Harry styles could avoid any question ever - james knew he wouldn’t be getting much out of him.

“Ok, now how are the boys?” James asked grinning, and you almost squealed. Sure, the media have seen the boys and fans know that you guys have kids, but they don’t know names or anything like that - you’re not even sure the media know they’re twins. Your pregnancy was really well hidden too, so it was a shock when people saw you and harry out with two 6 month old babies.

“They’re at home, watching they’re favourite show” you say and harry nodded “in the gucci pjs i got them too!” harry added making you and james both laugh. “They’re really good. Super healthy, Mika knows all sort of words now - we have to be super careful around him. And aiden can escape any cot” you say and james laughs again.

“That’s amazing”

Harry nodded and rubbed your knee. “Mika learned the f word” Harry said gesturing over to you and james eyes widened. “No way!” he gasped and you covered your face.

“I said it infront of him once! once!” you say and harry shook his head.

“And now he says it 4 times a day”

You tutted at him and squeezed his hand before going back to james. He looked between the two of you and just smiled before asking more questions. He just couldn’t believe how much love you two can give. You’re perfect for each other. Both so caring, loving and kind. He knew your boys would grow up to be the best kind of people because you two.

“So how did you two meet?” James asked sitting back in his chair.

“Well first we met at a one direction concert” You say and harry bit his lip to stop him smiling. “i wasn’t into singing or acting yet, and my nephew was obsessed with one direction at the time. My dad knew some people back stage so they got us VIP tickets” you say and james shook his head.

“That’s insane!” he said and you nodded.

“Harry and i actually talked for a bit before the next people came in. I wasn’t the biggest fan of them, so i wasn’t too star struck” you giggled and harry pinched your arm.

“you were totally star struck” he pouted and you laughed again.

“I thought you were liam for a full 5 minutes, harry” you say and harry sighed his hands falling into his lap. “women” he mumbled and you laughed placing a hand on his. “i’m kidding. i did mention that i loved your man bun” you say and harry nodded remembering.

“We met again three years later at an after party, when Y/N was new to the industry. We recognised each other and got talking - the rest was history” harry vaguely, making you smile.

“Now....” james said pausing a bit, making harry tense up. you rubbed his arm comforting him.

“How has being famous changed you both?” james asked looking at you first.

“um, that’s a hard one. I mean i haven’t been in the industry very long, but i can tell you i’m very cautious” you say and james nodded “i have to triple check everything, i get my assistant Alice, who’s amazing to check things for me. I constantly have to watch what i’m doing and saying” you say and pause slightly. “in my first year of being quote on quote famous, i was anxious, rude, exhausted and that whole year really changed who i was and the people i surrounded myself with” you say and james smiled at your honesty looking over at harry.

“Of course, it’s changed me. But i always felt like i was made for this life. And although i have to being really cautious about things i absolutely love this life” harry said.

“it’s definitely had it’s bad and good moments” he added and james nodded in understanding.

“As harry said, it’s had its bad moments and good moments. But we’re both really grateful that we’re here. We’re able to support our children with anything they may want and need. We’re glad that bad happened, because if it didn’t we wouldn’t be in this position”

“I get it” James said “completely. Are you able to talk about some of the bad with us?” He asked with a hopeful voice.

you laughed to yourself and looked over at harry, give him ‘the look’. As in, do you want to talk about this or not. Harry nodded and squeezed your hand.

“I mean, you get your fair share of hate” Harry said leaning foward. “I was in a boyband, people just liked to make fun of us to make them seem different, and it doesn’t bother me anymore - i’m older and learned more. But it killed me when i got the first few hate comments” harry said and you were trying to keep the tears in as you listen to harry reminisce.

“And that was hard?” james asked and harry nodded.

“I remember just sitting there and reading all of the comments. I punished myself for it” he said and you placed both hands on his. “and i know they were just jealous trolls - but it hurt, sometimes still does” harry said and james nodded.

“Every celeb goes through it - it’s sadly part of the job, and it shouldn’t be” you say shrugging.

James looked to you as if to say - i know you didn’t answer the question.

You sighed and harry kissed your temple.

“The first year into our marriage harry and i decided we wanted kids” you say, tears filling up in your eyes. “And we got pregnant pretty quickly” you paused tears falling down.

“And we lost them, pretty quickly too”

James eyes widened and shook his head. “i’m so sorry” he said and you nodded. “We were both dealing with so much from the media that we lost the baby. I was taking on way too much, and harry was going through private stuff of his own. It wasn’t our fault, i know. But i just think about if i had just calmed down and listened - would we have three children instead of two?”

“We were blessed with two little angels, and we never took them for granted, we still don’t and never will” Harry said taking over and giving the signal to paul to cut the interview short.

Paul gave the signal to james so he began wrapping it up.

“Now, before we love you and leave you, is there anything you’d like to say?”

You smiled and leaned into to harry.

“Don’t take anything for granted and choose love” you say and harry looked down at you and nodded.

“That’s all we have time for today! See you tomorrow”

You guys go the signal that the cameras were off and a bunch of people started moving around. You stood up and brought James into a hug and kissed his cheek. He pulled back “I’m sorry if i went too far with my last question” he apologised and you shook your head. “No! No! definitely not. I feel so much lighter and better after sharing it” you say with a smile.

He brought harry into a hug and they said their thanks and whatnot. Paul then guided you and harry back to the dressing room so you guys can wind down a bit before heading home.

“God, i feel so much better at that” You say twirling around. Harry placed his hands on your hips pulling you into him, pecking your lips twice. “i’m proud of us” he said and you nodded putting your arms around his neck.

“We did good. And you feel good, right?” you asked and he nodded quickly.

“Now, let’s get home to our babies”

You both sit down for about 5 minutes, going through your phones just to check up on things. Then you packed up and your managers talked you through some press things - not to listen to any comments etc. Everyone will have their opinions, you learned that very early on in your career.

“I can’t wait get home” you yawned fastening up your seatbelt. Harry nodded placing a hand on your thigh. “Takeout?” he asked and you nodded.

“Definitely”

[scapegrace74-blog]

New Ways of Turning Into Stone

A/N  Another long drive, another Outlander fanfic idea that dropped into my brain out of nowhere, shoving aside the historical AU I have been wrestling with for months.  Here’s the pitch: Claire Beauchamp is a psychiatrist specializing in grief counselling.  Jamie Fraser is referred to her by his sister, who is worried for his well-being after a series of family tragedies.  You can probably guess the rest, but I’m going to write it anyway.   The title is taken from a song by the amazing Phantogram that was playing as the story idea came to me.

After losing my WIP virginity posting Ginger Snap, I’m going out on that limb again and posting this first chapter with only a rough outline mapped out in my head.  You people are a terrible influence!  Also, there will be some trigger warnings on future chapters, so please watch out for those.   And now, on with our show.

Claire Beauchamp glanced down at the leather-bound calendar open on her desk.  The ivory page for Thursday was packed to the margins, each hourly block filled with the name of a patient followed by a series of cuneiform symbols she used to remind herself of the last session, course of treatment, overall progress, all while maintaining strict confidentiality.  Not even Geillis Duncan, her office administrator and very good friend, knew how to decode the script.

Geillis liked to laugh at the old-fashioned day planner, reminding Claire that their practice utilized software that could perform the same function electronically, but she enjoyed the act of physically logging each session.  The solid heft of her Mont Blanc pen in her hand, a medical school graduation gift from her Uncle Lamb.  The scratch and grab of the nub as it bled black ink over virgin paper.  It was a tactile ceremony in a detached world.  Geillis would nod and then tell her she needed to get laid.

Speak of the devil, a sharp rap on her office door was followed by the appearance of her strawberry blonde head. blue eyes alight with mischief.

“Yer two o’clock is here.  Did ye need more time tae finish bolting down tha’ chaff ye call a salad, or can I show him in?”

“It’s kale,” she defended.  “It’s full of anti-oxidants.”

A disdainful scoff was the only response.

“Yes, Geil, please show Mister...” she glanced down at her planner, “...Fraser in, thank you.”

The tiny rectangle contained only a name, which meant this was their first appointment.  Geillis vetted all prospective patients, but Claire preferred to go into the first meeting blind, with no assumptions or pre-conceptions.  

She wondered what misfortune had caused Mr. Fraser to seek out her psychiatric services.  The death of a child, perhaps, or the end of an extra-marital affair.  People grieved for very different reasons and worked through or around that grief with a surprising variety of coping mechanisms.   Most called upon her practice in much the same way they would a breakdown truck when their car’s engine failed.  They simply wanted to get back on the road to happiness.

Despite the degrees and accreditations that decorated her office wall, Claire wasn’t certain such a thing was possible.  In her experience, grief was a phantom limb that never really went away.  The best one could hope for was to learn healthier ways of living with it.  

The sound of Geillis clearing her throat snapped her back to the present.

“Was there something else, Geil?”

“Och, no’ really.  Just, when yer considerin’ how tae thank me later on, remember tha’ my favourite stone is an emerald, that I prefer gold tae silver, but platinum is ne’er amiss.”

“What are you on about, Duncan?��  But her friend had already disappeared back into the reception area, leaving behind only the glow of her Cheshire smile.  Claire was shaking her head, bemused, when another knock rang out, this one considerably heavier than the first.

“Come in,” she called as she looked up.  And up.  And up some more.

The man who now practically filled her office door had to be at least six foot four, with powerful shoulders and a broad torso encased in a blue henley.  His nearly endless legs were likewise muscular, as testified by the stretch of his jeans across each thigh.  As if his physique wasn’t remarkable enough, he had a head of outrageously wavy red hair, worn long enough to graze the tops of his ears and the nape of his neck, but swept back from a high brow by a judicious use of product.  His face was angular in a pleasingly unique way, with a day or two’s growth of beard counter-balancing an almost youthful, earnest appearance.  But his most striking feature by far were his aquamarine eyes that shimmered like a tropical sea.  Eyes that were currently observing her with perplexity.

“Dr. Beauchamp?” a deep Scottish brogue inquired.  He pronounced it as though she were French.

“Yes,” she startled.  “That’s me.  And it’s pronounced Beecham.  Please, come in Mister Fraser.”  She shuffled a few items around her desk needlessly as she tried to compose herself.  Damn Geillis for not giving her a bit more warning that her newest client was some sort of fitness model.

“Thank ye,” he replied.  “An’ it’s pronounced Jamie, if ye please.”   She added wit to the growing list of the man’s attributes.

If anything, he grew even more impressive as he approached.  She could see he was nervous, although hiding it well.  His striking eyes darted about the room, trying to get a sense of his environment.  She indicated the well-upholstered armchair that sat to one side of her desk.

“Have a seat,” she invited.

With a surprising amount of grace for one so tall, he eased into the chair but didn’t lean back.  The fingers of his left hand tapped restlessly against his thigh.  She watched him quietly, waiting for him to speak.  This was a trick she had learned when she first started practicing psychiatry, but in this case it also allowed her to continue her appraisal.  He was, she concluded, the most attractive man she’d ever seen in the flesh.

“No couch,” he finally observed.

“No.  That’s a bit of a Hollywood trope, I’m afraid.  Lying prone in front of a stranger is hardly conducive to feeling at ease.”

He nodded his acceptance of her logic, but was otherwise silent.

“So,” she spoke at last, unable to wait him out, “what caused you to seek out counselling, Jamie?”  His name suited him, she thought as she spoke it for the first time.  Both boyish and imposing at once.

“I didna.  Twas my sister, Jenny, who insisted I see a doctor.”  His mobile mouth twisted into a grimace.  She could imagine the sibling discord that such a demand would have caused.  Whoever this Jenny was, she was made of strong stuff.  Unfortunately for her, a hostile patient would receive no benefit from merely visiting her office.  Counselling was a participatory process, and she could tell from the stubborn set of Jamie’s shoulders that he had no intention of participating.

“I see,” she said carefully.  “Well, it’s your time and your dime, Mr. Fraser.  This session lasts for forty-five minutes, and you’ve not been here for five.  There’s a carafe of hot water on the table over there, if you care for some tea.  Or you’re welcome to just enjoy that comfortable chair for another forty minutes.  I’ll be working on some administrative necessities.”

She turned her chair away from him, but from the corner of her eye she could see his gobsmacked expression.  He had clearly expected her to cajole and manipulate him into co-operating, but that simply wasn’t her style.

