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arkadijxpancakes · 2 months ago

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Yes. The Weasleys had too many kids. An analysis. (Part 1 of 2)

Everyone who read Harry Potter read about the prejudices regarding the Weasleys: They all have red hair, are poor and have more kids than they can afford. Insert a sneering Malfoy here.

The books were adamant that that was not the case. The Weasleys are depicted as the best family in the books. (Just look at the others. The Dursleys were narrow-minded, bigoted and abusive. The Malfoys were bigoted terrorists. The Lovegoods were weird. Let’s not even start about Merope and Riddle.)

However, if you look closer, the prejudices have some truth to them: They had more kids than they could afford. However, money isn’t the issue here, not really.

Yes, the Weasleys are clearly depicted as members of the working class. They don’t have much money and fall back on second-hand stuff a lot of the time. Ron in particular is shown to be using hand-me-downs in book one.

However, they don’t live in abject poverty. The family owns their own home on their own land. They have a garden to grow their own vegetables and they have chickens. This means that food scarcity shouldn’t be a big issue for them, because they can produce a lot of it on their own. (Magic should make this even easier, because they can use it for the gardening stuff. And if we assume that you can duplicate food, this should keep everyone well-fed.)

The main issue when it comes to money isn’t that they don’t have anything. They have clearly enough money to stay comfortably over water. They just don’t have enough money to buy all the fancy shit the wizarding world uses as status symbols. (Like racing brooms and dress robes.)

Could things be better, money-wise? Sure. But one can have a loving, comfortable childhood, even with second-hand clothes and working class food. So no. It’s not about the money.

It’s about time.

And it's also about how the parents divide that time (and the work that comes along with it.)

The Weasleys follow a family structure one would expect from a muggle family of their time (the second half of the 20th century): Arthur is the one who goes out to work and earns money, while his wife Molly is a stay-at-home-mother who takes care of their home and kids. It’s also just their nuclear family that lives in the burrow. There are no other relatives (no grandparents and no aunts or uncles, either) living there.

I find this a little bit weird, tbh. The nuclear family (parents and kids) living alone, without any other relatives and with the father as the sole breadwinner, is a pretty new development. The practice only really established itself after the Statute of Secrecy went into effect. It developed first in the upper classes (who used this to flaunt their wealth) and in urban centers (where there was no space to live together with your extended family.) Before this, living with one's extended family was very common, especially in rural areas, where it was beneficial to stick together. The Weasley’s don’t really have a reason to live as a nuclear family. There is no need for wizards to follow the Muggle trend, and things were different before the statute. Living with other, adult family members would also be beneficial, especially for Molly. And the books do suggest that the extended family is quite large, so “They don’t live with other relatives, because they don’t have any” doesn’t fit their situation either.

This is a common theme for Rowling, by the way. She tends to ignore the extended families of her characters, whenever it is possible. The numbers of grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins that get mentioned in the book is incredibly low. (The only character who seems to have close connections to his extended family is Neville – and that’s because the other members of his nuclear family are completely absent because of health reasons.)

Anyway. When we look back at the Weasleys, this leaves Molly basically as a tradwife. (Minus the religious baggage.) But let's start at the beginning.

(Note: I will focus on the books in this. I don’t consider the games canon and will not use them as a source.) Arthur and Molly were born around 1950. We know that he went to Hogwarts from 1961 to 1968. They were close enough in age to start a relationship while still at Hogwarts, and they married shortly after graduating. For this to work, she must have been in his year or maybe the year below or above.

Bill was born in 1970 and was followed by six siblings, the last who was born in 1981. So from the age of ca. 20 to the age of ca. 33 Molly was either pregnant or nursing at least one baby at any given time. (There might have been a short break in that pattern between Charlie and Percy, but it only got worse after that.)

As I said before, Molly and Arthur seem to have a very traditional division of labor between them: He works at the ministry and earns money, she takes care of their home and kids. This means that Molly has drawn the short end of the stick.

While Arthur is working one job 9-5, Molly has to work three jobs and at least one of them is 24/7. Let’s pick them apart:

Her first job is to take care of the home. Molly cleans the house and does the laundry. It is also very likely that she is not only responsible for cooking, but for food production in general. This means that she takes care of the garden and chickens. This would be pretty exhausting, if not for her magic. She can likely cut down on time and effort by using magic for most of those tasks.

On top of this, she is also producing at least some of the clothing her family wears. We don't see her sewing, but she knits a lot. She is using magic for that, too.

Her second job is to raise their kids. Molly is their primary caregiver and does most of the parenting. This is a difficult job to begin with, but there are seven of them. This is where her workload starts to stretch her thin. It can’t be easy to do the laundry, while Ginny needs to be fed, Bill and Charlie are arguing in the backyard, and the twins have just vanished. Magic is less helpful here, because a lot of the work requires her to interact with her kids. She can’t really flick her wand to speed that up.

On top of that - and this is where things get even worse - there doesn't seem to be any kind of elementary school in Wizarding Great Britain. At the very least, the books do not mention any form of primary education and Hogwarts seems to be Ron’s first school. But Hogwarts still requires its students to be able to read, write and do math. Having some education about the Wizarding World couldn’t hurt, either.

However, someone has to teach the kids. And this someone is probably Molly, because Arthur is at work, and they don’t have the money for a private tutor. They cant sent their kids to an elementary school, because there is none. (And they obviously did not send them to a muggle school.)

So this is her third job. This is another job she can’t really speed up with magic, because she can’t hex the knowledge into her kids’ brains. (Or at least I hope she can’t, because everything else would be disturbing.)

This means Molly has to take care of their home, produce their food, take care of their kids and teach them elementary school-stuff. All while being pregnant and/or nursing for circa 13 years straight.

Her workload just isn’t doable for a single person. It might have started off okay, when she only had Bill and Charlie, and it probably got better once most kids had left the house to study at Hogwarts. But the years in between must have been hell. And she did not really have any help to do it.

Arthur was off to work most days and seems to spend quite a lot of time on his hobby. Additionally, he just doesn’t seem to be all that involved as a father and seems to take care mostly of the fun stuff.

His parenting style is much more relaxed than Molly’s, too. He’s probably the parent the kids go to when they want to do something their mother would say no to. This, of course, makes parenting even harder for her, because she doesn’t just have to deal with the kids, but also with Arthur’s parenting decisions. There are no other adult family members around to help her, either. They also don’t have the money to hire help. (No wonder Molly dreamed of having her own slave house elf. It would have allowed her to drastically reduce her workload. It’s a really disgusting wish, but I understand where it comes from.)

This is where the family dynamics probably took their first severe hit: It’s very likely that Molly’s workload left her with more work than she was able to do consistently. Whether Arthur pulled his weight in that regard is questionable (and he was at work for most of the day anyway.) She also had no other adults to help her, so she probably offloaded her workload elsewhere: her kids.

Yes. I think it is very likely that the Weasleys parentified their kids, especially Bill, Charlie and Percy. We don’t see it with Bill and Charlie, probably because they had already left the house when Harry meets the family. Still, it’s a little weird that both of them went to live so far away from home. Yes, sure, exploring tombs in Egypt and taming dragons in Romania is fun and exciting in and off itself – but being so far away from home that mom can’t rope you into household chores and babysitting duty is probably a really nice bonus. It would also relax their familial relationships quite a bit, because moving away gives them control over when and how they want to engage. (And it’s probably easier to be the fun big brother to your younger siblings when you aren’t required to watch and control them every day.)

We do see it with Percy, however. He looks after and take responsibility for his younger siblings a lot, especially at Hogwarts. You can see it in the way he looks after Ginny and how he’s constantly at odds with Fred and George because they refuse to follow any rules.

Fuck, he still does this after the big row with his father. Yes, the letter he sends to Ron is pretty obnoxious, but he still wrote it. He did not need to. At that point he had cut all contact, after all. He clearly cared for his younger brother and wanted to look out for him, even if he did it in the most annoying way possible. It would be interesting to know whether he also wrote to Ginny or the twins or not.

Also, did I mention that the Weasleys have too many kids?

They have too many kids.

It’s a numbers game, really. The more kids you have, the more time you have to use for household chores (you need to clean more, wash more, cook more, etc.) You also have less time to spend time with each kid individually. This is especially true for quality time – so time that isn’t spent on chores or education. Time that is spent playing and talking with each other, just to enjoy each other's company.

Molly is already working three jobs. She doesn’t really have any opportunity to spend time with her kids equally. She’s too busy looking after the home and teaching the older ones, while watching the younger ones and making sure the twins don’t burn the house down.

I just don’t see her spending quality time with her kids regularly, because of this. It’s just difficult to talk with Charlie about his favorite dragons or read something to Percy or to play with Ron, when there is always someone else who needs her more. Full diapers. Empty stomachs. Unyielding stains of unknown origin on Arthur's work robes. A sudden explosion on the second floor. And probably everything at the same time and all the time.

So yeah. Chances are that her attention and her affection can be pretty hard to come by at times. (To a certain degree, this also applies to Arthur, because he is away from home so much.)

Let’s look at the timeline.

It probably starts pretty harmless:

1970 - Bill is born, and he’s the only kid for two years. Yeah, it’s Molly’s first child, and she is a really young mother, but she is a stay-at-home-mum, and it’s just one kid. It’s mostly her and Bill who are at home, and her workload isn’t all that big, because she can use magic for most stuff. The war has started, but it probably hasn’t kicked into overdrive just yet, so this shouldn’t affect her too much either.

1972 – Charlie is born. Molly’s workload is expanding, but things should still be pretty manageable. Also, they don’t have another kid for almost four years. This allows Molly to adjust to caring for two kids. She can also relax from both pregnancies and births. If it wasn’t for the war, this might be her favorite years as a mother.

When Arthur is involved in parenting Bill and Charlie, it’s probably on the weekends. I can imagine him taking them out to do fun stuff, so their mother can get some rest. It’s probably a great time for him, because he can bond with his boys. I can’t see him do much more than that, though. Molly has a handle on things, and interfering could be seen as overstepping.

1976 – Percy is born. This is probably the moment, where the attention-distribution in the family gets a little bit wonky. Molly has three kids now, and it’s the middle of the war. Bill is almost six, which means that she has to start teaching him, while simultaneously nursing Percy and keeping Charlie entertained/away from trouble. This is probably still manageable. She can wait a little longer with teaching Bill, so she can teach him and Charlie together. She can also hand him (and maybe Charlie) over to Arthur, so he can teach him/them on weekends.

Additionally, Arthur is probably still taking Bill and Charlie out for some bonding-fun-time. However, the war is in full swing now, so leaving the house gets increasingly dangerous. Their trips will get shorter and stay closer to home. They will happen less frequently, too. He will also end up working more because of the war, doing overtime much more frequently. When he is home, he is going to be exhausted, as a result.

1978 – Fred and George are born. The attention-distribution in the family falls off a cliff.

This is when Molly's workload starts to become overwhelming. Charlie will be 6 at the end of the year, Bill will be 8. She has to start teaching them, if she hasn’t already. Otherwise, Bill will not be ready when he starts Hogwarts.

And on top of everything, Molly has to take care of the twins. She has to do everything that needs to be done for a newborn – times two.

So her workload explodes. Molly is raising five kids, now. She needs to educate Bill and Charlie, nurse Fred and George, and has to make sure Percy doesn’t fall to the wayside completely. She also has her household chores that aren’t related to her kids. The war is still raging on. Arthur is probably tied up at work most of the time, and when he is home, he’s exhausted. And Molly will be pregnant again in a year. (Really, why do they have so many kids during a war? One or two, I would understand, but this is getting irresponsible.)

This is probably the time when Bill has to take over at least some chores, not just to learn how to do them, but to take some pressure off of his mother. This might not be parentification yet, but it will get worse over time. I assume he has to look after his younger brothers a lot.

On top of all that, it is increasingly hard to shield the kids from the war. At least Bill and Charlie are old enough to understand that things are really, really wrong and scary. And there is not much Molly can do about it.

1980 - Ron is born. The twins are already old enough to open cupboards. Molly is not having a great time. She probably hands over Percy to Bill and Charlie (“Go, play with your little brother!”), so she can take care of baby Ron while keeping an eye on the twin shaped chaos that is growing by the day. She will be pregnant again in a couple of months.

Bill (who will be 10 at the end of the year) and Charlie (8) still require teaching. Percy (4) isn’t old enough just yet, but he will be, soon. (And, let’s face it: It’s Percy. Chances are that he wants to learn, even now.)

The war is still in full swing. Arthur is still overworked and underpaid. Everyone is tired and scared. This also affects the kids. There is probably a lot of pressure on Bill as the oldest brother to watch over his younger siblings, to make sure all of them stay safe. They don’t spend much time outside their home, because it’s just too dangerous to do so.

Around 1980/81 is also the time when Molly’s brothers Fabian and Gideon die. (Gideon can be seen in the photograph that was taken of the Order before James and Lily went into hiding, so he was still alive back then. But we know that he dies soon after the photograph was taken.) Molly never talks about her brothers in canon, but this must have been horrible for her.

1981 – Ginny is born. They are seven kids now. Fabian and Gideon will be dead by the end of the year (if they aren’t already.) Molly’s workload is at its peak, while her ability to pay equal amounts of attention to her kids is at an all-time low. She’s grieving, the rest of her family is in danger, and Arthur is stuck at the ministry. This means that she will likely lean on Bill’s support even more. As Charlie is 8 now (and will be 9 at the end of the year), Molly might consider him old enough to help, so he might see an increase in responsibility, too. At this point, we are in parentification-territory.

With each day, the twins grow more into the troublemakers we see in canon. This sucks away attention and affection from their siblings (simply because they need to be watched and disciplined).

I think the following years are very formative for the family dynamics between the kids. It’s probably less pronounced for Bill and Charlie (who are stuck with chores and babysitting-duty and will leave for Hogwarts soon-ish) and Ginny (who gets more attention because she is the youngest child and only girl). It’s worse for the others. Percy, Fred, George and Ron are basically in direct competition for their mother's attention. I think the dynamic develops as follows:

Fred and George are active and pretty extroverted. They explore a lot and start to play pranks on their family members. This is overall harmless, but Molly has to pay attention to them, to make sure that no one accidentally gets hurt. From this, the twins learn that they can get Molly’s attention by causing trouble, so they will lean into it even more.

This sucks away attention from Percy and Ron. It causes Percy to veer hard into the opposite direction: He tries to gain Molly’s attention by following all her rules and fulfilling her wishes. This earns him her affection and will turn him into her golden child in the long run. It will also put a strain on his relationship with the twins, because Molly compares them a lot, especially when angry. This will cause Percy to perform the “Good boy”-role even harder (because he doesn’t want to be treated like the twins), while they start to resent him on some level.

Ron on the other hand is still too young to affect the family dynamic on his own. He internalizes that his mother cares more about his siblings and that there is nothing he can do about it.

The only good news: At the end of the year, the war ends. This will bring a lot of relief. (It’s short term relief for now, things will need some time to go back to normal.)

However, the end of the war also means, that Percy gets a pet. Either late in 1981 or early in 1982 he (or another member of the family) finds a rat that is missing a finger on its front paw. Percy keeps him and calls him Scabbers.

We all know who Scabbers is, of course. I just want to highlight how fucked up this situation is. Percy is 5, when he adopts him. Because he was a little kid, he probably took him everywhere without a second thought – into the bathroom, into his bed, you know, everywhere. There is probably no part of Percy’s body Scabbers hasn’t seen. Percy probably told him everything, too, all his worries, all of his fears. It’s just creepy.

And keep in mind, Scabbers – Peter – is not just a random wizard. He is a Death Eater and mass murderer. We don’t know if he ever hurt Percy (there are fanfics that do explore that possibility). He probably didn’t, but the idea alone is nightmare fuel.

To get this back on track: This could have impacted the sibling-relationship, too. It depends on whether the other kids were allowed to keep pets.

With that, we are done with the war and with Molly’s time being pregnant. The family dynamic is already fucked up – and it will get worse, as the kids get older. However, this post is long enough, already. So we’ll take a break here. Next time, we will look at how the dynamics shift, once the kids start to go to Hogwarts. See ya!

#harry potter #hp #hp-meta #weasley-meta #anti jkr #weasley family #the weasleys #molly weasley #arthur weasley #bill weasley #charlie weasley #percy weasley #fred weasley #george weasley #ron weasley #ginny weasley #weasley family critical #family dynamics #fandom meta

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roosterforme · 1 year ago

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Batting Practice Part 31 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Nothing melts Bradley's heart quite like Everett's excitement for his upcoming adoption. While the three of you count down to the big day, there are unexpected houseguests to deal with and neverending happiness to absorb.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, swearing, smut

Length: 5200 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader

Check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun! Batting Practice masterlist.

"Mom! Dad!" Everett shouted, running up the sidewalk when Molly arrived to drop him off at home on Monday evening. "Aunt Molly said I'm getting a baby cousin in March!"

Bradley watched as Molly hustled along the sidewalk behind Everett, and he went to meet her to get his soon to be son's overnight bag. "Thanks for watching him for the weekend," Bradley said, looping the bag over his shoulder while he thought about how sexy you'd looked in Palm Springs wearing your collar and leash. Then he glanced at where you were giving Everett a big hug on the front porch, and he thought about how hot you were even in full mom mode.

"We had fun," Molly said, stifling a yawn. "Bob took him on a hike, and then we did math problems with gummy bears. He's all ready to start second grade." Then she grinned at Bradley and said, "You owe me one for packing your wife's weekend bag with you in mind."

Bradley grunted, cracking his knuckles to try to keep his composure. Only about two more hours until Everett was in bed for the night and he could have his Kitten all to himself. "Yeah, I definitely owe you one."

Molly clasped her hands in front of her baby bump, clearly very pleased that he had enjoyed his wedding gift. Then she bent to kiss Everett and tell him goodbye. "I'll call you after your first day of school tomorrow, Ev. Love you."

"Bye, Aunt Molly!" Everett waved as Bradley's sister-in-law drove away.

Bradley scooped Everett up in his arms and followed you inside. While he had enjoyed the two nights away with you immensely, he missed Ev's laugh and his smile so much. "Pancakes for dinner? And then I'll show you the baseball jersey we got for you in Palm Springs?"

"Yes!" Everett cheered. And then as he helped Bradley mix some chocolate chips into the pancake batter with a spoon, he asked, "Did you adopt me yet?"

"Oh," Bradley grunted, pausing to really look at Ev. Wide, sincere eyes looked back up at him. He thought back to the very first day of tee ball, remembering just how much he really liked talking to Everett right from the start. How he only grew to appreciate him more and more. And he let himself feel all of the overwhelming love right now that he had for this kid. "I wish, Ev. Your mom has to call some people first, and make a few appointments. It might take a few weeks." Bradley didn't want to tell him that it might be next year before anything was finalized.

"Okay," he replied, and his shoulders slumped with dejection. "But I thought it would be cool to tell everyone at school tomorrow that I got a dad over the summer."

Bradley wrapped him in a hug and just held him for a few seconds. "You can still tell them that. I'm your dad, for sure, kiddo. It doesn't matter if it's not official yet."