“I meant no offence, doctor.  I’m certain ye’re verra good at what ye do.  Tis only... well, Jenny is my older sister, ye ken.  She practically raised me.  And so ofttimes she treats me like a muckle-sized bairn, and no’ a man who’s capable of lookin’ after himself.”

As he spoke, Jamie leaned forward until his elbows rested on his knees, expressive hands gesturing in front of his face.  Hostile to the notion of counselling he might be, but he clearly wanted her to understand it wasn’t a slight.  As a physician, she had been trained to never take a patient’s reactions personally, but it didn’t mean she didn’t appreciate the effort.

“No offence taken, Jamie.  If you don’t need my assistance, I’m happy for you.  That’s one less person hurting in the world.”

“I didna say I wasna hurting.  But I can handle it my own way.  I am handling it, that is,” he hurried to add.

Unable to sit still any longer, he rose and walked over to the small table where she kept an assortment of herbal teas and a tray of Geillis’ homemade biscuits.  Bending over, Jamie set about making himself some; chamomile by the smell of it.  The sound of spoon ringing off porcelain as he stirred in some honey made her smile, reminding her of Lamb and his obsession with the lost art of afternoon tea.

“Can I make ye a cup?”

The question was so unexpected, it took her a moment to process it.  The tea was there as a distraction for her patients, to give them something to do with their bodies as they worked through difficult emotions.  None of them had ever thought to offer her a reprieve as well.

“No, thank you.  I just finished lunch.”

He dipped a shortbread into the steaming tea, then ate it in a single bite.  Instead of sitting back down, he began to browse the framed certificates and photographs along the far wall as he sipped his tea.  With his back turned, her eyes dipped to admire his ass, which filled out his jeans perfectly.  When she caught herself, she gave her head a shake, appalled at her lack of professional detachment.  Maybe Geillis was right.  Maybe she really did need to get laid.

“How long have ye been a doctor?” Jamie asked without turning around.

“Ten years,” she replied.  “But I’ve only been a psychiatrist for the last two.”

It was a dangerous topic, and she blamed his ass for letting the words slip out.  Fortunately, his inquisitiveness took him in an entirely different direction.

“Were ye some kind of prodigy, then? Ye hardly seem old enough tae have yer own practice, let alone fer a decade.  If ye dinna mind me sayin’ so,” he added quickly, as though realizing what he’d just said.

“Not at all.  And you hardly seem young enough to be a, what was it? A muckle-sized bairn?”

As he turned to look her way, she understood the expression ‘shot-gun smile’ for the first time.  It spread across his face like a sunbeam, transforming what was already remarkable into a work of art.  If she hadn’t been sitting, she likely would have stumbled backward from the force of the blow.  Scrambling for something familiar to keep her from making a very grave fool of herself in front of this man, she clasped her clinical training with both hands.

“Are you and your sister close?” 

“Aye, when we’re no’ tryin’ not tae kill the other.  Our Mam died when I was only four, and with Da workin’ dawn til dark on the farm, Jenny was parent, teacher an’ playmate all rolled inta one.”

“You’re not from Edinburgh, then?”  Although what that had to do with his counselling, she hadn’t a clue. 

“Nah, I hail from a wee village in the Highlands ye’ve likely ne’er heard of called Broch Mordha.”  She shook her head to indicate she was indeed unfamiliar with it.  Jamie launched into a detailed description of the place, his hands sculpting the landscape out of thin air.  He obviously cared very deeply for his home, and she felt a twinge of jealousy, having never known that feeling of deep belonging  herself.

“And what brought you to Old Smoky?” she asked as he wound down, her interest piqued.  It was like slamming a lead door on his previously sunny disposition.

“Family obligations.” Said in such a way as to make it clear that no further words would be forthcoming on the topic.  She regretted her nosiness immediately, despite what it revealed about his emotional state.  Jamie was most certainly grieving something, but handling it he was not.

Before she could find a way back to the easy flow of conversation, a chime from her laptop indicated that the session was up.  She couldn’t bear to dismiss him without trying to set things right.

“Listen, Jamie, I understand that you only came here today to humour your sister, but I want you to consider something.  Whether we’re grieving or angry or jealous, or any destabilizing feeling, we’re often the worst surveyors of our own landscape.  Just like you can’t know your place on the sea without referencing the stars, it takes something external to ourselves to measure how far adrift we have become.  Your sister obviously loves you.  Ask yourself, what has she seen in you that prompted her to force you to seek help?”

They parted with cordial but muted goodbyes.  The door closed behind him, leaving Claire to stare at the blank rectangle in her planner that bore his name.  No coded symbols flowed from her pen.  When the door re-opened, it was Geillis, closing it firmly behind her.

“Weel, did I no’ tell ye?  Wee fox, tha’ one.  And he told me he liked my shortbread!”   Geillis said this as though it was some kind of sexual euphemism, which for all Claire knew, it was.

“Yes,” she replied distractedly.  “He’s very nice.”

“Nice!  Nice?  Tha’ man is tae nice what Wagyu is tae beef jerky.  Have ye completely lost yer senses, woman?”  

“Yes, well, he’s a patient, Geillis, as you well know.  And not one I’m likely to see again,” she added, acknowledging out loud what she already knew.

“Oh, no?” Geillis sing-songed.  “Thas’ strange, as he just made an appointment fer the same time next week.”

Claire’s eyes flew to where her friend looked on, smug as could be.

“Yer three o’clock called tae say she was runnin’ five minutes late.  I’ll leave ye tae think about yer... patient.”

Claire picked up her pen, trying to pull together something resembling a professional summary of her first appointment with Jamie.  Her mind replayed their interaction, but all she could remember was the way his eyes crinkled when he was listening attentively, the tidy half-moons of his fingernails, the seam of his jeans as it contoured his thigh, and the cymbal-crash in her chest that accompanied his smile.

Patient, she reminded herself.  Jamie Fraser is your patient. 

[hb-writes]

Thank you. I can take it from here.

Inspired by my 100+ lovely followers, @love-me-a-good-prompt’s “THANK YOU IDEAS” prompt list, and a suggestion from the lovely @cas-kingdom​

Summary: From the Little Lady Blinder Universe. Clara Shelby wants to bake her brother a special treat for his birthday but needs a bit of assistance in gathering ingredients. 

Featuring: Tommy Shelby, John Shelby, Clara Shelby, and Nipper (Shelby cousin)

-----

Clara stared at the space between the topmost cupboard and the ceiling, to the spot where Polly set the sugar, far out of her and Finn’s reach, rationing it now that she saw how much the pair were shoveling into their afternoon tea. 

Clara had already collected the other ingredients, mixed the dry things together, waiting on the sugar in the hopes that someone taller would pass through, but she could wait no longer. 

She didn’t need much, knew that her brother wasn’t particularly fond of sweet things anyway, but the biscuit she chose still called for a small measure of the stuff, so Clara pulled over a chair and climbed onto the counter with a clean wooden spoon, intending to push the small container close enough to the edge for her outstretched fingers to reach. 

Clara yelped and the spoon clattered to the floor as a pair of hands on her waist tugged her from the countertop.

Tommy settled her on his hip, an act he nearly regretted when she latched her flour-covered hands around him. 

“You’re not meant to be home yet,” Clara said. 

“And you’re not meant to be up on the counters.” Tommy shifted her to glance at the mess on the table but Clara quickly pushed his face back to her’s with a flour-covered hand. 

“Arthur said you had a meeting.” 

“I did,” he answered, the two words coming out slow, with a hint of suspicion. “What are you up to?”

“Nothing.” 

Clara tried to pull out of his arms but Tommy held her there, turning them both towards the mess again.

“It doesn’t look like nothing.” 

“Nothing that concerns you, then,” Clara corrected. “Let me down, Tommy.” 

“Let you down so you can climb back up on the counters?” 

“Wouldn’t need to if Aunt Polly stopped putting the sugar all the way up there,” Clara answered, pointing towards the canister and reaching towards it from Tommy’s arms.  

Tommy chuckled. The sugar had spent a portion of his childhood on that shelf as well thanks to John. 

“What do you need the sugar for?”

“Because I need it,” Clara answered, all pouting lips and big shining eyes. “Please, Tommy?”

“Tell me what you need it for,” Tommy said again.

Clara groaned, going a bit limp in his arms. “But it’s none of your business,” she answered.

“None of my business? Not much under this roof that falls under that category.” 

Clara knew all about the different types of business to be found in the Shelby household. There was the betting business and family business and women’s business and funny business. In the months since the boys returned home, Clara had learned that her brother seemed to think he was entitled to have a hand in all of it, though he often declined participating in the funny business, more often just accusing her and Finn of it.  

“Well, this does,” she answered. “It’s Clara business.” 

“Clara business, eh?” he said. “That sounds like something that’ll only end in trouble.”

“No, it won’t. I promise, Tommy.” 

“You promise?” 

Clara nodded and Tommy let her down, reaching up to grab the sugar from the top shelf and placing it in her hands. “I’m going to hold you to that.” 

Clara smiled before skipping away from him to plop the container down on the table. She began scanning through the recipe to find her spot and Tommy lingered, flicking open his cigarette case as he watched her.

“You know you’ve got to clean all this up before Aunt Polly comes back or she’ll be after us both,” he said, waving the cigarette around at the mess.

“I will,” she answered. 

Tommy stepped over to her, glancing into the mixing bowl. “An—”

Clara pushed her brother towards the shop doors. “Thank you. I can take it from here.”

Tommy opened his mouth once she had him over the threshold, about to step back into the room, but Clara tugged on the string holding the curtain back and the red velvet fell between them.

“I said I can take it from here, Thomas!” 

Tommy didn’t really like biscuits but Clara noticed that he always lifted a savory biscuit from her Hinkley’s bag whenever he found one. It was a special thing Mr. Hinkley made from time to time, the rosemary biscuits, and the baker had given Clara a basic recipe after she promised not to open a competing bake shop down on Watery Lane. 

Clara knew her brother didn’t really like birthdays either, not his at least, and there had been a consensus among the family, decided over a month prior, that they’d not be doing anything special for him. There would be no cake, no presents, no acknowledgment whatsoever, but Clara had kept quiet on the subject, not agreeing to a thing the others said but not voicing her own opinion either. The way she saw it, it was none of their business if she chose to make biscuits on a random Tuesday afternoon, even if that Tuesday was the same day Tommy happened to have been born.

While the biscuits were cooling, the smell of fresh rosemary spreading throughout the first floor of the house, Clara stuck her head through the curtains to the shop to see they were full up with business for the afternoon. 

She whispered to her cousin Nipper who was sat at the table closest to the door. It was a loose description, calling Nipper and Henry cousins, but they were something close to that, some sort of relation on the Shelby side made closer to her and Finn because they were the only other set of twins in the family.

“That smells good,” he said as he came to stand beside her, his hand moving to push the curtain aside. “What’s Aunt Pol—“

Clara pulled the curtains tight around her head. “Can you send Tommy back?”

“Why don’t you get him yourself?”

“Because I promised I won’t cause any trouble.”

Nipper laughed at that. “Guess you’re out—”

Clara disappeared behind the curtain before he could finish, coming back with a warm biscuit. “I’ll give you one if you send him back. And if you don’t tell John.” 

Nipper was just teasing his little cousin, would’ve given in to her without the biscuit offering but he’d not say no to the bribe either. He took it from her outstretched hand before popping it in his mouth and heading across the room to where Tommy and John were talking.

“Clara’s asking for you,” Nipper said, still chewing the bit of biscuit in his mouth.

“Me?” John said.

Nipper shook his head. “No, she wants Tommy.” 

Tommy pushed the ledger back into John’s hands. “Keep on the books, John. I’ll be right back.”

John hummed. “What are you chewing on, Nip?” 

“Nothing,” Nipper answered, clearing his mouth with a final swallow and a swipe of his sleeve across his lips, both pointless maneuvers as John’s nose had already picked up on the rosemary wafting into the shop. 

“Doesn’t smell like nothing,” John said. “It smells like...”

“Clara business, eh?” Tommy said as he came through from the shop, the doors cutting off John’s words as Tommy closed them and turned to his sister, specks of flour across every bit of her. 

“It can be Clara and Tommy business now, but we have to keep it a secret.” 

“Why’s that?” Tommy asked.

“I don’t know,” she answered. “It’s you that doesn’t like celebrating birthdays.” 

Birthdays. Tommy released a light scoff, almost a laugh. He’d forgotten, hadn’t thought about his own birthday since before France, not since he’d spent the miserable day sat at Greta’s bedside. Tommy shook his head as Clara pulled the plate of biscuits out from behind her back. 

“They’re not sweet ones,” she said, setting the plate on the table. “I know you don’t like them sweet and I know everyone said we aren’t supposed to talk about your birthday but I just thought if I didn’t make a very big deal and didn’t tell anyone else then maybe you wouldn’t be mad and...”

“I’m not mad,” Tommy said as he took a cookie from the tray, taking a small bite. He was surprised, and a bit touched, but certainly not mad. 

Clara smiled, relieved her brother wasn’t upset. 

“But we do have a problem, you and me,” Tommy said, swallowing and wiping his hands off as he came down to her height, poking his sister in the shoulder. “You promised me there’d be no trouble at the end of this bit of Clara business but now I’ve got a brother out there in the shop sniffing out these biscuits like a rabid dog,” Tommy said, his eyes going wide. “You know how John is about sweets...almost as bad as you.” 

Clara giggled. “I told Nipper not to tell him.” 

“Yeah, well, you’ve started quite the commotion out there in the shop, nearly a riot. I think we may have to share these secret biscuits, eh? Just tell the boys they’re a special Clara treat and we’ll keep the birthday bit between you and me?” 

Clara nodded and Tommy made to stand up. Clara wrapped her arms around his neck before he could make any progress, her whisper so quiet that Tommy could barely hear it, his understanding of the words more from context than the hushed murmur as Clara wished her brother a happy birthday and placed a kiss on his cheek. 

-----

🏷:

@beautycinders

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@midnight-dreams-23

@mo-onstarrs

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@unicorndetective22

[copperbadge]

Replies About Food

drgaellon

if you think onion dip comes from a packet of onion soup, my friend, you are missing out. I know you know how to make caramelized onions, so I refer you to the superior California Dip: https://altonbrown.com/recipes/onion-dip-from-scratch/

Oh yes! That’s actually why I learned to caramelize onions, to make that dip, although the technique is not the one he mentions there (I think that recipe has had some refinement). I’ll be interested to try that version of caramelized onions, which I do cook regularly because they freeze so well. 

The problem for me was that a) I don’t like mayo or big chunks of onion in my dip and b) it’s so much work for something I felt wasn’t enough of a marked improvement over the original powder-and-sour-cream version. Like it’s good, but not THAT much better, at least to me.  

I was more talking about -- yes there are from-scratch onion dips, but the vast majority of Americans just dump and stir, you know? It’s sort of the traditional method, as silly as that seems to say.  

labelleizzy

There's a thing called creme fraiche that I find in with the sour cream and other dairy at the poncy grocery I love for its deli. Seems like it's exactly what you're looking for, for this dip.

I’ve always thought it was just a substitute for sour cream, but admittedly I don’t think I’ve ever had it, I’ll have to check it out. 

@rubynye

Now that you've had reduced cream, try canned Latin American "Crema", another condensed dairy product, available in the US in Latin markets and online. The way you described reduced cream made me think of Crema. I can't guarantee they'll taste sufficiently similar, but now you have the baseline to find out, and if they do you have an American source!

It’s true, part of why I really wanted to try the authentic stuff was so that I could flavor-match it to various dairy products in the US and see how they compared. I also think proooobably I could make my own by just...heating cream and continually remixing it rather than skimming the top off the way you would for clotted cream.

 UNRELATEDLY, as regards the “buttermilk” discussion on the tea towel post -- I know in theory you can go with some milk swished up with a bit of vinegar, but I’ve always found that clots the milk and/or doesn’t give the wanted effect. Really the only thing I regularly use buttermilk for is buttermilk biscuits and you do need the real thing, there, to get the proper flavor. On the other hand buttermilk biscuits are such a pain in the ass that I don’t even make those anymore, so. :D Might give powdered buttermilk a try tho....

[needs-to-stop-looking-at-valves]

H-hello so uhh, top 10 boyos who are great cooks, like uhh they'll make you dinner from scratch and its good, really good food. If that's oke, thank you ❤❤❤

*SMACKS PALMS AGAINST THE TABLE* NOW THIS IS A FUCKING ASK. LET’S GO BITCH.

tfp Breakdown. The best fucking cook you will ever goddamn see. Breakdown knew nothing about cooking, until he realized that food brings people together. Then he picked some stuff online, and now, dudes fucking Gordon Ramsey in this bitch. He loves making BIG portions of stuff, and loves working with meat. You get him a nice roast, a few potatoes and onions? He can feed the entire ship easily. Not to mention he’s quite the baker boy, so he indulges his husband when his 2am chocolate cake cravings hit.

rid2015 Wildbreak. Not AS good as his dad, but he’s a competent boy. He loves making mushroom risotto, and hand pies. Breakdown is so proud of his ass, and they have little cook offs on a daily basis.

Rid2015 Thunderhoof. Not only does he look good while doing it, but boy makes some FINE Italian food. Pizzas, raviolis, eggplant parms, lasagna, and his peak masterpiece; spaghetti and meatballs. Dude makes the best meatballs, makes the sweetest tomato sauce, all with a giant ass thing of garlic bread. Seriously, you will never run out of bread, or wine. For dessert, his go to is affogato, but if he gives a shit about you, he’ll go the extra mile and make the best goddamn tiramisu you've ever fucking had. Dude and coffee and go hand and hand tbh.

Rescue bots Hightide. He’s no five star chef, but he knows how to make simple fish dishes (his favorite being clam chowder), and how to make a good, hearty bread. Its a bit salty, but you can’t help but ask for seconds. His food is meant to warm those he rescues, and it does a fair job.

tfa Blitzwing. No master, but he knows his way around the kitchen. Icy, at least. Random keeps eating the counter top, Hothead is pissed that he can’t fucking find the salt- it’s a mess. When Icy is around long enough though, he makes a damn good meat stuffed pumpkin, and can even make a nice egg pudding (he makes a decent german chocolate cake, but that’s way more Breakdown’s speed).

MTMTE Impactor. Odd choice, I know. But dude knows how to make shit ingredients taste good. You got some kinda old noodles? Congrats, you got yourself a fat plate of carbonara, greasy and delicious. He ain’t fancy, but he’s the best for you broke bitches with a low stock.

G1 Ironhide. Big portions, big calories with this cowboy. You can’t leave his place without a full belly. Biscuits and gravy, eggs, hashbrowns, porkchops, fried chicken- and that’s just breakfast. It’s nice, hearty, and you can ask for as many helpings as you’d like. He will not stop. His food is endless. You will go home with leftovers for like a week. Even a pudding pie for dessert.

tfa Prowl. He’s actually a vegetarian! He likes making clean, easy to eat food, like veggie rice balls (or doughnuts), carrot stew, honey garlic tofu on a bed of steamed veggies, and for dessert? A honey baked apple, topped with mix nuts and whipped cream. His food is very good, and clean. He even makes his own trail mix for when he goes on nature walks (its full of roasted nuts, dried fruits, and dark chocolate bits), and will happily share if you ask him for some.

Tfp Dreadwing. He was the main cook in the household, and as such, he can feed others, should it be needed of him. He likes making Salmon Meuniere, chicken curry, and honey glazed beef strips. All of his food comes with a bed of white rice. His favorite thing to make though? Those cute little wagashi treats. They’re often made of bean paste, and they go lovely with his daily cups of tea. He also makes them very pretty and ornate. 

Cyberverse Soundwave. He mainly learned now to cook because Hot Rod absolutely fucking can’t. He’s the more casual cook on this list, preferring stuff you can set and forget. Stuff like Salisbury steak and mashed potatoes, roasted chickens, mac and cheese, pot roast- pretty much anything you can stick in a crock pot, and have dinner ready for when he comes back from work. When he makes desserts, he loves making either cookies, or swiss rolls, depending how much time he has. He loves ube and pumpkin flavors.

[coffeestainsandcashmere]

Let No Man Steal Your Thyme - Chapter Eight (sfw)

I hope those few of you who follow this blog even remember this story!! It's being posted on here as a WIP, so technically you're all my beta readers :). Sorry it's taking so long to work through, but I'm really busy with other writing work, plus actual work, and some life stuff, but it's not abandoned!

In this chapter, which is a bit of a filler chapter, Hermione gets a pleasant surprise visit at the Kneazel and Quill, and she learns what Draco is doing with himself all day at the Manor, and why he has the hands of a potion master. Meanwhile Draco is quietly freaking out about what Scorpius will think of his kindling relationship with one third of the legendary Golden Trio...

As always, looking forward to hearing your reactions and thoughts!

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six (nsfw), Part Seven (nsfw)

___

The bell above the door of the Kneazel and Quill jangled, and Hermione looked up to see a very familiar figure wearing practical, Muggle clothes, and a tired but genuine smile.

“Harry!” she shrieked in delight, rising and scuttling around the desk. “When did you get back? I thought you were on assignment in Sweden til —”

He raised his eyebrows. “Wednesday? It’s Wednesday today, Hermione.”

“So it is,” she laughed, and pulled him into a hug. “Cup of tea? You look wiped out.”

“I’m only staying if you’ve got custard creams…”

She snorted. “I must have known I’d need them — I stopped at the Tesco Express on my way in this morning.”

“Maybe Professor Trelawney was wrong about you and ‘the sight’ after all?” Harry grinned and she shook her head, curls bouncing everywhere for want of a hair-tie.

Seated in the cramped back room of her second hand bookshop, Harry looked at her and cocked his head slightly to the side.

“What?” she asked, dunking a biscuit into her tea.

Quietly, Harry said, “There’s something different about you.”

“No there isn’t,” she retorted, scoffing her custard cream down and reaching for another. “I’m the same washed up old hag I’ve always been. Now, tell me about Gothenburg! I’ve wanted to go back ever since we went there for that conference — must be, ooh, what, twelve years ago now? Gods, how time flies.”

“Ok, first of all, you’re nothing like a ‘washed up old hag’, so don’t you dare talk about yourself like that, and secondly, Gothenburg was amazing.”

She smiled, and let him tell her what he could about his assignment.

“Bet Ginny’s glad to have you back,” she said.

Harry’s face shifted into what Hermione called her favourite ‘Harry being soppy for his wife’ expression, and he flushed. “Yeah, probably. Apparently Lily’s been flying around the garden at Grimmauld and it’s giving Ginny kneazles. Lily’s been pretending to be the next seeker for the Harpies or something…” Raking his hand through his messy hair, he sighed. “Who’d have ever thought I’d be sitting in your bookshop, talking about my daughter learning to fly, eh?”

She smiled, but Harry’s expression cracked a little.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

Hermione scowled fondly and reached across to take his hand in hers. “Harry… we’ve been over this a thousand times.”

“I know. I just…” he drew in a long inhale and then said, “So are you going to tell me what’s changed in your life since I’ve been away? You’re practically glowing. Did you meet someone?”

Hermione bit her lip and drew back, cheeks heating damnably.

“You did? Who is it? Do I know them?”

“Yes,” she said carefully. “You do. But if I tell you who it is, I need you to…” she puffed out her cheeks and finished off in a rush, “I need you to promise not to freak out first of all, and then promise you won’t tell a soul. Not even Ginny just yet, ok? It’s really important.”

Harry looked wary and worried at that.

Taking one more breath for courage, she said quietly, “It’s Draco Malfoy.”

For a moment, Harry fell utterly still, his green eyes wide and disbelieving. He looked like he was expecting Fred and George to pop out of the bookshelves with party streamers and tell him he’d been pranked, but when he saw her anxious expression, his shoulders dropped a fraction and he whispered, “You’re bloody serious.”

“Yes.”

“How?” he blurted. “I mean… the man’s a hermit by all accounts. How did you even meet him, let alone… you know…” he grimaced and she bit back a snicker. It looked like he’d swallowed a toad whole.

A tiny smile crept onto her lips and she relaxed just a little. “It was back on the first of September,” she said. “I went with Ginny to wave James and Albus off, and —”

“— of course, Scorpius started this year too.”

“Exactly. Draco was there to see him off. Ginny was amazed that he’d left the Manor, but he’s… Gods, Harry, he loves that boy so much.” She paused, recalling Draco's stricken expression as the train had pulled away from the platform, and of his fears about losing Scorpius because of their relationship.

Harry watched her with a quiet intensity for a moment and then asked, “So… Uh… how’d it happen?”