"Okay," Everett whispered against Bradley's chest. "But when can I write my name is Everett Bradshaw?"

Anything. Anything in the world. Bradley would do anything for this kid. As he held him and thought about how much his life had changed, he figured the fact that he would do whatever it took to make Everett feel happy and loved was enough to make him a good dad. He'd learn all the other details over time. He would probably make more mistakes and inadvertently teach Ev more bad words. But he would do anything for him.

Bradley kissed the top of his head. "Not quite yet. But you know what? You and your mom can probably both start using Bradshaw for your last name around the same time, so that's good, right?" he asked, his voice not much more than a harsh whisper. Everett hugged him tighter, and Bradley didn't ever want to let go, because he found as much comfort in these hugs as Ev seemed to.

And then that was when you walked into the kitchen to find Bradley with tears in his eyes as Everett clung to him.

"I thought we were trying on our new jerseys?" you asked, and Bradley pulled you into the hug as well.

He smothered your face in kisses before he said, "That's for after dinner. And then we're gonna pack Ev's bag for school and watch Toy Story. But first just let me hold you both."

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The next day was pure chaos. Everett begged Bradley to drop him off at school on his way to North Island, and on your way to work, you answered your phone when you saw that Molly was calling. She was crying.

"What's wrong?" you asked her, trying to navigate your way through traffic, thinking you may have to turn around and head to her condo.

"Bob's being deployed," she sobbed, and your heart clenched.

"When?"

"In a few weeks," she said, sniffling into the phone. "I can't do this without him."

You assumed she meant she couldn't handle her pregnancy on her own, but when you tried to ask, she just cried louder. You could barely understand what she was saying, and you already knew you were going to have to have a conversation with Bradley about having her stay at your house.

"Molly, it's going to be okay. You'll be great, and I'll be around to help you. And so will Bradley."

She laughed through her tears. "My turd-in-law likes me now, because I didn't pack any real clothing for your honeymoon."

You rolled your eyes. "He has always liked you. I think that just made him like you more. Let me call you back later tonight?"

"Okay." Molly's voice was soft and small as you ended the call, and you hated hearing her like that. But you had other important things to take care of.

As you parked your car and made your way into your office, you rolled your eyes at Frank. You had bigger things to deal with than him. Once you were settled at your desk, you debated with yourself about which phone call to make first: Danny or your lawyer. You decided on Danny, and when he answered after seven rings with a groggy hello, you got right to the point.

"Any chance you were planning on responding to the petition I sent you for child support?"

You could practically hear him rolling his eyes, and now you were thankful you caught him first thing in the morning. "I have one hundred and twenty days to comply. And that's according to my expensive lawyer that you're forcing me to pay for. I hope you realize that this would mean there's less money for Everett."

Now you were the one rolling your eyes. "It's already been months, Danny."

"I have one hundred and twenty days," he reiterated, practically snarling at you through the phone. "You'll hear more about it when I'm good and ready. I still can't believe you're trying to destroy my life like this. You weren't money hungry prior to a few months ago. And I could still have that tee ball boyfriend of yours charged for entering my home without permission."

"He's my husband now," you said, keeping your voice as steady as possible.

"Good for you," he replied with a sarcastic chuckle.

"You're right. It's very good for me," you said, raising your voice over his horrible laughter. "I was just calling to let you know that you're about to be served with some papers that will negate the child support petition. And if you don't comply with what I want, I'll drag you through the legal system until you're out of money."

The line went silent, and you had to bite your tongue, forcing him to be the first one to speak again. "What the fuck do you want?"

You took a deep breath and thought about your husband and your son and your sister and how much love was in your life now. "I would like to give you exactly what you hoped for: nothing. I can remove Everett and myself from your life completely if you agree to do something for me."

After another long pause, Danny said, "Name your terms."

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Bradley was anxious to learn how your conversation with your lawyer had gone. But when he got home, it was just you there in your little black skirt and high heels, standing in the kitchen sipping a bottle of tequila.

"Whoa," he said, rushing toward you and taking the bottle out of your hand. But you were smiling.

"I was going to make us some margaritas, but I got carried away," you whispered, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him. Bradley tasted the tang of the liquor on your lips and tongue.

"Does this mean you have good news, Kitten?" He was holding you tight to him, forehead pressed to yours as he waited, hoping to hear what would make him happier than anything else right now.

"What are you doing eight weeks from today?" you asked, raking your fingers gently along his scalp.

"Baby, if you don't tell me right now that I get to adopt Ev in eight weeks, I'm going to cry."

You smiled and pressed your lips to his. "You get to adopt Ev eight weeks from today. We have the date set at the courthouse."

"How?" he asked as his eyes filled with tears. "How did I get this lucky? In less than a week, I got myself a wife and a court date!"

He wasn't sure how he could be this happy and also be crying so much. But when you told him that you got Danny to agree to your terms, he had to wipe away his tears even though he was smiling.

"Where's Ev now?" he asked, kissing along your neck, overcome with so much relief.

"Molly picked him up from school. She's going to bring him home after dinner."

"So, we're alone?" he asked, smiling against the curve of your jaw and hiking up your skirt. "We're alone. Until I invite Molly to come stay with us while Bob is deployed."

Bradley's hand's froze on the bare backs of your thighs. "I'm sorry, what?"

You kissed and nipped at his lips, but he pulled a few inches away from you. "Bob is being deployed."

"Yeah," he replied. "I got that part."

You rolled your eyes and started to unzip his flight suit. "And Molly is going to be lonely and overwhelmed, and I think she might want to come here for a few weeks."

Bradley groaned. "You can't follow up the good news about Everett with this devastating announcement, Kitten."

"Bradley!" you scolded, playfully smacking his chest as he yanked your skirt up until he was palming your ass.

"All I'm saying is that Molly is like this annoying little sister that I never wanted, and even though I do love her, she's going to cramp our style, Baby."

"How so?" you asked, easing your hand down the front of his flight suit and stroking his cock.

"She'll have to sleep in the Phillies room," he whispered. "You know that's where we've been having our quickies."

"Hmm, you're right about that, Coach. Think I could change your mind with a blowjob?"

Bradley grunted and thrust against your hand. He tilted your chin up and kissed you. "Your lips on my cock could get me to agree to anything, and you know it."

You nodded at him with all the confidence in the world before you sank to your knees.

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Spending several weeks waiting was not ideal. Everett was asking nearly every day if it was almost November yet. Now it was barely October, but the three of you had gotten into a routine. Bradley made breakfast every morning while you packed lunches. Then he dropped Everett off at school, and you went to work a little early. When you picked Everett up from school, most days it was just so he could rush through his homework and dinner and spend an hour or two at the park playing and practicing baseball with Bradley.

Your husband was true to his promises. And he seemed to like practicing baseball as much as Everett did. When you joined them one day, the October air was cool enough to trick you into believing you could be somewhere besides southern California. And Everett was hitting Bradley's pitches so hard, it was unbelievable.

"I thought you were the famous Bradshaw?" you called out, teasing Bradley before he threw a pitch. "Don't you pitch for the Navy league? That second grader is kicking your butt."

He glared at you out of the corner of his eye and then dropped his ball and glove and chased you until he caught you in his arms. Your laughter was so loud as he kissed you and tickled you, and you tried to get away, but he was too strong.

"I take it back! I take it back!" you gasped, out of breath from laughing. "You're amazing! The best pitcher I've ever seen."

He conceded by hugging you from behind instead of tickling you. Then he whispered, "I'm not even kidding, Kitten, he's so fucking good at baseball." Then he kissed you one last time and returned to pitch a slider to Everett who looked permanently happy these days. And when he hit the pitch easily, you realized you were permanently happy, too.

But that night, you had to deal with the thing you knew was coming at some point. It was late, and you were in bed with Bradley's mouth on your pussy. You were close, so so so close. But your phone kept ringing softly on your nightstand, and you could tell it was Molly by the ringtone.

"Don't answer it," Bradley grunted, licking a long stripe from your opening to your clit. "You can call her back when I'm done with you."

So you laced your fingers through his pretty curls and rode his face, whining his name as your phone started ringing again. Bradley slowed down his tempo, just like he knew you needed, and when he wrapped his lips around your clit, that prickle of his mustache on your sensitive skin sent you. He squeezed your thighs as you planted your feet, and you came so hard, you were seeing stars. Your knee was shaking. He was unrelenting. Your vision blurred every time you blinked, but a beat later, Bradley's body was wrenched away from yours, and he was out the bedroom door and at the top of the steps with a baseball bat in his hand.

Then you heard Molly's soft voice calling up from the bottom of the stairs. "I'm sorry. It's just me."

You tried to scramble for your clothing, but you realized Bradley had undressed you over by the bathroom. And then you realized that he was standing there in his snug underwear with a massive erection, holding the bat like he was about to take someone's head off with it. He must have heard Molly let herself in the house.

As you located your clothing on the floor, Bradley lowered the bat, nodded and said, "Your sister's here."

"Thanks," you told him, yanking your panties on and slipping into his undershirt. You kissed him quickly as you rushed down the stairs and into the living room where she was standing with a tote bag and a bouquet of those hideous flowers she liked so much. She was crying softly.

"I can't," she whispered, and you wrapped your arms around her. "I can't stay there alone another night. I hate being away from Bob. You know what he did? He got the guy from the gas station to deliver the flowers to me today, because it's the six month anniversary of the first time he said he loved me."

"Oh, Molly," you whispered, kissing her forehead.

"He set this shit up before he left!" she wailed. "I don't even know what he's doing today, because I haven't talked to him in a week. A week! And now I interrupted you having sex, and I can tell Bradley's mad at me."

You held her close. "He's not mad at you, Molly. He just thought you were a burglar or something."