She laughed. “I invited him for a drink at the Leaky, fully expecting him to refuse. I think he surprised himself when he accepted. We had lunch together and honestly…? It was really nice. He’s changed, Harry.”

“I know.”

That surprised her, and she sat up a bit and frowned.

Chuckling softly, Harry ran a hand around the two-day stubble on his jaw. “You remember the attack on the Manor?”

“Little Scorpius yowled in my arms for hours while you questioned his father, Harry. I couldn’t forget that.”

Harry acquiesced with a sideways nod of his head. “Well, he wasn’t the same Malfoy from school in that interview room, Hermione. I don’t know what I was expecting, but when I could get him to focus on something that wasn’t the whereabouts of his son, he was articulate and helpful… Still arrogant and snappy, but…” Harry shook his head. “He’s definitely different.”

Hermione bit her lip to try and stop herself from crying, which failed, and when Harry looked up, his face fell.

“Hermione? What’s wrong?” He set his mug down and rose from his battered old armchair, crossing in two strides to kneel beside hers.

“I was so afraid you wouldn’t understand,” she whispered, shaking and overwhelmed.

All the tension left Harry and he hugged her.

It was awkward because of the furniture, but Harry had always given the best hugs no matter the situation. “You deserve to be happy, Hermione. And you’ve always known your mind. If Malfoy can keep up with you, and keep you happy, then…” he shrugged without letting go, “I’ll support you. If he hurts you though, I will use every curse I’ve ever learned as an Auror on him.”

“Thanks, Harry. You promise you won’t tell anyone yet?”

He nodded.

And then someone cleared their throat from the doorway into the main shop, and Hermione jumped. Harry sprang back, hand going instinctively for his wand, but he stopped when he saw who was standing there.

“Theo!” Hermione exclaimed, smearing the last of her tears off her cheeks. “What are you doing here? I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Too busy sobbing onto dear Potter’s shoulder,” he said without barb. “Everything alright?”

She nodded. “Just getting emotional about something as usual. What’s up?”

“Just came to see if you wanted to grab lunch, but I can see that England’s favourite Auror has returned. How was your trip, Potter?”

“Good,” he said, suddenly every bit the awkward boy he’d been at Hogwarts. “I just finished debriefing and thought I’d stop by for a custard cream and a chat with Hermione before I head home. I’m on leave for a week now.”

“Nice,” Theo smiled. “Any plans?”

Harry shrugged. “A few casual rounds of quidditch with Ron and the others,” he said. “Time with Ginny and Lily. Might pop up to Hogsmeade and see if I can visit James and Albus at the weekend.”

Conversation stalled, and Harry rocked back on his heels before putting his mug down and turning to Hermione.

“Look, I’d better get going,” he said. “But… Come over for dinner this week, alright?”

She nodded. “I’d love that. Tomorrow any good?”

“I’ll check with Ginny, but I can’t see why not. I’ll owl you.” He paused and then grinned. “C’mere,” he said, and pulled her into another enormous hug. With a hand briefly on the back of her head, he murmured, “I won’t tell a soul.”

“Thank you,” she said, squeezing him so hard he wheezed.

“See you, Nott,” Harry said with a polite nod as he left.

Once the bell had fallen silent again, Theo turned to her and crossed his arms loosely over his chest. “Everything alright?” he asked again now that they were alone.

“Yeah,” she said and rolled her eyes. “I told him about Draco and bound him to secrecy. I was so relieved when he took it so well that I just burst into tears.”

Theo laughed at that and finally seemed to relax. “I’m honoured to have known before Potter, then,” he said. “And what, pray, are those?” he added when his eyes landed on the custard creams.

“Muggle biscuits,” she said, picking up the plate and holding it out to him. “They’re delicious.”

Theo looked as if she’d offered him a plate of slugs and held up his hand. “Thanks… I’ll, uh, pass.”

“You’re such a snob, Theodore Nott,” she laughed, bustling off to tidy the mugs and plate away. “What did you want, anyway?”

“Lunch,” he said.

“It’s three in the afternoon,” she countered.

“Mmm. I had a deposition that went on forever. I’m starving.”

“Theo, I do actually have a business to run,” she said. “Isn’t today Dan’s day off? Can’t he go instead?”

“He’s already reserved us a table and is probably halfway through his steak and rioja by now,” Theo groused. “I’ll bring you a doggy bag if we have any leftovers,” he added affectionately.

“Thanks?”

Pausing on the threshold to the back room, Theo fixed her with one of his rare, intense and sincere looks. “I’m glad things worked out with you and Draco. Potter was right; you both deserve to be happy.”

She swallowed thickly, feeling tears prickle at her eyes again. “You won’t tell anyone? He wants to tell Scorpius himself. He doesn’t want it coming from someone else first.”

Theo dragged his thumb across his heart in a cross and nodded. “Drinks on Friday? Draco said he might come.”

“I’ll be there anyway,” she promised, and Theo left with a friendly wink that only he could get away with.

She and Draco continued to see each other, mostly using the seclusion of his London apartment, though they did sometimes go back to hers. There they watched the 1946 Great Expectations. To Hermione’s surprise, however, Draco informed her that it wasn’t his first time seeing a muggle film. That, naturally, led down a whole rabbit hole of questions, ending with the discovery that Draco had built Scorpius a warded playroom inside Malfoy Manor that was shielded from the effects of magic and thus allowed Muggle technology to function perfectly.

“But… you need electricity!” she’d blurted.

Laughing and looking far too smug with himself, Draco said, “Indeed.”

“But… wizarding households don’t have electricity!”

“Granger, you’re glorious when you’re baffled. I must make more efforts to confound that brilliant mind of yours more often.”

“Tell me!” she’d shrilled, pinching him in the ribs as they sat on the sofa together with the end credits rolling away in the background. When he’d just sat back with his mouth quirked into an infuriating smirk, she had straddled him and raked her fingers through the slightly shorter hair just above his hears on either side of his head, scrunching the silver-white waves until he’d groaned and bucked upwards slightly into her. “Tell me, Draco Malfoy, or no more kisses.”

“You drive a hard bargain, my beautiful, brilliant witch,” he purred, slightly breathless as she continued to hold him in her grasp, head tilted back a little, throat exposed. His hands landed reverently on her hips and he closed his eyes, clearly enjoying the contact.

Naturally, Hermione kissed him on the lips and he smiled. “Perpetual shock charm,” he said when she drew back. “I made a generator.”

“That’s… That’s so simple it’s genius. But surely you had to look up —?”

“I’m fairly certain I could get a job as a muggle ‘electrician’ now,” he snickered, chasing after more kisses. “But I choose not to.”

“What do you do with yourself all day?” she asked. “Running Malfoy Manor and the estate can’t take up all your time, surely?”

He went a little tense beneath her at that and then chuckled, embarrassed. “I… I’m on the board of a number of charities,” he said, “And I’m currently conducting research into a number areas in the field of Potions. I did a postal course to get my NEWTs in Potions, and shortly after that, attained my masters.”

“Huh,” she said, sitting back a bit. She reached down and brought his hands up in front of her. Pressing a kiss to each of his scar-flecked knuckles, she murmured, “That explains a lot. You’ve got the hands of a potion-master, Draco.”

“Too many spills and accidents,” he snorted. “And not enough dragon hide gloves.”

“What are you researching?”

“A number of projects,” he said evasively.

“Come on,” she laughed, dropping his hands again and beginning to nuzzle at his jawline and neck. He was utterly weak to that, she’d discovered to her absolute delight, and she was not above using it to her advantage. Beneath her, he shivered and went limp, turning his head with a sigh of pleasure as she raked her teeth over his pulse and then kissed him.

“I’m working on… ah… on a recipe that… oh gods, Granger…”

“Go on,” she crooned.

“A recipe to make the wolfsbane potion commercially viable,” he panted.

At that, she did pause, but only for a moment. Next thing Draco knew, Hermione had flung her arms around his neck and was squeezing the life out of him like a boa constrictor.

“Granger?”

She just shook her head, thinking of what Remus Lupin would say if he knew what Draco was working on now on behalf of his kind. “Why?” she eventually croaked without removing her face from the crook of Draco’s neck.

His hands skated gently up and down her back, the heat simmering back down to something calmer; something fond and affectionate. “Because,” he fairly growled, “Fenrir Greyback tormented my mother when he lived with us at the Manor, and I had no idea that werewolves could be functioning members of society with the right help until I met Remus Lupin. It was just another area where if I’d only known more at the time, it would have made so much difference to my perception of things.”

He sighed and kissed the side of her head.

“I can make a difference now. I’ve got a state of the art potions lab in one of the dungeons at the Manor, and Severus left his entire collection of books and notes to me in his will. He must have known I always wanted to be a potions master, even when I didn’t think I’d live beyond the end of that awful year…”

That was probably the longest continuous speech from Draco she’d heard since they’d started seeing each other, and the emotion in his voice, lingering beneath the surface like a hidden current, moved her deeply.

“You’re a wonderful man, Draco,” she whispered as she kissed his temple. “I wish the world could see you for who you are now…”

“You see me,” he said very quietly. “That’s enough.”

___

To be continued! Don’t forget to let me know what you think, and help a relative newbie (at least to contributing anyway) to the fandom out by reblogging!

writing masterlist | Ao3

[lovelycheollie]

Back Home

“I believe that all of our lives we’re looking for home and if we’re really lucky, we find it in someone’s loving arms. I think that’ what life is-coming home.”  –Anita Krizzan

Words: 2512

Hi there! It’s been years, and I’ve been attracted to embrace my Carat side again! I hope everyone’s doing fine, despite of the pandemic we’re experiencing right now. I decided to create a Vernon fic for the reason that I missed my mutuals, especially @chillihansol ((she’s still a Vernon stan how constant I am jelly!)) I hope you guys enjoy this read! My ask is always open for requests 

 “This is ridiculous,” you mumbled to yourself, staring at the white cyber abyss in front of you. The laptop screen showed nothing but a blank document, a pile of notebooks unevenly stacked to your right. Your chin rested on the top of your palm while you tried your best to think of something that may make you start on your assignment. So much on learning online, you could only rely on yourself and on the urge of just simply finishing and passing whatever needs to be submitted.

It was early in the morning, and supposedly you were to have a hearty breakfast while thinking of ways to somehow cope with the academic stress you were feeling. Even if you were stuck inside your room, you at least knew how to have fun despite being by yourself, may it be simply listening to your favorite song, or cook something easy. While you strolled towards the kitchen, you heard your phone ring and you were being summoned to an online meeting with your classmates. Your to-do checklist was filled again with some assignments meant to be passed on the next day. Staring at the list alone removed the motivation in you to work on your pancakes, and the weather outside could only join you in your tired state.

So there you were, sitting on the office chair and struggling to find the single word that will push you forward to work on your assignment. No word you’ve thought is good enough for the first sentence. Oh how much you’ve hated going through a writer’s block. Deep inside, you just wanted to cram on the homework and sleep your troubles away, but then again, you just really wanted to get rid of everything and just relax without worrying.

As you decided to brew another cup of coffee, someone knocked on your door, which almost caused you to drop your favorite mug onto the floor. You dragged your feet towards the doorway, eyebrows knitted together and eyes ready to glare on whoever was brave enough to bother you early in the morning. But as soon as you saw Vernon flashing a toothy grin, the eyebrows separated, the glare turned into a loving pair of eyes, and your feelings were everywhere. After months of not seeing each other, Vernon was in the flesh, and was already making your morning better.

“’Sup Y/N,” he said, placing his face mask in his bag and removing his white sneakers. You took the time to gawk at his pink sweater and jeans, while still being mentally at awe at his sudden presence. You heard him chuckle a bit as he welcomed himself in the room. “What’s the mug for?”

You rose the mug near to your face, stepping away from the door. “Ah, well, I was brewing coffee. I wasn’t really expecting a visitor, let alone your face.”

“Kind of mean, but I understand.” He lifted the messenger bag and showed you the contents. He had store-bought meat buns, bottled coffee and milk tea, some chips and biscuits stacked inside the bag. Vernon showed another smile which made your heart throb a bit. “I figured you would be stressed today, so I brought the good stuff.”

“How did you even ‘figure out’?”

“You tweeted last night, and you know me. If practice is over then I do the second best thing.”

“Which is?”

“I check your tweets because I’m such a great friend,” he replied to you as he found himself sitting on a bean bag. Vernon placed the goods on the coffee table and stood up again, joining you in the kitchen to get some glasses and plates. He was always like this in your room; he felt like he was at home, especially when he was with you.

Placing the plates on the table, he proceeded to fill the glasses with the coffee and tea, then looked at you and patted the bean bag next to him. You could only roll your eyes while removing the ice tray from the fridge. As you sat beside him, he dug his teeth on the meat buns and let out a satisfactory hum. He found himself at peace, with you alone, and with some convenience store goods. But before you could even copy him, you remembered you had an assignment to start on. The pain of standing up again to grab your laptop was bothersome, and the temptation to relax has strengthened itself.

While chewing on a hearty bite, Vernon took a short glance on the empty online document, then to your struggling fingers, then back to the screen again. He could tell that you were just not having it, the motivation in you to study was missing.  Remembering on how he welcomed himself inside, he couldn’t help but feel a little bit guilty. “I can see you’re pretty busy. Did I come at the wrong time?”

“What? Oh no, it’s okay! You actually came at a good time,” you tucked your hair behind your ear, his sight fixated on your fingertips. A sigh escaped your lips as you finally typed some words on the keyboard. “I just needed a small push to start on this one.”

“How many assignments do you have?”

“I got two, plus this one, so three,” you stopped and looked at him, seeing a bit of sauce on the side of his lips. With your motherly instinct, you wiped the sauce off with your thumb and then wiped it on a tissue paper. Before it could even sink in your thoughts as you continued to type, Vernon was flabbergasted. Yes, he knew you were a bit motherly to your friends, but he wasn’t aware that you had the gull to touch someone else’s face. He could feel the blood rush to his cheeks, and he was just trying his best not to let you know how your simple gesture made him feel giddy. The troubles of having a crush on a friend was very much real for this man.

Despite being busy on working as an idol, Vernon would always find time to be with you, as the two of you were close friends. He despised the thought of only being friends with you until the two of you reached adulthood, and he was so sure that he wouldn’t let the two of you stay as friends. But then, even if he finds himself in the perfect situation, the courage to muster up the feelings and confess to you was still a hard mission for him to do. Simply put, he was just crushing on you so badly.

And so, the feelings were put in the lyrics he would sing. They would be seen in the steps he would do onstage. You weren’t that naïve; you can feel that Vernon was signaling something to you. However, you didn’t want to simply assume that this charismatic friend of yours was trying to be more than friends. Hence, you and Vernon are still friends, up to this day.

“Do you want me to help you?” he stammered while trying to act as normal as he can, which you could see, was failing. Seeing him like that, you were starting to feel jittery as well. Your fingers kept pressing backspace from the typing mistakes. The two of you were now facing the same dilemma: how to act properly beside the person you’ve been liking for months.

You cleared your throat and sipped from your glass. Opening the packet of biscuits, you munched on a piece and continued on your homework. “No, I’m okay. I know you’ve been busy, so you should just relax and let me do my own thing.”

“Are you sure Y/N? You know I could help you.”

“Yes, I’m definitely sure. And what you should be doing is resting because I know you’d be pretty busy by tomorrow.”

  Then it became silent, with only the rustling of the plastic bags and your fingers typing making the noise. Vernon continued to slip a glance on your work from time to time, and you just did whatever you were doing, despite feeling the heavy weight of his glare. Sometimes, you would catch him looking at you, and he would just give you a goofy grin, and that would be enough for you to punch him lightly on his arms.

 As you were reaching the final paragraph of your paper, you felt the urge of chewing something. The last piece of biscuit was across the table, and sadly, you couldn’t rely on your own to reach it. Luckily, beside you was Vernon who had long, slender arms, who busied himself with his mobile games. It was time for you to have him do something.

 “Hey Vernon?” you said, eyes glued once again to the monitor.

Vernon paused his game and turned his head to you. “Yeah?”

“Can you pass me the last biscuit? I can’t reach it,” you spoke charmingly, giggling in your head. You were expecting that the biscuit would be placed nearer to you, but your friend wanted revenge to what you did earlier.

Vernon opened the packet and positioned the biscuit in front of your lips. For him, he was doing it simply to lessen your troubles, but to you, it was making you crazy.

“Here you go Y/N,” he spoke, placing the thin, chocolate-flavored biscuit on your lips and licking the rest of the crumbs on his thumb. You were staring with wide eyes as he did so, and when he noticed your surprised look, the thought of his actions hit him on the face. Right now, the two of you were a blushing mess. Panicking for your life, you hurried into finishing the last paragraph of your assignment. There were less mistakes this time as you typed, which felt as an accomplishment to you. You couldn’t dare to look at Vernon with your reddened state, which made you to focus more on your paper.

“Hey Y/N,” he finally spoke as you saved the file. Vernon was simply waiting for your response, sitting beside you while you swallowed your feelings and shut your laptop off. He sat on his knees, eyes staring at you which took you aback. Vernon was serious, and you felt a pang of nervousness to whatever he was thinking. You settled the laptop on the table, and just sat there, thinking of what to say to ease the atmosphere somehow.

“Yes? What is it?”

“Why are we so awkward?” he mumbled, and you made a small laughter as soon as you heard him. Your laughter was music to his ears, and it quickly perked him back to his normal self again.

“I don’t know about you, all I wanted was for you to reach the biscuit, not feed it to me, you dork!”

“You did it first! You wiped the sauce from the corner of my lips!”

You could only blush more while making up words for your rebuttal. “It was my motherly instinct! You did not have to take your revenge on me!”

And while you continued on, Vernon was simply looking at you, adoring your flushed cheeks in the morning light. In his head, you were pretty, even if your face was red, even if you were chatty and embarrassed. His heart was full of you, he knew that he likes you that much. A tiny smirk grew on his lips, which turned into a large smile. Surrendering in defeat, you turned to the other side, bit your lips into one straight line and planted the thought of him smiling at you in the center of your mind.

“Why did you have to be so charming?” you whispered to yourself, making sure that you were the only one who could hear it. You were mistaken though, as Vernon heard it, and kept the butterflies in his stomach.

Vernon’s ringtone broke the silence, and with quaking hands, he answered the call. While he was talking with the caller, you took a piece of paper and wrote something simple on it. Quietly, you sneaked the paper inside his bag, and laughed at yourself. You imagine a laughing Vernon in the middle of the street, with the paper in between his fingers.

“Y/N, our manager called. He said he wanted to meet us all in the dorm,” he told you while fixing his bag and checking his belongings inside. He had a gloomy look imprinted on his face, and you were affected by the sudden news as well. Vernon was going to leave so soon, and it will take a while again to see him and bond with him. “He wants to meet us right now. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, you’re an idol! You’ll be busy at times and it’s okay! I understand!” you showed a sad smile, which made Vernon ache for a hug with you.

“Don’t you worry! After the meeting, I’ll come back immediately! Lunch will be my treat!” Vernon replied with another grin, lifting his arms to pat you on the head. The two of you walked to the door, and you can’t help but become a little bit greedy to him. Deep inside, you wished that he didn’t have to leave, and that you would spend the whole day with him.

After putting the mask on, he stood up, looking at you once more and poking your head. “Hey, don’t be sad. I’ll be back soon enough!”

You braved yourself to hug him, which startled him a bit. He then hugged you back, his warmth seeping on his clothes to your skin, and his arms tightly wrapped around you. The moment was short-lived, as you backed away from him and returned the smile he’s been giving you. “You better take care of yourself Vernon!”

He opened the door and stayed outside, still holding on to your warmth. Head turning, you were there behind him, in your favorite loungewear, waiting for him to continue ahead. To him, you were the epitome of a home, and he knows that no matter what would happen, he would always come back to you. In the busiest day, or in the darkest night, he would always think of you. You are his home.

While walking along the street, Vernon checked the contents of his bag. He would often check the insides of his bag when he was already outside, a perk he does to secure that he has everything with him. At the bottom corner of the bag, there was a folded paper. He knew the note was yours, as he remembered that you had a small habit of leaving memos in your friend’s belongings. As he opened the note, he found himself running back to your home, knocking on your door and locking you in his arms, embracing you with all of his heart. Vernon thanked his stars, and this stressful morning, as he realized his worries were answered with your sincerity and with your own feelings as well.

“Vernon, even if you run away, always come back home. I love you.”

[nothingeverlost]

The Most Brilliant Idea, or how Sirius Black Accidentally became a Romance Novelist (HP, Wolfstar)

In which Sirius has a Brilliant Idea, Remus is gainfully employed, James is clueless and Lily is always right.

Unmitigated fluff with minor references to the first war, AU because James and Lily didn’t die.

II

It started with the classified, the first bit of proof that everything that happened was really Moony’s fault.  There was always a classified ad in the kitchen, even when Moony was working, part of his optimistic opinion that any job could and would end.  The classified ads were always marked in pen, and one could tell just how Remus thought his prospects fared based on how he’d marked a job.  Some were viciously scratched out (potions expert and anything with ‘night shift’ in the description) some were circled multiple times (he usually came away dejected from those interviews, things he actually wanted but rarely got) some had question marks and some had a single bold circle.  It was the single circle ones that were the best prospects.

On this particular Tuesday morning while Sirius drank his tea and dripped jelly on a story about Minister Fudge’s election, the only ad that was circled was one looking for a book editor.  It was commission work, the sort of things Moony did from home sometimes.  It suited him, both because he was such a stickler for commas and spelling and because the flexibility meant that moons didn’t present a problem. The only downside was that it was sporadic work, a book at a time, and didn’t bring in enough income to make Moony feel like he was Contributing to Household Things.  Sirius always rolled his eyes.  Moony was the most stubborn person he knew.

It was then that he had his Most Brilliant Idea.  What Remus needed was a constant stream of editing.  Someone who would keep him employed on a regular basis with things a lot more interesting than editing a technical manual on the care and keeping of flobberworms.

“Lily I need to borrow some books.”  When someone had a Brilliant Idea they had to start right away, so his first action was to floo to the Potter home.  He was distracted for half an hour by Harry who insisted on a hippogriff ride and a sword fight, and he wouldn’t be a proper godfather if he said no to either, but after that it was strictly business.

“The only books we have here that you don’t have are meant for a three year old.  You and Remus had quite the library between you,” Lily replied after telling both him and Harry they could only have two biscuits.  Sirius took a third, but split it in half so it didn’t count.  After all, two and a half was practically the same as two.

“Not true.  Moony and I don’t have any of those girly books,” he said with his half a biscuit in his mouth.

“You want to borrow my romance novels?” Lily asked, puzzled.  “I don’t know who you’re trying to date, Sirius Black, but romance novels aren’t actually meant to be used that way.”

“Like I need help,” Sirius said with an eye roll.  Sure, it had been a while since he dated but that was totally his choice.  He had a lot on his plate right now with a godson that needed his attention and Moony needing looking after and his three days a week working for Quality Quidditch Supplies.  “They’re for Moony.”

“Somehow I doubt he knows that.”  Lily rolled her eyes right back at him.  “Take as many as you like, and don’t worry about when you get them back.  It’s not like I have much time for reading when I have three boys to look after.”

“Something you want to tell me, Lils?”  He looked at her stomach pointedly and wondered if they were really ready for another Prongslet.

“Yeah.  You and James are more work than Harry and he has the excuse of being three.”  But she gave him a bag for the books and sent him home with a plate of biscuits, warning him that she would tell Remus that she’d sent them so not to eat them all in one go.  It was like she didn’t trust him or something.

Once he had the books stage one of The Plan could begin.  He’d read a few of the romance novels when he was bored and they seemed like the easiest book to write.  Certainly they weren’t anything Moony read so he could borrow a bit from others and no one important would be any the wiser.  Over the next few days he spent most of the time Moony wasn’t around reading, stashing the books in the closet so they wouldn’t be seen in case Remus came in his room for late night chats or early morning bed sharing.  It was a habit that they’d never quite left behind in school, especially when either of them had a nightmare.  With the war almost two years gone the nightmares weren’t as frequent but they were always a good excuse if he needed company.

Stage Two of The Plan had a few false starts, as writing a book proved to be a little trickier than he figured, considering how many books he’d read.  Finally though after twenty-six days he had a story written.  The pining of Sigmund G Toadsnatch for Anastasia Flower ended in a passionate snog and a happily ever after.  It was time for Stage Three.

“I need your help.”  The moment Moony was gone for the day he popped around to the Potter home again, this time with manuscript in hand.