"I'm sorry," she moaned, holding the flowers out to the side so they didn't get crushed. Her belly felt like it had gotten bigger since the last time you saw her, and you patted her there which made her smile.

"Stop apologizing. You can stay with us until Bob gets back." You really should have run that past Bradley before you made such a bold declaration, but you knew he wouldn't fuss too much. Probably. So you coaxed Molly into letting you put the flowers in a vase in the kitchen, and then you led her upstairs to where Bradley was wearing a full set of pajamas and brushing his teeth in your bathroom.

"Coach?" you called out to him softly, and he made eye contact with you in the mirror. "She's going to stay with us." You weren't really asking, and he didn't look upset. He just nodded and then spit out the toothpaste.

"I figured," he said, rinsing his mouth and drying his hands. He kissed you and pulled you in for a hug before adding, "I'll go sleep in the Phillies room for the night. Just tonight. That way you can talk to her so she can fall asleep. But after tomorrow morning, it's all red and white and the letter P everywhere for your sister. I don't fucking care how much she misses Bob. Got it?"

"Got it," you told him with a smile. "You're the best husband in the world."

"I know," he said with a grumble, but he was smiling too. And when he passed Molly in the hallway, she was still holding one of the flowers. He kissed her on the forehead without saying anything else, and then he walked into the Phillies room as Molly climbed in bed with you.

--------------------------

Everett was up so early on Halloween, Bradley needed to drink two cups of coffee just to keep up with him. "If you're this excited now, I don't know if it's a good idea for you to be collecting copious amounts of candy later." He raised the mug to his lips again as you and Molly walked into the kitchen.

The three of you watched Everett bounce over to the white board on the refrigerator and update it to say that there were just ten days left until his adoption. That meant that Bob would be home in nine days. That also meant that Molly would be out of here in nine days or less, and that did indeed bring a smile to Bradley's face.

It wasn't that he didn't like Molly. He actually loved her. Everett was obsessed with his Aunt Molly, and she loved spending time with him. She was fun and witty, and it brought Bradley joy to pick on her. But she was also messy, and she was eating all of their food, and he couldn't walk around in his underwear as much as he had gotten used to.

But last night, she'd happily taken Everett out for dinner and to the movies for a few hours with Bradley's credit card. And you'd worn your collar and leash for him along with your cat ears and tail, and holy shit, he needed to stop thinking about it right now.

"Morning, Kitten," he grunted as he poured you some coffee.

"Ten more days!" Everett shouted.

"Nine more days!" Molly shouted.

But you bit your lip and pulled a piece of mail out of the tray on the counter. "I thought it would be more fun to open this when we were all together," you said, tearing into the envelope and holding up your new social security card. "But I'm officially a Bradshaw."

"Yes!" Bradley whooped, hoisting you up into his arms as you squealed. Molly and Ev did an obnoxious dance across the kitchen as Bradley kissed your neck and ear while you chanted Bradshaw, Bradshaw.

"Everett will be next! I'm buying us one of those stupid flags people hang from their porch with their last name on it, I don't even care," you said as Bradley set you down, and his lips found yours.

"I love you, Kitten."

That evening, as the four of you got ready to go trick-or-treating, Bradley pulled on his Navy Waves uniform and then buttoned you into one of his Phillies jerseys.

"You'll have to borrow this until we can get you some Phillies gear of your own, Mrs. Bradshaw. Don't spill anything on this one," he muttered. "It's vintage."

You rolled your eyes so hard and then said, "No eating chocolate in it then?"

"No, no, no, absolutely no chocolate. This belonged to my dad."

"Oh," you gasped as he did up the last button. "Then I can't wear it tonight! It's too special."

You reached for the buttons, but Bradley stopped you with his larger hands. "Nah, it's okay, Kitten. Ol' Goose would have wanted you to wear it. I think he'd be happy to see me with you and Ev right now." Actually, Bradley knew both of his parents would have loved you and adored Everett. It was hard for him to think about the way Carole would have doted on her grandson.

The look of awe on your face as you said, "Thank you. No chocolate," made Bradley chuckle.

Then Molly's booming voice in the hallway had you pulling the door open to reveal her standing there dressed as a pregnant umpire. "Are you ready to rumble?!" she shouted into a bullhorn that had you and Bradley covering your ears while Everett chanted and cheered.

"Baseball umpires don't use bullhorns! And they don't say that!" Bradley shouted over the ruckus, but when he reached for it, Molly yanked it away from him.

"This one does," she said into the speaker, and Bradley thought one of them might not make it back tonight.

But it was so hard to be annoyed when the four of you looked like you were ready to play baseball. And then Bradley had you take a photo of him kneeling down on the porch next to Everett dressed as a Phillies player. The photo was so sweet, he immediately set it as his lock screen.

"Are we ready to go?" Molly asked using the bullhorn, and Bradley gritted his teeth. "Ev, that's a foul for looking so cute in your Halloween costume. You owe me a Snickers bar for that."

"That's not what umpires do," Bradley ground out, digging around in the massive bowl of candy that you had set on the porch steps, searching for the only thing that might make Molly stop.

"And my sister gets a red card for leaving the candy on the porch," she added through the speaker. "That'll get stolen by the first kid that comes by. Rookie mistake. I used to do that with my friends."

You just shook your head as Bradley said, "There aren't even red cards-"

But Molly turned the horn toward him. "And Bradley gets a foul for being a turd."

But then his fingers wrapped around the king sized Hershey's bar and he waved it in her face. "I'll trade you this for the bullhorn, Molly. Make good decisions."

She eyed him with trepidation, but he knew that candy was her weakness now more than ever. She'd finished a whole bag of fun sized Kit Kats two nights ago, and Bradley had to go to Target to replenish the Halloween supply. When Molly lunged for the Hershey's bar, Bradley quickly grabbed the bullhorn and shoved it discreetly into the shrubs as she immediately opened the wrapper.

And after that, he had a pretty great night. Everett collected three pillowcases full of candy, and Molly ate it along the way while she repeatedly yelled, "Strike three, you're out!" every time Bradley tried to give you a kiss. But he was happy that Molly was having a night where she wasn't constantly thinking about Bob.

"Can we get a family photo next to that huge inflatable pumpkin?" you asked, pointing at the lawn decoration in front of the last house on the street. Everett went running for the pumpkin, all hopped up on sugar.

"Yep," Bradley said, pulling his phone out of his pocket. Molly held her hand out to take it from him, but he shook his head. "You need to be in the family photo, too." So he flagged down another dad who agreed to take the picture for them, and you slipped your arm around his waist and gave him a kiss just after the photo was taken.

"Thanks, Coach," you whispered, your soft voice right next to his ear.

"Thanks, turd," Molly told him, trying to hide the tears she was swiping at as she turned to chase Everett down the sidewalk yelling about interference and personal fouls.

But it was after everyone got home and Everett and Molly were sound asleep that Bradley's night got even better. He was tired, he really was, but as soon as you very carefully unbuttoned and removed his vintage Phillies jersey, you looked at him and licked your lips.

"Kitten?" he asked softly, his cock already very interested in what might be happening next.

You closed your eyes and said, "I bought something I wanted to try on for you."

Bradley groaned, ready to beg. "Yes," he grunted, and you were pushing him toward the bed as he got undressed down to his underwear.

"Close your eyes. No peeking," you whispered, turning on the soft bedside lamp and turning off the overhead light. So he closed his eyes and listened to you flitting around the room, opening drawers and the closet door. His hand was down the front of his boxer shorts, and he was stroking himself when he felt your warm lips meet his. He moaned softly, "Can I look yet, Kitten?"

Once you were straddling his waist, your ass rubbing his cock through his underwear, you whispered, "My name is Lieutenant Kitten," and his eyes opened immediately. You were wearing his khaki uniform shirt, complete with his Bradshaw name tag. His favorite pair of aviators were perched low on your nose, and his dog tags were tucked between your breasts, hidden by the shirt.

"You're the sexiest naval officer I have ever seen," Bradley promised, skimming his rough fingertips down your soft thigh, bent knee and calf. He smirked as you raised his hand to your lips and kissed his wedding band. "Lieutenant Kitten."

As you leaned forward to kiss his lips, Bradley noticed some dark green lace peeking out from the collar of the khaki shirt, and he started working on the buttons as you licked the seam of his lips.

He felt the fabric before he saw it. You were covered in green lace from your tits down to your pussy, and he was already nudging it to the side, dying to know how wet you were.

"You're in charge, Lieutenant," he whispered, his voice harsh. "What would you like me to do?"

"You better make me cum."

He moaned as you lifted your hips, and he slipped that finger right inside you. So warm and silky. The bodysuit fit you like a dream, and you were leaning back, hands on his thighs, letting him watch your pussy sink down around two of his fingers now. You were rolling your hips slowly, making Bradley throb, but he was determined to give you exactly what you wanted first.

God, had you ever been this wet before? You were practically dripping. "Does that feel good, Lieutenant?" he asked.

"Keep going. Keep going."

With three fingers now inside you and his thumb on your clit, Bradley worked you over at a leisurely pace that had him almost in a trance. The way you were moving looked obscene, like he was viewing something so sexy, so filthy, it was taboo. He was barely moving his hand now, just listening to your little grunts and moans as they got louder while you fucked yourself on his hand.

"God damn," he whispered, tapping your clit softly each time you withdrew to his fingertips, earning him a little gasp.

"Bradley," you whined, getting a little louder now as you tilted your head forward to look him in the eye. Your grip tightened on his thighs, and his cock was demanding a fair share of your body, but he could tell you were close to orgasm.

"Baby," he whined, your slick coating him and glistening as you rocked your body forward one, two, three more times, and then your pussy clenched, grabbing at his fingers. "Fuck."