“Harry managed to get jam in his hair at breakfast and I have to give him a bath.  Can it wait?”  Her arms were full of a squirming toddler, anxious to greet his ‘Padfoo.’

“I’ll give him a bath,” he offered.

“The last time that happened you flooded the bathroom and transfigured the soap into a boat.”  She carried Harry up the stairs.  Sirius followed.

“He came out clean, though.  Mostly.”  He might have missed a few spots, but no one was perfect and there had been an important battle with a giant squid that looked a lot like Harry’s toes to wage.  “I need to know if you have any friends that have girly writing and want to earn a few quid.”  He plopped himself on the edge of the tub after stowing his manuscript on higher ground.  

“You need what?”  it was really quite impressive how she managed to run the bath, undress Harry, and listen to him.

“Alright, so this is the part where I have to swear you to absolute secrecy.  Unbreakable vow kind of stuff.  You can’t tell anyone what I am about to tell you, not even James.”

“You know James and I don’t keep secrets.”

“It’s not a big secret, just a little baby one.  The more people who know the more likely it is that Remus will know that people are keeping something from him and then the whole thing will be ruined.”  Besides Prongs would never let him hear the end of it if he knew what Sirius was doing.

“I will consider not telling him, once I know.  That’s the best I can promise.”

“I guess that will have to do.”  He was certain she’d see reason, or more importantly his side of things.  “Now about your friends.”

“Do I even want to know what girly writing means?”

“You know what I mean.  When you pick up something and you know a girl wrote it because there’s little hearts above the I’s and the ink changes color.”  Not that Lily had ever done things like that.  Her writing was perfectly sensible, not that it mattered.  Moony would recognize her handwriting.

“Your handwriting is pretty fancy, with all those loops and the illustrations in the margins.”  Lily made a few loops of her own, sending bubbled cascading into the tub to entertain Harry.

“One of the many skills a pureblood snob is required to learn, according to my dear old mum.  Trust me I’ve tried mimicking James but it’s useless.”  James wrote in a barely legible scrawl that only those with practice could read.  Sirius envied him, though it had led to an accident or two over the years especially in potions and what time they were supposed to meet.  “But it doesn’t matter, Moony knows my handwriting and that’s the whole point.  I need someone to copy over my writing so he doesn’t know it’s me.”

“I think I need more focus and perhaps something to drink.  Hold on a minute, will you?”  Lily finished up Harry’s bath, keeping him long enough to dry his hair but giving up when he decided to squirm out of her hold and run away without his togs on.  She shrugged.  “Won’t hurt him to air dry.”

“James said the same thing once.  It works better in a warm house and when you’re three, rather than when you’re thirteen and it’s snowing out.”  He’d won the dare, though, and claimed it was worth it.

“Yeah, I remember that.  Thought he was mental then.  Now I know he is.”  Lily headed for the kitchen and started a pot of tea brewing.  “Now please tell me you’re not trying to get me to help you prank Remus.  You know my rules.”

“It’s not a prank.  It’s a Brilliant Idea to help Moony.  You’re going to love it.”  He couldn't hold it in anymore.  “I’vewrittenabook.”

“Excuse me?”

“A book.  I’ve written one and I’m going to send it to Moony to edit it, and then I’m going to pay him.  But he’s not going to know it’s me so he’s going to accept the money without being his stubborn prideful self.  When he’s done I’ll have another story ready and then he’ll be gainfully employed and happy and he won’t have to worry about what happens to his job when there’s a moon.  Brilliant, right?”

“I’m still on the bit where you wrote a book.”  Lily poured the tea and set a slice of quiche on a plate for Sirius.  The spinach was in small enough bits that it didn’t actually look like a vegetable and he might not notice that under all the cheese he’d actually eaten something green.

“It’s not hard.  I read the books you had and I wrote something like it.  Boy meets girl.  One of them annoys the other.  There’s secret longing and someone trying to keep them apart and then they snog and everyone’s happy except the evil bloke who ends up in a cellar or something.”  He shrugged and ate the food Lily had given him without much thought.  He’d been so excited about the next stage that he hadn’t bothered with breakfast.  “The book’s not really the important part, though, and there have to be bits to fix or else Moony won’t have anything to do.  What’s important is that Moony doesn’t know it’s me.  I have to rent an owl once it’s ready and send him a letter about a job.  I have a name picked out already.  Marmaduke Gaylord from Gaylord’s Romantic Press.”

“I don’t know why anything you come up with should surprise me anymore, Sirius Black.  It’s completely bonkers and there’s probably fifteen different ways it could go wrong.”  Lily reached across the table and covered one of his hands with her own.  “It’s also unfailingly kind and possibly crazy enough to work.”

“Of course it will work.”  Any doubts he’d had he’d buried down deep enough that he wouldn’t have to worry about them for a while at least.  Probably not until the whole thing exploded in a very Sirius-like fashion.  

As it turned out Lily did have a friend that could use a little spending money and had hand writing that, while not containing any hearts, was feminine enough to satisfy Sirius and more importantly wouldn’t be recognized by Remus.  She rewrote the manuscript in her own handwriting.  Sirius borrowed a typewriter from Arthur Weasley to make an official looking offer from the Gaylord Romance Publishers.

Stage Four was well timed, as Moony’s job in a muggle bookstore ended that week after the third time he’d had to miss work the morning after a full moon with no explanation.  Sirius had made sure he was tucked into bed with a water bottle and a cup of tea with a warming charm that would last at least an hour, then nipped over to Diagon Alley to rent an owl for a single trip.  The offer letter and manuscript were bound together. For an added bit of cleverness he’d asked the clerk to delay the delivery until afternoon so that Sirius could be home when the owl arrived.

“What could be so important about a romance novel that they’d be willing to pay this much?”  By afternoon Moony was feeling well enough to be on the sofa instead of in bed.  Sirius glanced at the letter Remus handed him and shrugged. 

“Dunno, mate.  Guess there’s enough people reading them to make it worth their while.  The girls at school all read them.  Tripped over them all the time in the common room.”

“They’d be better off reading Austen,” Remus groused but he was also quick enough to send off an acceptance letter with the owl.  Sirius had a plan for that as well, and a newly rented owl post box.

“I’ll give you some quiet to work.”  Sirius locked himself in his room, using the time to start his second novel, the story of five sisters all sorted into the same house  and the rich pureblood transfer student who seemed rude but was secretly shy.  The prat’s best friend was cheerful and had a crush on the main character’s sister.

“Comma,” was the comment he heard the most from the other room.  ‘Why’ and ‘bloody hell’ and ‘you can’t do that to the English language’ were also common exclamations.

“Sounds like it’s going well,” Sirius said when his stomach was too loud to ignore.  

“It’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever read and the romance is dreadful but there are some bits that are hilarious, actually.  Don’t know their goal but as a satire it’s not bad.”  The stack of papers in front of him was all marked up in red ink worse than the first essay he’d ever written for McGonagall.

“I thought romances were supposed to be all sappy.”  His main character had declared his love seventeen times.  That was what girls wanted, wasn’t it?

“Fortunately I’m only supposed to edit the grammar and not the sap.  I’m over my head on that sort of thing.  Imelda Carson seventh year said I was the most unromantic boy she’d even snogged.”

“Imelda Carson is an idiot who is now breeding pink pygmy puffs and is completely single because no bloke was romantic enough for her.  Besides you don’t like girls, remember?”

“I like girls just fine.  I just don’t want to snog any of them or…”

“Smash your bits together?”  Sirius offered.

“Yeah, exactly what I was going to say,” Remus said dryly.  “I’m starved and close to going cross eyed from this editing.  Whose turn for dinner?”

“I’ll start some steaks.”  Sirius danced towards the kitchen.  The Plan was going perfectly.

II

It seemed silly, really, to have a wonderfully written and perfectly edited novel and not do anything with it.  The original plan didn’t take into account anything outside of making sure that Remus was employed, but when Sirius collected the edited manuscript from the owl post it seemed a waste to just throw it away or lock it up somewhere.

“I need a name.”  It was just before lunch when he flooed to Godric Hollow, finding Harry just up from his nap and more than excited to use uncle Padfoot as a climbing toy.  

“You know some people do give a little notice instead of barging in all the time.  There’s a lovely front door on this house I don’t think you’ve seen in two years.”  Lily winced when Harry’s foot found a foothold on Sirius’s crotch, but really the man deserved it.

“Other people aren’t nearly as entertaining as me.”  Sirius winced as well and moved Harry’s foot a little higher, regretting it when the lad’s next handhold was his ear.  “Now about that nom de plume.”

“I thought you were only writing so Remus could have an editing job?”

“Yes, but that’s no reason not to share my genius with the world.”  He waved his manuscript over his head.  

“How many times did Remus threaten to throw up while reading this drivel?”

“Only once but he edited that bit out.  Not even I can be perfect my first time out.”  Lily, of course, rolled her eyes for approximately the 42,596th time since she’d first met Sirius.

“If you’re serious about this we should do it properly.  No more ridiculous names.”

“I’m always Sirius.”  He couldn’t resist.  After all the joke never got old, no matter how many times Lily groaned.  “Too bad I can’t use my name.  Imagine how dear old mum would roll over in her grave if she knew the sacred Black name was attached to a romance novel.”

“Sirius.”

“You’re right, Lils.  If she got too excited she might reanimate and the world is not ready for zombie Walburga.”  He shuddered dramatically at the thought, making Harry, now perched on his shoulders, laugh and say ‘again.’  Of course he obliged.

“Leave it with me and I’ll sort it out.  I’ll have Molly redo a clean copy and send it off to Mary who’s a junior editor and a publisher.  We’ll see what happens, alright?”

“This is why I love you, Red.”  Sirius gave her a kiss on the cheek and handed her the manuscript so he could get down to what was really important; teaching his godson how to make bubbles in his milk.

II

Three months later Phaedra White was a published author.  Sure, there wasn’t an enormous amount of money in a single book, but it was more than what he’d spent to pay Molly and Remus so it seemed profitable enough, and he was more excited than he’d expected to see it on the shelves of the bookstore..

In the next year ‘Phaedra’ wrote nine more books.  More importantly with actual connections in the publishing world he was able to recommend Moony’s services to other authors, to the point that he began to worry that if Remus had too much work he might turn down the requests from Marmaduke Gaylord to edit Phaedra’s books.

“Get the bucket, Pads, I’m going to be ill.  This is the worst thing I've ever read.  Not only do I want to vomit but I think my eyes are bleeding.”

“It can’t be that bad.”  His own book had arrived that morning but Sirius hadn’t known that Remus had started on it already.

“I don’t know how Gilderoy Lockheart got my name but I’m never editing a book for him again.  Not only is it nonsense that clearly didn’t actually happen, but it’s badly written as well.”  It was hard to tell from Moony’s tone what offended him more, but it was probably the bad writing.

“Wasn’t there a Lockheart a few years behind us in school?  A gormless little thing that spent more time on his hair than anything else?”  They didn’t usually pay much attention to Ravenclaws, but if he remembered correctly the boy had annoyed them enough that they’d pranked his hair blue once.

“That’s the one.  What he knows about defense against the Dark Arts would fit in my little finger.”  Remus pushed the manuscript away.  “I can’t even look at this again until I have some chocolate.”

“I picked up a new stock from Honeydukes when I was at Diagon.”  Rule number one for the care and keeping of your Moony was to always have a supply of chocolate on hand.  “Why don’t you grab a bar and we’ll go out for a walk.  It’s beautiful outside.”

“What would I do without you, Pads?  Why don’t we pick up some curry while we’re out, my treat?”  It was a plan, and they left the house shoulder to shoulder.  Later that evening after he’d eaten Remus returned to his work.  Sirius found him laughing, his shoulders relaxed, and not a single bucket around.

“Back at the Lockheart?”  he asked.

“No, I’ve given myself a respite and picked up the latest White novel.  You know this bloke is improving.  It’s really kind of nice to see the balance of romance and friendship in here.  Less sap and more affectionate teasing.”

“I thought that romance writer you edit for was a woman?”  Sirius held his breath for a moment.  Did Moony Know?  He couldn’t possibly.  

“I’m sure that’s what they want people to think, probably because most romance novels are written by women and I’d imagine they sell better.  But I’m practically certain this is a bloke writing this.  If the book centered around a flying motorcycle didn’t tip me off, the fact that the details about female anatomy are more vague than the male anatomy seems quite a clue.”  Remus shrugged.  “I don’t suppose it really matters, though.”