"Oh my god!" you whined, lips parted, gasping as you jerked yourself along his fingers.

"I need to fuck you," he said, nodding his head. "Please?"

"Yes," you gasped, easing yourself onto your back, legs spread wide. He pushed that little bit of green lace to the side and coated his cock with the wetness on his hand, and then he fucked you. And he fucked you so hard, your back arched. And then he fucked you even harder, your tits bouncing free of the bodysuit while he shoved his still slick fingers into your mouth to keep you quiet.

He didn't last; he knew he wouldn't. Not with you in brand new lingerie and his shirt. Not with the chain of his dog tags tangled up with your paw print necklace. He filled you up with his cum as he leaned down, easing his fingers out of your mouth and replacing them with his tongue. Everything was back to that languid pace you'd set earlier as you dragged your fingers through his hair and tasted his mouth.

Bradley pulled away to look at your pretty face, and you smiled as you ran your fingers along the scars on his cheek. "Did you enjoy your Halloween, Coach?"

With a kiss to the tip of your nose, Bradley pulled himself free from your body and collected you against his chest. He carefully leaned back against his pillow, holding you close with you still in his khaki shirt. "I did," he said thoughtfully, rubbing your arm. "I...well, I know it's kind of silly, but the last time I spent a Halloween with my dad was when I was three, and now I'm a dad."

"That's not silly," you told him. "And you're not just any dad. You're the best."

He held you tight. "You think Ev is going to make us dress as baseball players again next year?"

"Oh, one hundred percent."

---------------------------

Just two more parts left now! Thanks so much for reading! If there's something for Coach, Kitten and Ev that you're hoping to see, hit me up. Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and thank you for the banner @mak-32

PART 32

Don't forget to check out Bob and Molly in The Curveball!

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jelestes · 5 months ago

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My completely sane and hinged rant after rewatching the second season of The Bear 😍

• Carmy/Claire

OMG I want to like Claire so badly but her character is so fucking annoying and that’s putting my whole sydcarmy shipper personality aside, she adds nothing to the plot/show, nothing to Carmy’s growth as a character (not that she should be responsible for that, but as a part of his subplot she doesn’t do much), no new perspectives, nothing. She has nothing you can hold on to she’s just kinda there. Her personality is bland and she’s pushy but at least she’s nice i’ll give her that! All that being said, Molly Gordon (the actress) did a great job!

• Natalie

Natalie isn’t talked about enough and it makes me so angry because she’s such a fascinating character like what was ep6??? that girl needs a fucking hug. As a woman with mommy issues I get Nat on so many levels (like, my mom also has threatened to blown her brains out in front of me so many times lmao) we only got a glimpse to what her life was/is like and I was already bawling my eyes out can’t imagine what they have in store for the next seasons. Also kudos to Abby Elliot (the actress) for the amazing job, we got to see so many sides of Nat it was so refreshing. (Ps: LOVE her relationship with Syd, omg)

• Tina

I remember hating Tina the first two episodes but man how much do I love her now. Her character just warms my heart, love LOVE that they made her a sous.

• Richie

I love cousin so fucking much. That’s pretty much it. As a twenty something struggling to find my passion and my path in general his plot in the second season really hit me, also his growth as a character in general was so nice to see, the way he realized he had to change to love himself not tiff or anyone else, that was really really cool.

• Richie/Natalie

Now call me absolutely insane but why do I feel there’s a tension between them? the whole soda thing when she says she’s pregnant (there’s a parallel to when Tiff was pregnant in 3.06), when he apologizes (it doesn’t feel he’s just apologizing for something in the present), idk there’s been a tension there since season one and I think it might be addressed in season 3? idk I might be delusional but I can’t be the only one seeing it.

• Carmy/Syd

* sighs * BECAUSE IF I SEE SOMEONE CALL THAT SHIT PLATONIC ONE MORE TIME I-

Can someone rationally explain to me why is Sydney the only person who can calm Carmy down during a panic attack? How is this shit platonic be so fr right now!!!! Why was Sydney over explaining herself when she told Carmy she doesn’t feel jealous of Claire? Try to explain this to me. You can’t because saying this is platonic sound fucking stupid SPECIALLY after the table scene.

IMO, they both know it and they both refuse to acknowledge it but specially carmy. I feel like they gonna have a fall out on s3 so they can finally start building this in the right direction.

That’s pretty much it, thank you for coming to my ThebearTalk! I’ll be insufferable for the next few weeks <3

#the bear #the bear fx #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto #sydney adamu #syd the bear #carmy sydney #sydcarmy #rewatch #natalie berzatto #sugar berzatto #natalie x richie #richie jerimovich #tina the bear #the bear season 3 #the bear season two #claire the bear

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mypearlsareclutched · 3 months ago

Text

Look at You, Looking at Me

High By The Beach | Prologue

Modern!Aemond x Original Female Character

Otto Hightower hatches a plan to fix his second grandson's reputation by dating the it-girl of Westeros. Aemond is not up for it, but maybe Otto is on to something.

This is a prologue to the story, giving a bit of context to Aemond and Mila's relationship.

Song inspiration | High By The Beach, Lana Del Rey

CW//TW: Sexual Content (MDNI, 18+), drug use, alcohol consumption, Targaryen daddy issues, smoking, fuckin in a bathroom, brief allusions to grooming, Westeros except it's England, football European style. Referring to a cigarette as a 'fag', because British. Oral sex (m receiving), hair pulling, tit sucking. Writing this from horny jail.

Word count | 4.8k

next chapter

The heavy bass shakes the floor beneath Mila’s feet. Her blocky platforms vibrate, though the movement of her own dancing distracts her hazy mind. Music seeps into her veins, the Molly she had taken earlier making her entire body feel like a gentle tidal wave, her arms light above her as she dances. Her eyes are closed, letting the evening wash over her, oblivious to the world around her-

“Mila! Mila, come on, we gotta go!”

She opens her eyes, blinking in the low, fluorescent lights to see the panicked face of Baela Targaryen.

“Baela! Dance with me, sexy.” Mila giggles rolling her shoulders and hips to her own rhythm.

“No, Mila. Sweetie, come on! Jace texted me, there are press outside, we need to go! Now!” Without another word, Baela grabs Mila’s arm, pulling her gently through the gyrating crowd on the dance floor. The world around her is a blur of colours, the gleaming moonlight shine of Baela's hair brightening when the pair escape out into the night.

Immediately, people yell out, and cameras flash around them. Baela covers her own face, wrapping a protective arm around Mila. Rhaena, Baela's twin, appears on Mila's other side, tugging her towards their parked limo.

Inside is much quieter, and Mila slumps against a chair, smiling at Jacaerys Velaryon, who sits at her side.

"You look rough." Jace chuckles, flicking her nose.

"For fucks sake!" Baela yells as she slams the car door, running a hand over her mussed curls.

Jace hands Mila a blunt, and she takes it eagerly, blinking at the camera flashes outside the car.

“Oh, seven hells, we’re fucked!” Rhaena groans, “Dad’s going to kill us.”

“Forget him, Rhaenys’ is going to kill us twice.” Baela sighs, rubbing her eyes, "I thought this place was supposed to be underground, how did they find us?"

"Must have followed us from Storm's End." Jace shrugs, taking a hit from the joint before passing it to Rhaena, "I think Larys Strong sent out a memo."

"Fucking reptile." Baela spits.

The rest of the conversation goes over Mila's head, as she stares out the window at the stars in the sky.

Aemond taps his fingers on the glass table, staring at his grandfather with a sneer. Otto casts a scrutinizing look over the newspaper in front of him, humming occasionally as he reads the front page. A silence had descended upon the dining room after Otto's opening statement to his grandson, plunging the one-eyed man into a deep and contemplative silence.

“Morning, dear.” Alicent greets her son absentmindedly as she hurries through the kitchen, “Did you sleep well?”

“Fine.” Aemond grumbles, poking his tongue into his cheek. Otto sighs as he finally looks up, rubbing over his forehead as he regards his grandson.

“Well?” Otto sighs.

“Well?” Aemond counters, narrowing his eyes at the older man.

“Well.” With a swift move, the newspaper slides in front of Aemond, who looks down at irt disdainfully.

The front page displays a slightly blurred photo, depicting a group of women being ambushed by paparazzi. Aemond recognises his cousins, Baela and Rhaena. But the girl in between them he does not recognise. The headline reads ‘Dragon Sisters join the She-Wolf in a night of partying and drugs in the Silk Streets!”

“The She-Wolf?” Aemond chuckles mirthlessly, gazing over the rest of the article without any interest.

“Emiliana Stark, known to most simply as Mila. She is Cregan Stark’s younger sister.”

“The footballer?” Aemond had heard of him. He was a pretty big deal, having been scouted for his centre-back skills a few years back, and quickly becoming one of the most high paid footballers in the North, soon to be all of Westeros. Mila, however, had a completely different reputation.

“The party-girl?" Aemond sneers.

"Aemond, be nice." Alicent scolds, barely looking up as she rushes around, grabbing her coffee before walking out.

Aemond rolls his eyes before looking back to his grandfather, "The girl who spends most of her days drunk and high with other famous people, people with real talent?”

“Yes, that one.” Otto says with a roll of his eyes.

“You want me to pursue her? Have you gone mad?”

“Pursue who?” Halaena asks as she enters the kitchen, her hair a wild mess as she has just stumbled out of bed, the faint smell of weed following her.

“Mila Stark.”

“Aemond’s pursuing Mila?” Halaena asks, blinking in confusion.

“You know her?” Otto raises his eyebrows.

“She’s close with Baela and Rhaena, I’ve met her at a couple of their gigs.” Halaena shrugs, “She’s nice. She held my hair back when I had too much to drink, and sat outside with me when I got overwhelmed by the music.”