“No, I don’t suppose it does,” Sirius agreed.

II

“I need help.”  The next morning Sirius showed up at the Potter house in the middle of breakfast, not knowing what time it was.  James was still home, which was not the most favorable thing that could have happened.

“Help with what?” Prongs asked as he broke a banana into pieces for Harry.

“Nothing at all,” Sirius lied.  “Just a question for Lils about a girl thing.”

“Dating someone you haven’t mentioned to us yet?”  James cocked his head to the side.  “It’s been a while since you’ve mentioned anyone.”

“Yeah, well it gets to be all the same after a while, doesn’t it?”  Truth was he hadn’t had a date in ages.  His free time was taken up with writing, and the rest of the time he was with Remus, or Prongs and his family or both.  Lily had them over to dinner once a week at least, somehow thinking they couldn't take care of themselves properly.  His social life worked out pretty well, except for the lack of shagging.  He did miss that sometimes, but not enough to bother with finding a date.

“Not when you marry the love of your life and the most perfect person in the world.”  James, of course, couldn’t help looking at his wife.  Sirius was torn between wanting to gag and feeling a tight ball in the pit of his stomach that he’d never felt before.

“It’s been six years since you married her, Prongs.  You are going to be a little less sappy at some point, aren’t you?”  Of course considering how close they’d come to losing each other it was understandable.  And Sirius was happy for them, but as a sibling it was his job to raz James as much as possible.

“If you don’t like it you do know where the fireplace is, Sirius.”  Lily was careful when she stood up, her belly now heavily swollen.  Potter number four was due in less than a month.  “Come on, you can wash up dishes for me while you tell me what you need.”

Dutifully he followed her, ignoring Prongs’ questioning look.  When the water was running he looked around to make sure they weren’t followed.  “I need to know more about girls.”

“Excuse me?”

“Moony’s figured out that Phaedra White is a bloke.  Says there’s not much detail about women’s bits and things in there and that it sounds more like a bloke or something.  I don’t know.  My first thought was that I could use some polyjuice and spend an hour as a woman but that’s a month of work just to make the potion plus it tastes disgusting.”

“I’m not going to ask why you know what polyjuice tastes like.  I don’t want to know who you were or when or if my husband was involved.”  Lily rubbed her stomach absently.  “Your books are selling surprisingly well, I wouldn’t change things now.  Besides you should know at least the basics about women.”

“I know that their breasts are nice and soft, most of them like to snog, and redheads have very good aim.”  Or maybe it was just one specific redhead, who proved his point by throwing a spoon at the back of his head.

“Obviously rumors at school had to be taken with quite a few grains of salt and I know some girls exaggerated because it was good for their reputations for it to be known that they snogged the ‘great’ Sirius Black”  Lily’s voice was dripping with sarcasm and she stuck out her tongue for good measure.  “But you did date a fair bit, and I myself witnessed at least some snogging.  Are you saying you never…”

“Did the no pants dance?  Nah, girls are nice for kissing and easier for dating but for the whole naked tango I prefer a blokes ‘bits.’”  

“Huh.  I was dead certain about you and that Hufflepuff in sixth year.”  Lily shook her head, bemused.  It wasn’t like Sirius had ever hidden the fact that he liked boys as well as girls.  “But if you’re here to ask me about my ‘bits’ that’s where I draw the line.  We’re close, Sirius, but not that close.”

“You are the best sister a bloke could ever hope for, Lil my love, and as such that is a completely disgusting idea that I would never suggest.  I was thinking you might have a friend.”

“I am not pimping out my friends to you, brother dear.”

“You try to set up Remus sometimes.”  And somehow each time Remus came down sick and couldn’t come to dinner.  

“I worry about Remus being alone.  Do you know when he last went on a date?”

“Sometimes in the seventies, probably, and he’s not alone, he has me.  What could be less lonely then having me as a roommate?”  Other than a bit of time during the war he and Remus had lived together since leaving Hogwarts.  It worked well for them both, and honestly the idea of Remus dating made his left shoulder blade go all tense.  They took turns making dinner and washing up, cleaned the flat together on Mondays and read out bits of their books to each other as they shared a sofa in the evening.  If Remus was spending his time with someone else there would be less of the enigmatic little half smile that made his day better.  And at some point Moony would have to share his furry little secret and what if they took it badly and hurt him?  Or worse, spread it about?  Sirius would have to kill them and then he’d go to Azkaban and then Remus really would be alone.  It would be a disaster.

“Sirius have you ever considered…”  Lily stopped, wincing a little and struggling to pull herself up.  “This little one has great aim and likes to kick mummy’s bladder.  You’ll have to excuse us, Sirius.  And find your own dates.”

II

He did find his own dates.  Three of them, in the next month, and twice with the girl from the local coffee shop.  And though the snogging was nice he just couldn’t get interested enough in taking it farther, not even in the name of research.  Sighing he decided he was just going to have to keep doing what he was doing.  Besides, having Moony suspect that a romance novelist was a man was a far sight from having him suspect that it was the man he lived with so he was still safe enough.  After all who in their right mind would think that Sirius Black was writing romance novels?

When he got home from his last date he found a note stuck to his door in Moony’s careful hand.  The word ‘St Mungo’s’ might have worried him if not for the ‘Baby Potter on the way’ underneath.  He took a minute to change into something more comfortable, remembering that Harry had taken hours to arrive, and apparated to the maternity ward.

“You brought work with you?”  Remus was already there, sitting in the waiting room with a quill in one hand and a stack of pages on his lap.

“You know how long Harry took to make an appearance.  Might as well pass the time in a useful manner.”  Remus looked up at him, head cocked to the side.  “How was the date?”

“Bit boring, to be honest.  I think I’m out of practice.”  Dating used to be more interesting, but halfway through he’d found himself wishing that he was on the sofa throwing popcorn at Remus and asking about his latest book.  The editing of the Lockhart book and its ridiculous lies was keeping him well entertained.  “Speaking of the sprog, where is my favorite godson?”

“Lily’s friend Molly has him.  The one will all the redhead kids, you remember?”

“Yeah.”  Molly happened to be the friend that rewrote everything he wrote.  No reason for that to make him nervous, though.  “She was Gid and Fab’s big sister.”

“Yeah, she was.”  It was never easy to think of the casualties of the war so Sirius tried not to think of them, not even the ones with hair and hearts like fire who he’d shagged once.  Gideon had been one of his first crushes in school, and a compatriot in war.

“What are we working on tonight?”  Sirius tried to take a look at his papers.  “Anything good?”

“Something very frustrating, at the moment.  The latest Phaedra White.”

“I thought you said her books were getting better.  Seemed to me you quite enjoyed the last one.”  He took great pride in the fact that he’d made Moony laugh more than once, and that it came back with hardly any notes other than the usual missing commas and split infinitives.  The ending, Moony had declared, was only as sappy as was  necessary for that sort of story and not bad at all.

“It’s stupid.  I’m just the editor, there’s no reason for the direction of the plot to bother me so much.”  Sighing, Remus put the quill down.  

“I’m sure the author is grateful for your notes.  You said she’s listened to them before, hasn’t she?”  Of course he knew the answer.   He’d written three thank you notes for changes the Remus had suggested, and every time Remus had been right.  Merlin’s pants, Phaedra White was actually making best seller lists and had been mentioned in Witches Weekly twice, and Sirius wasn’t too full of himself to know how big a part Moony played in that.  His publisher was trying to make him do a book signing at Flourish and Blotts, and didn’t understand why he kept saying no to the publicity.  

“This isn’t the same situation.  It’s not a small change to a scene, it’s the whole romance that feels wrong.”

“You read me a bit the other night, between the bloke and his best mate that made you laugh.”  He’d found the byplay between his main character and his friend to be the most fun part of the book to write.

“That’s the whole problem.  Byron and George have this great relationship.  The scene where George is trying to convince Byron to go on the date feels almost like…”

“Like what?”  There were times that Sirius totally wished he could talk through scenes with Remus while he was writing.  He’d had to bite his tongue more than once when he remembered that he hadn’t sent a story to Moony to edit yet.

“Like he was trying to cover his own feelings for his friend.  The chemistry between the two blokes is more natural and interesting then the bits with Byron and Melody.”  Remus picked up his quill again.  “Now you see why I can’t write that suggestion. I’m not about to tell someone to trash half their story and turn it into a gay romance.”

“Moony, w-”

“She’s here.”  The door to the waiting room crashed open and Prongs came running out, tripping over his feet in his hurry.  “I’m a dad.”

“You’ve been a dad for almost five years, Prongs,” Sirius couldn’t help but tease him.  

“But never to a girl.”  It was funny how big Prongs’ eyes could get.  “Merlin’s elbow, I have a daughter.”

“Most of the bits are the same, mate.  You’ll be alright.”  Remus shoved his papers and quill into a bag and took out a flask.  “I think this calls for a drink.  Not too much, or Lily will kill us all, but just to celebrate.”

“You think of everything, Moons.”  Sirius shouldn’t have been surprised, it was very like Remus, but there was something about drinking out of the flask immediately after Moony’s lips had touched it that felt different.

“You’re brilliant, both of you.  In a minute we can all go in and you can meet my daughter.”

“Poor Lils, she’s got three kids on her hands now.”  Sirius pointed to the dopey looking expression on Prongs’ face.

“I think you mean four kid, Pads.  After all she has to deal with you as well.”

II

“Her name is Olivia Marlene.”  Lily had that exhausted but happy glow of a new mother when they were let in to see her.  The baby she held looked pretty much the same as Harry the first time they’d seen him, the dark hair on the top of her head and the splotchy looking face.  

“It’s a good name.  Strong.”  Moony nodded solemnly.  “Marlene would have been proud.”

“Marlene would have rolled her eyes and called me daff,” Lily said with only a hint of moisture in her own eyes.  “But if my daughter is half as fierce she’ll be able to do anything.”

“Moony, ready to say hello?”  James took his daughter from Lily and held her close to his chest.

“Let Sirius go first, I’ll hold her in a minute.”  Sirius had been the first five years ago, when Harry had been born.

“Sirius will have his turn but it should be her godfather first, Remus.”  When Lily spoke Sirius had the good fortune to be looking at Remus.  The look on his face and the way his knees buckled were priceless.

“Alright there mate?”  Sirius caught him around the waist and helped him to stand up again.  “Welcome to the club, by the way.”

“So will you, Moony?” James looked at him expectantly.

“I think you’re mental to ask me.”  But Remus carefully took the baby and held her, touching her cheek with a single finger.  Sirius felt for a moment like he’s turned into liquid marshmallow, watching the two of them.

“Welcome to the world, Olivia Potter,” Remus said softly.

It was in that moment that Sirius Black, author of almost seventeen romance novels, realized that he was in love with his best friend.

II

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to leave the country.”  Somehow Sirius made it through the next week.  He wasn’t sure how but it seemed only fair to give Lily a bit of recovery time before bothering her.  A week was as long as he could wait, though, and on the eighth day he flooed over.  

“That’s a bit of a dramatic reaction to not being chosen as godfather for our Olivia.”  

“What?  No, of course you should have gone with Moony.  Brilliant choice.  Probably should have picked him for Harry, bit of an unfair advantage Olivia has.”  Sirius flopped down on the armchair across from Lily.  “Where are the sprogs, by the way?”

“Baby’s sleeping.  Harry and James are at the park so Harry can run off some energy.”

“Prongs is probably the one that needs to run off the energy.  He’s walking on clouds, that one.  Reminds me of the week after you finally said yes to a date.”  Sirius was pretty sure James hadn’t slept for two days straight.  For a week he also hadn’t shut up, even when he did finally sleep.  He’d been well stuck on Lily long before they’d dated.  Sirius finally had an idea of what that was like.

“Probably.  Now tell me what you’re running from.”  Lily put on her best getting-ready-to-mock-you expression.

“Nothing really, only the most stupid thing I’ve probably ever done.”

“I’ve seen some of the stupidest things you’ve done, Sirius.  Many of them.  Unless you’re going to tell me you have to flee the country because aurors are after you I very much doubt it’s as bad as you think.”

“I’vefalleninlovewithMoony.”

“I’m going to need you to actually take a breath at some point, sweetie.  You’re going to turn purple if you don’t and then I’m going to have to explain to James and Harry why you’ve passed out on the floor.”  Lily patted the empty seat on the sofa next to her.  “Now come over here, take a breath, and tell me again what you said.”