“Was she high when this was happening?” Aemond grumbles.

“Aemond.” Says Otto warningly.

“She might have been, but she was still lovely.” Halaena smiles, taking an apple and biting into it, “Why should Aemond pursue her?”

“Because he needs someone new on his arm.” Otto says simply. Aemond bristles, and Halaena’s eyes widen slightly.

Aemond’s relationship with Alys Rivers was a difficult one. She was a therapist, a highly paid one. And she was Aemond’s therapist since he was sixteen. A few months back, they were spotted together, and it made headlines. Both their reputations took a hit. She was twenty years his senior, in a position of power over him. The arrangement ended not long after that, under Otto’s instruction. Aemond knew it was not healthy, but he couldn’t help falling in love with her. And it was too fresh to want to start a new relationship.

“Otto-”

“Aemond, I know.” Otto sighs, “It is not ideal. However, your… relations, with that woman, has hurt your reputation, and the reputation of the company.”

“How is me dating a druggie party girl going to help it?”

“It’s not like she’s shooting heroin in the Big Brother confessional booth, Aemond. She goes out, has a good time, and only occasionally is photographed by press looking worse for wear.”

“Like Lindsay Lohan.” Halaena smiles.

“But without the arrests.” Otto says firmly, “Despite what the press tries to paint her as, the public love her. She has made the right connections in the entertainment industry, she has modelled and appeared in music videos with well known artists, she is known as a kind hearted girl who loves her family. Mila Stark is well known, well respected, and simply… needs guidance.”

“Please.” Aemond scoffs.

“You and her could form a powerful couple.” Otto says, sitting down beside Aemond, “Two young individuals with difficult pasts, coming together to form new reputations for both of you.”

"Gods." The young man sighs, rising from his chair.

"If you ever want to inherit your father's company then you will rebuild your reputation, Aemond." Says Otto finally, before he rises as well, and leaves the room in a blur of green and grey.

Halaena looks to her brother, his rigid posture and stormy eye as he glares down at the paper in front of him.

"She's not so bad, Aem." She says softly, "Give her a chance, maybe you'll like her."

"She's a useless party animal who loves booze and getting high, taking no responsibility and refusing to abandon her wild youth. Remind you of anyone?" Aemond snaps.

Halaena presses her lips together, shaking her head before going to leave. With a final look to her brother, she says, "Aegon's trying. I'm sure Mila is too."

Aemond watches her leave, before looking back down at the newspaper.

“Why are we even going to this?” Mila sighs, adjusting her lip-gloss as she glares at her brother. Cregan rolls his eyes, flicking her nose playfully.

“We were invited by the Targaryen’s themselves to attend this gala. What were we going to say, no?” Cregan scoffs, rolling his neck. He himself did not feel comfortable dressing up in a suit and readying to spend the evening with a bunch of rich people, but he knew it was good for making connections.

The pair stand beside Cregan's chevy corvette, staring up at the grand hall which was hosting the Targaryen's gala. It was an illustrious event, the family ran investment bank was booming despite the CEO's declining health.

“It’s so… uppity.” Mila chuckles, looking at the stone building surrounded by classy people milling about.

“That’s Kingslanding for you.”

“Why did they even invite us?”

“We’re going up in the world, Emmie.” Cregan smiles, bumping his sisters shoulder, “We’re influential figures. I’m Christiano Ronaldo and you’re Paris Hilton, without the sex-tape.”

“First of all, don’t call me that, Creggie.” Mila rolls her eyes,. “And second, give it time. I know Larys Strong has been sniffing around Jason Lannister trying to get some nasty stuff on me.”

“Gross. You didn’t shag Jason Lannister did you?”

“No… but his cousin Cerelle has a few stories to tell.”

“Whore.”

The two laugh as they approach the large glass doors, eyes widening as staff open it and immediately swarm them to take their coats and offering them champagne.

“Velaryon is over there.” Cregan states, pointing out Jace in the crowd, standing proud beside his mother Rhaenyra. Jace is one of Cregan's teammates, and also Viserys Targaryen's grandson, “I’m going to go say hi.”

“Give him a big old kiss from me.” Mila winks.

“Freak.” Cregan laughs, ruffling her hair before wandering off to greet Jace.

“On the lips!” Mila calls after him, giggling as he glares at her before he disappears into the crowd. Nerves suddenly hit her, and she looks around for anyone she knows.

Most of the Targaryens were in attendance. Viserys Targaryen stands rigid with his wife, looking sickly. Cancer sucks. Alicent Targaryen looks radiant on his arm, much younger and glowing. While Mila watches her, she notices Alicent's eyes keep flickering to another man nearby. Tall, dressed in a suit, Dornish. He is a member of security, and his eyes are on Alicent as well. Juicy, Mila thinks, smiling to herself.

Viserys is talking to his brother, Daemon, Baela and Rhaena’s father. They’re not close, and the Dragon Sister’s avoided coming here in favour of spending time with their grandparents. Ever since Rhaenys, their grandmother, had taken over management of their band, they had been happier, avoiding the money hungry clutches of their family.

And quite a big fucking family, Mila realises, as she spots more blonde heads dotted around. Another silver-haired man stands with the CEO. Young, mid teens, eager eyes which display none of Alicent's sadness and Daemon's ruthlessness. One of Viserys’ and Alicents many offspring, possibly.

“Hi!” A chipper voice calls. Mila turns, as a smiling blonde woman approaches her.

“Halaena!” Mila greets, eagerly accepting her hug.

“You remembered me!” Halaena beams, the arms of her purple dress smothering the pair as she holds onto her.

“How could I forget?” Mila smiles, holding her at arm's length to inspect her, "You look so beautiful."

Halaena gives her a toothy grin as she spins, her dress floating around her. It is decorated with embroidered dragonflies, and sparkles under the light.

"I'm glad you are here, I don't know anyone." The Targaryen confesses, her face dropping slightly as she looks around the large hall.

"Oh, sweetie, do you want to go outside?" Mila remembers once holding Halaena's hand as they escaped the loud music of a club, the blonde being overwhelmed by the noise and the crowd.

"I'm okay..." Halaena gives her a weak smile, "Why are you here, She-Wolf?"

"Otto Hightower invited Cregan." Mila shrugs, "Apparently the invite said to bring a plus one, with a little note implying he should bring his sister."

The Targaryen looked contemplative, humming slightly as her eyes drift to her family, "Yes. That makes sense."

"Hm?" Mila asks, tapping her crimson-painted nails against her glass of champagne, not paying much mind to the blonde's expression.

The two speak for a while, catching up and sharing stories. Halaena eagerly tells Mila all about her collection of creepy crawlies and various pets, especially her pet snake, Dreamfyre. Apparently she wanted to bring the albino reptile to the gala, but Alicent stopped her. Mila expresses how she would love to meet Dreamfyre, and Halaena's face glows like a star, glee evident in her doe eyes.

"Dreamfyre will love you." Halaena sighs happily, "I'll be so glad when we're family."

"What-?"

"Halaena!" Alicent calls, beckoning her daughter over to speak with Jeyne Arryn. Halaena pouts, before giving Mila a soft smile, poking her cheek and drifting off like a purple and silver cloud. Mila watches her walk away, blinking.

"I see you've met my aunt." Jace says as he sidles up to her, finishing his champagne with a final gulp as he looks around the room.

"She's an enigma." Mila smiles, fondness for Halaena and Jace in her eyes, "Having fun, Velaryon?"

"Bucket loads." He sighs, shaking his head to get a brown curl out of his eyes, "You?"

"I've just been standing here in my corner, talking with the best Targaryen."

"Good game plan."

"Where's Cregan gone?"

"Vanished into thin air." Jace rolls his eyes, "Mum was showing both of us off to everyone, I turned around for two seconds and, poof, gone."

"I'll come and catch up with her soon." Rhaenyra had been something of a surrogate mother to the two Stark children. Ever since their parents had passed away in a car collision eight years ago, Rhaenyra and her husband Laenor had opened their arms to them. But it was not easy for Cregan and Mila, having lost their parents at seventeen and fifteen, both had ways of coping. Mila's had not been so healthy... Guilt lingered in her mind for the things she had done in her late teens, causing everyone around her grief. But alas, the Velaryons never held it against her.

"Why's Otto Hightower looking at you?" Jace asks, furrowing his brow. Mila follows his line of sight, raising an eyebrow when she makes eye contact with the man himself. Steely eyes hold hers, and he says something to the man standing next to him. Whoever it is, is Targaryen blonde, but the rest of him is hidden by the crowd.

"I don't know." Mila shrugs, "Perhaps he's going to ask me to do a line in the bathroom."

"How dare he steal my idea." The brown haired man wiggles his eyebrows, and Mina tuts.

"I thought the Direwolves have a big game this week?" Mina tilts her head, feigning disappointment, "If I get the star midfielder high, everyone will think I'm some kind of delinquent."

"Pretty please." Jace pouts, "How about we just smoke a spliff?"

"Tempting, but I'm not getting high with you again when your mother is around. Remember when you fell from the window last Summer?"

"I was fine!" He defends.

"No way in the seven hells am I facing the wrath of the dragon again, Velaryon."

"Goody two-shoes." Jace rolls his eyes, elbowing her. They remain silent for a second, the chatter and gentle violin music sounding like white noise, "Gods, this is so boring, I would rather be watching paint dry."

"Go and mingle, you child."

"Is that what you're doing?" Jace raises an eyebrow, "Mingling?"

"I'm mingling with the voices in my head."

"Okay, Professor X, why don't you try mingling with Otto Hightower." Jace nods to where Otto begins walking towards them, storming in long confident strides, "That is a man on a mission."

"Maybe he's trying to hit?" Mila chuckles, though she starts to feel nervous, "Or call me a slur?"

"Want me to distract him?" He says with a cheeky grin, a plan forming in his eyes. Any excuse to liven this party up.

"Please. As distracting as possible."

"You owe me a spliff and a blow job." The Velaryon goads with a wink as he runs his hands through his hair and puts his champagne flute down.

"You're fucking gross." Mila laughs, readying to run away from Otto Hightower and Jace's distraction skills.

"Love you too." Jace smirks.

As stoically as possible, Jace walks over to a clearing in the room, before gasping dramatically and falling down, clutching his calf like he was shot by a sniper.

"Gods! I'm down, I'm down! Oh, the horror! A young, devilishly handsome man struck down in his prime!" He bellows.

The dramatic howling catches the attention of many, the crowd moving like a tidal wave over to aid the fallen man. Otto gets entangled in the mess, and Mila slips away with a badly hidden smile.

Gods, which one of the hells am I in? Mila sighs, stepping out into the cool night air.

The gardens are huge, but the patio is filled with well-dressed individuals. Walking away from them, Mila wanders further into the dark, entering a darkened hedge maze.

Surrounded by shadows and leaves, she can finally release a breath as the sound grows further and further away. Pulling out her pack of cigarettes, she picks one out and puts it between her lips, searching in her purse for her lighter.

"Bollocks." Mila sighs, throwing her head back in frustration, "Why, gods, why?"

"Need a light?" A voice asks, and Mila turns her head.

He stands across from her in the maze, shadowed in darkness. The cherry of a cigarette shines like a tiny sun pinched between his fingers, and when he brings it up to take a drag, his face is illuminated.

He’s beautiful. Sharp, angular features. Full lips, a jaw that could cut glass. His eyes is covered in a leather patch. Aemond Targaryen. Second son of Viserys. Private, intelligent, infamously handsome but wildly unapproachable.

"If you wouldn't mind." Mila smiles.

With a flick of his wrist, a metal lighter flies through the air. Mila catches it with both of hers, flicking it open and lighting her cigarette.

"Appreciated." She thanks, sighing out smoke as the nicotine floods her mind.

They remain in silence for a moment, the wind whistling around them. Mila looks up at the sky, feeling her skin tingle as the strange Targaryen watches her.

“And who are you?” Mila asks, though she knows who he is.

“Aemond.” He answers, “Targaryen.”

“I guessed that.” She smirks, holding up the lighter. She tosses it back, and he catches it. With a step, he comes out of the shadows.

There's something intense about him, his face statuesque in both beauty and stillness. His one eye looks her up and down, his hand twitching at his side before he lifts it to take another drag. He seems almost nervous, but keeping his thoughts to himself as he regards her.

"Like what you see?" Mila asks, raising an eyebrow as she puts out her fag. Aemond blinks at her, remaining silent as he flicks ash off his own cigarette. But his body language is taunt, his jaw flexing as he looks over her figure hugging dress.

She saunters over to him, pinching the cigarette and bringing it to her own lips, maintaining eye contact the entire time. He watches her, his one eyes flitting between her lips and her eyes, his adam's apple bobbing.

"You're dangerous." Aemond murmurs, the words escaping before he can stop them.

"Oh, you have no idea." Mila says, licking her lower lip as she offers the cigarette back. “Sorry, got lipgloss on your fag. It’s strawberry flavoured.”

Aemond looks down at her hand, before leaning down and taking the cigarette between his lips, smoking it from her hand. Mila's heart races as he remains staring at her, his larger hand coming up to ghost over hers.

The air is alight with tension, sharing each other's space as they smoke from the same cigarette, Aemond allowing Mila to hold it as she presses it to his mouth, the act sensual and sending sparks through them. Before the cigarette ends, Aemond brushes his lips over her fingers, and she shudders.

With the cigarette crushed beneath her heels, Mila looks up at Aemond, holding his intense eye contact.

"Thanks for the light, handsome."

With that, she walks away, hips swaying. She knows he’s watching. And it feels exhilarating. Aemond stares at her, his blood pumping as he takes a shuddering breath.

Returning Mila returns to the gala, all excitement leaves her body when she looks around at the bland and pompous party.

Jace has risen from his injured stance, listening abtly as an attratcive woman talks to him, brushing his curls from his face as she looks up at him worredly. As Mila walks by, he throws her a wink, and she pokes her tongue out.

"There she is!" Rhaenyra calls out, opening her arms to pull Mila into a firm hug. Mila holds her close, her body releasing all tension at the familiar feeling. Rhaenyra's expensive perfume fills her senses, the soft fabric of her dress brushing against her bare arms.

"You look lovely, Nyra." Mila smiles, and Rhaenyra takes her hands, beaming.

"What about you?" Rhaenyra squeezes her hands, "What a beautiful woman you've grown into, sweet girl."

"Don't say that, her ego will get even bigger!" Jace's younger brother, Luke, says. Mila ruffles his curls, hugging him too.

"Saw you in the news." Rhaenyra says, raising an eyebrow, "Been having fun, dearest?"

"Taking a page out of your back, Realm's Delight." Mila teases, earning a playful swat.

"Watch your tongue, missy." The three laugh.

"Laenor not here?" Mila asks, looking around for the man.

"Joffrey is having a sleepover at his friends, Laenor decided to stay back and be on call if something goes wrong." Rhaenyra eyes her younger son, who is distracted by a platter of food, "He and Qarl are having a guys night."

"Ah." Mila smiles. She was well aware of Laenor and Qarl's relationship. Rhaenyra and Laenor got married when Rhaenyra got pregnant at seventeen. The two were best friends, and only did it to make sure there was no backlash on the Targaryen heir. Laenor and Qarl had been together for years, and Rhaenyra had her fair share of partners through the year. Currently she was seeing her yoga instructor, Mysaria. Mila didn't care, all of them were happy, or unaware.

"How are you, darling?" Rhaenyra asks, taking Mila's hand, "Really?"

"I'm fine." Mila smiles, "Nothing... bad, has happened."

"Good." Rhaenyra smiles, relief on her face, "Remember you can talk to me if anything happens."

"I will. I promise." It's been three years since Mila had touched a needle. It had almost ruined her life. She was alright, at the moment, and had no need for that escape.

Leaving Rhaenyra and Luke to go and search for Cregan, Mina walked out into an adjacent hallway, her heels clicking against the marble flooring. Hushed, angry voices echoed from down the corridor, and Mina followed them cautiously, curiosity getting the best of her.

Around a corner, she watches as Otto Hightower and Aemond Targaryen heatedly talk, vicious words slicing through the air. Otto says something firmly and finally, turning on his heel and storming away. Aemond watches him leave, his face tight in a scowl and his eyes conflicted.

An idea strikes the Stark, biting her lip as she runs a hand through her hair.

Making her way over to Aemond, he gives her a questioning look as she approaches, clearly not expecting her. When she comes to stand in front of him, she offers her hand with a raised eyebrow.

"Come with me." She whispers.

After a moment's hesitation, he takes it. She leads him away, pushing into the bathroom adjacent to the hallway. Closing the door behind them and locking it, she presses her lips to his.

Aemond freezes in confusion, before kissing her back. It's fast, rough. Teeth scraping and tongues meeting, Mila twists her hands into Aemond's hair, tugging it slightly at the root. The Targaryen groans low in his throat, pushing her backwards to press her against the sink.

Mila pulls back, and Aemond's lips chase hers. She laughs breathlessly, as he stares down at her with a lust filled eye. Leaning forwards to nip his lower lip, she descends down him, hands swiftly undoing his belt and pulling out his half-hard cock.

She takes him in her mouth, wrapping her lips around him before pushing her head down, taking him as far as he will go. Aemond gasps from above her, his large hand wrapping itself around her hair to ground himself. Mila bobs her head, her tongue flicking over his sensitive tip, causing Aemond to groan, throwing his head back.

"Fuck..." He breathes, closing his one eye as his body thrums.

Mila moans around him, sucking him hard as he throbs inside her, his precum leaving a salty taste in her mouth. He tugs on her hair, pulling her off of him and upwards, kissing her harshly.

Pushing her back against the sink, Aemond's fingers lift up her skirt, thin digits pulling Mila's panties to the side. He plunges two fingers into her, scissoring her wet cunt open. She rewards him with a choked mewl, spreading her legs for him.

Worked up and throbbing, the Targaryen wastes no time in shucking her skirt up around her waist, stepping in between her legs and hooking her knees around his hips.

"Condom?" Aemond asks, the thought suddenly hitting him.

"I've got an IUD." Mila says breathlessly, "And I'm clean. You?"

"Spotless." Aemond growls, before pushing her backwards against the sink and slamming inside of her.

Mila gasps, eyes rolling back as Aemond bottoms out, his svelte hips pressing against her thighs. He's huge and thick, splitting her open on his cock. Aemond groans, head hanging as his eyes clenches shut, body shuddering at the euphoric feeling of her surrounding him so tight.

"Move, please..." Mila pleads, and Aemond immediately retreats, leaving the tip in before thrusting back into her harshly, repeating the action in hurried movements. The pace is breakneck, Mila has to grip onto the edges of the sink as she is thoroughly fucked by the Targaryen man in front of her.

Aemond is a mess of groans and gasps, sweat shining on his forehead as he pummels into the She-Wolf. The breathless moans she releases motivates him further, his mouth hanging open and his eye rolling back as she clenches on him. It's never felt like this before...

Gripping onto the front of her dress, Aemond pushes it down, revealing her lace bra. Mila unclips it from the front, giving Aemond the access he badly needs. Leaning over her, he captures her nipple in his mouth, sucking and biting it as he fucks her with abandon. Releasing incoherent babbles, she grips onto his hair, holding him in place as she moves her hips to his rhythm.