Sirius, erring on the side of caution, took three breaths, decided that wasn’t enough, and took three more.  “I’ve fallen in love with Moony.”

“Now there, wasn’t that easier to say the second time?”

“You knew perfectly well what I said.”  Sirius narrowed his eyes.  “You tricked me.”

“Only for your own good.”  She leaned in and wrapped her arms around him.  “I know this bit is scary but you’re going to get through it and you’re going to do it without fleeing the country.”

“Didn’t you hear what I said?”  Maybe having a baby did something odd to your ears.  

“You’ve finally figured out that you’re in love with Remus.”

“Finally?”  Sirius stared at her.  

“Finally,” she confirmed.  “Other than this month because of your crazy idea about your books, when was the last time you dated?”

“Dunno.  That carpenter maybe?”  Sirius had wanted to find out just what else he could do with his hands.  The answer was quite a bit.  Unfortunately not so much in the brain department and even less in the sense of humor department.

“That was three years ago.  What is Remus’s favorite dinner?”

“Steak with mashed potatoes and lots of gravy, popovers, peas.”  It was a meal he liked to make a day or two before a full moon when Moony was feeling a bit low.

“And for dessert?”

“Chocolate, of course.  I found a chocolate fondant recipe the other day I thought I might try.”  Moony was happy to have a chocolate bar but Sirius liked to find new desserts to try.  Moony was always pleased when there was a new dessert.

“Who is the first person you see on Christmas morning and whose present do you spend the most time picking out?”

“Moony, of course.  We live together.”  Last year Moony had put a ridiculous ten galleon restriction on gifts, insisting he didn’t need anything extravagant.  His silly Moony hadn’t thought to specify that it was only a single gift, though.  Sirius had brought thirteen, but they were all under ten galleons each.

“And when you’ve had a really shitty day who is the first person you seek out?”

“Moony.”

“And when something wonderful happens who is the first person you want to tell?”

“Moony.”

“Are we seeing a pattern yet?  And before you tell me it’s just being friends let me remind you that you have created a whole career for yourself solely because you wanted to make sure that Remus had work that he could take pride in.  The entire existence of Phaedra White is basically one really long love letter, which is a bit over the top even for you.”

“I’ve been in love with Moony this whole time?”  It didn’t feel wrong when he said it.  Maybe later he’d be able to look back and figure out when exactly it all started, but for now it seemed to be enough that it was true.  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You were always going to figure it out in your own time.  I couldn’t make you go any faster and risk it not happening at all.”  Lily kissed his cheek.  “If I’d said yes to James in third or fourth year maybe we would still be where we are.  Or maybe I would have written him off as a ponce and I wouldn’t have him or my babies.  Things happen when they’re right, and you can’t rush them.  Or run away from them.”

“What if he doesn’t feel the same?”  Remus rarely dated and never said anything about marriage.  “What if I ruin everything?”

“What if he does?  I don’t have the answer.  I think you have to trust Remus and yourself enough to give him a chance to hear how you feel.”

“And if I fuck it all up?”

“Your friendship has survived war and betrayals and pranks gone horribly wrong, as well as seven years of sharing a dorm and about as long sharing a flat.  I don’t think it’s going to fall under the weight of loving him.”

“You better be right, Lily Potter.  If you’re not I’m going to be crashing on this sofa after I flee the flat in embarrassment, and I shed.”

II

Talking to Moony, of course, was a far too direct and logical choice.  It took an hour for Sirius to decide that no, that just wouldn’t do.

“You alright, Pads?” Remus asked when he spent the second hour after he returned home pacing.

“Just thinking about Christmas,” he answered distractedly.

“It’s May, I think you have some time before you need to worry.”  Remus caught his hand as he walked past.  “You look like you have one of your headaches.  Why don’t you sit down and I’ll give you a massage?  Or I could read something to you?”

“No books.”  Books are what had gotten him into the whole mess in the first part.  How could he tell Moony how he felt without also confessing the whole story of Phaedra White?  Why had he never considered that at some point Moony would have to know about The Brilliant Idea?  “I think I might just go to bed.”

“I’ll bring you some tea, it will help you sleep better.”  True to his word Remus showed up ten minutes later with a cup of tea, cream in first and half a spoon of sugar, just the way he liked.  He’d valiantly tried to fall asleep in those ten minutes, but had failed completely and sat up to accept the tea.  

“Thank you.”

“You know you can tell me if something is bothering you, right?”

“There’s no one in the world I trust more than you,” Sirius said honestly.  The tea was too hot still but he sipped it anyway, knowing he’d either burn the tip of his tongue or the roof of his mouth but not caring.  

“It’s a bit odd, isn’t it, Prongs and Lily having two kids now?  They’re well and truly settled, like proper adults.  Might make someone think about it a bit, wonder if they’re wanting something different.”  Remus settled on the edge of the bed, looking up at the ceiling as if he could see the stars overhead.

“Do you think about something different?  Finding your someone and settling down with a couple of sprogs?”  

“Merlin no.  That sort of life’s never been for me, even if I could find someone who wasn’t put off by my special little problem.  Besides I like things the way they are.  You know how much I loved marking up papers with red ink in school and I get to add commas and edit dangling participles to my heart’s content now, with the added bonus of actually making a proper amount of money.  And I couldn’t possibly ever be lonely or bored with you around.  If I want to play with a kid I just have to pop over to see Prongs and Lily.  Seems to me being a godfather is like the best bits of being a parent without all the rest.”  Remus shrugged and looked sideways at Sirius.  “I always figured you’d follow James’ example at some point.”

“I would have had to start developing a crush more than a decade ago, wouldn’t I, to really emulate Prongs?”  It made him stop and wonder for a moment, tea slopping over his chin as he stopped halfway to his mouth.  Just when had he started falling in love with Moony?  Maybe he was more like Prongs then he thought, with less of the whinging.  He couldn’t remember a time when making Moony smile hadn't been a priority, or when Moony touching him hadn’t been a comfort.

“Not like that, of course.  I mean the whole home hearth and family sort of thing, and making me a godfather.”

“I like my family just the way it is.”  It was a little too close to the truth, and Sirius faked a yawn.  “Night Moony.”

“Night Padfoot.  Sleep well.”  Despite being the first to say goodnight, Sirius was a little dismayed that Moony actually left his room.

II

The next day Sirius stopped by to pick up his post, finding a rather sizable cheque, yet another request for a book signing, and the edited return of his most recent book.  Remus must have mailed it when he’d been with Lily.  Flipping through the pages he found the usual red marks adding commas and rearranging the occasional unclear sentence structure, but nothing about the plot of the novel.  He hadn’t made any of the suggestions that he’d mentioned at the hospital.

Sirius took the book home and read through the story again.  Remus was right.  The supposed romance of the story felt flat and predictable when compared to the banter between the best friends, and George was clearly nurturing a crush on his friend.  He only wanted Byron to be with Melody because he thought it was what his friend wanted.  It was a mess.  Sirius was a mess too, but at the moment it was a lot easier to fix things for Byron and George.  All he had to do was cut half the book and rework the rest to make sure two best friends realized that they were actually in love.

When he was done he sent it off to Molly with a bonus payment and a warning that he might not be needing her help anymore.  She sent it back three days later with a cheerful little note letting him know that her twins kept her quite busy and while it had been fun to read his stories first she was fine with the change in things.  Also it was her favorite story yet.

“I need to borrow my godson.”  The day after he sent the manuscript back to Remus for editing he left the house early in the morning.  He couldn’t bear to be around when Moony saw it for the first time.  Better to let him read it and get it all over and done with at once, no matter what way it came out.

“You’re not back on the fleeing the country plan, are you?  Because you can’t take Harry to Spain.”  Lily raised one eyebrow.

“Why would Sirius flee the country?”  James held his daughter but stared at Sirius in confusion.  “You didn’t actually break into your cousin’s vault at Gringotts, did you?”

“I decided anything Narcissa owned would probably have cooties.  Not worth the risk.”  Sirius shrugged.  “I won’t even take him out of the county, Lils.  I promise.”

“Pads?  Lily?” James pushed, not having a clue what was happening but suspecting that his wife knew a fair bit more.

“Not now, Prongs.  I’ll tell you tomorrow if the world doesn’t crash around my ears today.”  

Lily, fortunately, said yes and Sirius was able to mostly distract himself with a trip to the zoo and far more ice cream than an almost five year old and a twenty-five year old should eat.  He returned Harry in time for tea but warned Lily that he probably wasn’t very hungry.

“I’m proud of you,” Lily said before he left, kissing his cheek.

“I’d probably be proud of you too if I knew what the bloody hell was going on,” Prongs added, kissing his other cheek.  Sirius said thank you to them both, decided against the floo, and apparated home.  He sat on the front stoop for half an hour before daring to open the door.  The flat was completely silent.  

“Moony?”  Maybe he wasn’t at home.  Maybe he hadn’t gotten the package or had been too busy to read it today.  Maybe he had read it and had run for the hills.  Maybe he hated it and hated Sirius and was in his room packing for a trip to Zanzibar.  For a minute he worried that Moony really was gone because the flat, even Moony’s room, were empty.  The last place to check was what they grandly called the balcony, which was really just a fire escape with a upside down rusty cauldron as a seat and a single pot with a dittany plant they barely kept alive.  Moony sat with his back to the wall, looking out at the view.  They were lucky enough to be on the side of the building that looked out over a park rather than another building.

“Hey.”  He settled on the sill of the open window, which was the only other place to sit but also meant that Remus couldn’t go anywhere without stepping over him, which could come in handy.  “How was your day?”

“I read a book.”  Moony didn’t look at him.  Sirius couldn’t tell what he was thinking at all, other than that he looked like he should be smoking.  They’d both given it up when Harry was born, though, and that went double now that Oliva had come along.

“Yeah?”  He took a deep breath and waited.

“Yeah.  I thought it was weird, at first.  It’s the same Phaedra White book I just edited, and I thought it was a mistake until I got through the first couple of chapters and it’s been completely rewritten.  I didn’t say anything about the story to anyone, other than you, but it was like they looked inside my head and saw how I wished the story had been written.  George was so certain that Byron was going to propose to his girl but instead there’s this scene, this magical scene where Byron says that he couldn’t fall for Melody because he was already in love.  That it had been George all along.  Sometimes your best mate is also the love of your life.”  Remus was still staring down at the park and Sirius wanted to shake him, or beg him to turn his head, or just kiss him and take his chances that Moony wouldn’t throw him over the side of the balcony.  

“Do you think that’s true?” he asked.  “Even when the best mate is a complete disaster who might be keeping a secret or two, but only because they want their best friend to be happy and not have to worry about anything?”

“Do I think that Byron and George are in love?”  When he finally turned, Moony had a perfectly inscrutable expression on his face, the one he used in school that let him tell McGonagall that he didn’t know anything about a prank that had in fact been his brainchild.  When he used it on anyone else it made Sirius smile.  Facing it himself was agonizing.

“Do you believe that sometimes your best mate can also be the love of your life?”  He’d channeled everything he felt and thought into Byron.  Remus set a great store in books and the written word, and Sirius hoped that maybe works written in black and white would make his argument for him.

“I think the hardest thing to believe is that I could possibly be that extraordinarily lucky.”  With the blink of his eye Sirius could see all the vulnerability Moony had been hiding.  The hope and the fear, the trust and the love.  The love he saw there knocked the breath out of him.

“Merlin, I think you just scared five years off my life, you were that hard to read.”  He pulled himself through the window and squatted in front of Remus.  “Do you really think you could love me?”

“You deserve to be scared, you bloody git.  You had me secretly editing books you wrote and somehow you became an author for the lark of it.”  Remus rubbed his forehead, like he did when something was puzzling him or the writing of something was particularly confusing.  “I’ve been in love with you for ages, Pads, and I find there’s generally very little thinking involved.  It’s a simple fact.”

“I don’t think there’s anything simple about it.”  Sirius Black was the author of seventeen and a half books, and it seemed to him there was only one possible option for what came next.  He kissed Moony, of course.  Kissed him like Byron had kissed George, like Psych had once kissed Cupid and Darcy had kissed Elizabeth.  The kiss had been brewing up inside him for some time and he did not stop until the air was gone from his lungs.  And then he said the words that he planned on repeating every day for the rest of his life.  “I love you Moony.”

“I love you too, Phaedra White.”

Sirius groaned, and laughed, and kissed his Moony all over again.  It was Absolutely Brilliant.