Neither of them last long, the pleasure of their brutal coupling and the thrill of fucking a stranger in the bathroom sending them both careening towards the egde.

"I'm so... c-close." Aemond grits out, his nails digging into Mila's soft thighs as his balls tighten.

"Fuck, I'm right there with you baby." Mila moans, pulling his hair tighter as her peak creeps up her.

Releasing a long breathless curse, her orgasm crashes over her, her body seizing and her cunt gripping on Aemond harshly. Aemond splutters, thrusting harshly thrice before he releases, his hips flexing and his one eye screwing shut. Devoid of strength, he slumps against her, his sweaty forehead pressed against her bare chest.

The bathroom is filled with pants as the two regain their breath, Mila wordlessly carding her hands through the moonlight coloured tresses of Aemond Targaryen, and he sighed against her, content.

Blinking around the room, she catches sight of her fucked out face in the mirror, her makeup streaming down her face.

"Fuck. I gotta fix my eyeliner." Mila laughs, and she was sure she could hear Aemond breathlessly chuckle against her.

Mila left the bathroom first, fixing her hair subtly as she looked around. The corridor was empty, the sounds of the gala were muffled against the thick walls. Checking her phone, the time was eleven. Cregan was probably looking for her to make some excuse for them to leave.

The bathroom door opens, and Aemond pokes his head out, looking around with a wide, singular eye.

"The coast is clear, casanova." Mila whispers, laughing as Aemond flushes slightly. He steps out, straightening his tie and avoiding her eyes, appearing almost sheepish. Like he didn't just fuck the shit out of her.

Mila tries to bite back a smile, looking away from him to take a breath. Her hand is still wrapped around her liquid liner, flicking it around her fingers. Making up her mind, she turns to him, taking his wrist in her hand. He gives her a questioning look, but allows it. Using her eyeliner, she writes her phone number.

"Call me." She smirks, "If you find yourself bored and freshly scolded, I'll come fuck you in the closest bathroom."

With that, she turns on her heel and walks back down the hallway. Aemond watches her go, his heart thudding in his chest.

Maybe she’s not so bad after all.

AN// Maybe she's not, Aemond. Maybe she's not. Tune in for chapter two when both Aemond and Mina get some post-nut clarity and the angst begins. Sending love.

Lula x

#fanfic #hotd #aemond x oc #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen #smut #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen x oc #hotd aemond #hotd fanfic #mdni #modern au #aemond one eye #original character #asoiaf

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hollowed-theory-hall · 7 months ago

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Magic and Genetics

So, this is not like 100% finished and will be more musings than a full theory. The main reason is that we, as humanity, just don't really know that much about genetics. Like, we get the gist of it, but we can mostly only say: "it's complicated" about it.

Which is true. Like, the idea of dominant and recessive traits the way most people are familiar with (like the eye color chart for blue eyes and brown eyes) is super oversimplified and inaccurate. Like, there are 2 major genes that affect eye color and then there are 8 more genes that affect eye color, hair color, and skin color, but we aren't really sure in what way. We just think they do from observation. Usually, genes behave in a way that is in line with the dominant and recessive traits charts, but there are exceptions to it. Again, we just don't know much about this field.

Because of this, I can't really come to conclusive conclusions regarding exactly how many and which genes affect a person's magic in the world of Harry Potter. What I can do is use the book evidence to try and create a pattern of how magic behaves genetically.

Disclaimer: I'm not a doctor, nor did I study genetics in any professional capacity, this is from online reading and self-study. And most importantly for fun 😊

Why do I think magic is influenced by multiple genes?

So, JKR stated in an interview she thinks of magic as a single dominant gene. This is impossible, since if that were true squibs and muggleborns wouldn't exist and the chart for the likelihood of a child being born with magic would look like this:

And that's just not what we see in the books...

This is all without mentioning how squibs like Arabella Figg can see dementors while muggles can't:

“A Squib, eh?” said Fudge, eyeing her suspiciously. “We’ll be checking that. You’ll leave details of your parentage with my assistant, Weasley. Incidentally, can Squibs see dementors?” he added, looking left and right along the bench where he sat. “Yes, we can!” said Mrs. Figg indignantly.

(OotP, page 143)

This means that squids do have some magical genes that muggles don't.

Additionally, from what we know about wizards as a species they have other differences from muggles that would effect their genetics in less obvious ways, for example:

Wizards heal faster, so cell regeneration is different than muggles.

Wizards have a completely different set of illnesses than muggles, so their white blood cells are also different.

Their brain cells likely live longer since they have an overall longer life expectancy.

Since they can see magic, like dementors and the Leakey Cauldron, we know the sight receptors are different.

Their nerves likely also function differently since they can sense magic in a way muggles can't.

To name a few.

And this is all without going into the fact wizards can reproduce with other species (goblins, veela, and giants to name a few) which actually implies a common ancestor to all of these races, but I'm not going into that can of worms.

What I am going into is how magic works genetically and how predictable it is. As in, if I know the magical status (pure-blood wizard, half-blood wizard, muggleborn wizard, squib, or muggle) of two human parents, can I tell how likely their child is to be a wizard, a squib, or a muggle?

What are squibs?

We don't know of many squibs in the books, these are the list of the known squibs:

Argus Filch

Arabella Figg

Marius Black

Dolores Umbridge's brother

Molly Weasley's second cousin

Squibs aren't a subject wizards like talking about, even not wizards who don't mind muggles like the Weasleys:

"Er — yes, I think so. I think Mum's got a second cousin who's an accountant, but we never talk about him."

(PS, page 73)

The definition of a squib is a child without magic born of a magical parent. If we look at the list of squibs above, all of them except Umbridge's brother are pure-bloods. This is kind of important because of the limited genetic pool of pure-bloods.

I tried calculating the inbreeding coefficient (basically how likely it is that a specific genetic trait is identical in both parents. The number ranges between 0 and 1) of the pure-bloods in the Wizarding World. We don't have much information on most families, but even looking at the Black family tree, they aren't really inbred (except the Gaunts). The closest relation there is the marriage between second cousins Walburga and Orion. So the inbreeding coefficient of pure-bloods would be above zero, but not high enough to cause serious health detriments for the most part. But, this doesn't mean wizards don't have a problem with a limited genetic pool even without close inbreeding.

Looking at that same Black family tree, we see a lot of familiar names: Flint, Crabbe, Burke, Potter, Crouch, Longbottom, Weasley, Prewett, Malfoy, McMillian... Basically, all pure-blood wizards are related. Some more closely than others, but they are all related. It means that among pure-bloods there is less genetic diversity which tends to cause illnesses and weakness in children over the course of multiple generations.

Such illness can, for example, come in the form of a squib. If the child just isn't capable of having full access to magic, due to their limited genetic pool, they will be born a squib.

But what about Umbridge's brother?

Well, here's the interesting thing. When looking at accounts of children of a pure-blood and a muggleborn, they are all always magical (and usually quite powerful, but more on that later). Umbridge's mother though is muggle. I believe a muggle parent would also have a higher chance of a squib offspring since they don't have magic. Essentially, Umbride's brother received some of the magical genes from their father, and some muggle genes from their mother, leaving him somewhat capable of interacting with magic, but not casting it — a squib.

Essentially squibs have a higher chance to be born from two pure-bloods (due to lack of genetic diversity) or from a wizard and a muggle. If we look at the books, we actually never see a squib being born from a pair of two wizards where one of the parents is half-blood or muggleborn (since they bring new genetic diversity and make the offsprings much likelier to be magical).

What are muggleborns?

So, we covered that squibs are rare and are caused by the lack of genetic diversity in the pure-blood families or by receiving non-magical genes from a muggle parent. But what about muggleborns? How could they genetically exist?

Well, I discussed here the actual percentages of different blood statuses across the Wizarding World. And the percentages looked like this:

57.5% Pure-Blood and Most Likely Pure Blood

22.5% Half-Blood

15% At Least One Magical Parent

5% Muggleborn

And as I covered here and here, I believe magical Britain is approximately 0.01% of the muggle population. This means that muggleborns are incredibly rare in the muggle population and have an overall very low chance of being born. But under what circumstances would muggleborns be more likely?

We know, for example, that the brothers Colin and Dennis Creevey were both born magical. It means, that their parents had genes that make them more likely to have magical children. This means Petunia had a higher chance of being born magical than, say, Vernon, it was still a low chance, but it was more likely.

Now, I'm not the first to raise this theory, but I believe these muggles that have a slightly higher chance for magical children like Mr. and Mrs. Creevey are descendants of squibs. We know that:

"Squibs were usually shipped off to Muggle schools and encouraged to integrate into the Muggle community. . . much kinder than trying to find them a place in the Wizarding world, where they must always be second class..."

(DH, page 136)

So, squibs have been sent for generations to live among muggles. It means that there are multiple "muggles" running around that are actually squibs. They might be able to see dementors or notice something odd around the Leakey Cauldron, but not enough to produce magic. But they still have magic in their genes. And when they have kids, sometimes, through a fluke of luck and genetics a muggleborn can be born.

This means all muggleborns are distantly related to wizards in some way, but still the muggle blood adds some much-needed genetic diversity that makes them less likely to have squib children.

What would magical genes look like?

So, we talked so far about how to predict the likelihood of a child having magic or not. But we also know not all wizards and witches are magically equal. You have crazy powerful individuals like Voldemort, Harry, and Dumbledore. Hermione is an incredibly skilled and talented witch, often the first in class to get spells right. And then you have wizards like Crabbe, Goyle, or Merope who are barely more magical than squibs. Then you have unique magical gifts like being a parselmouth, metamorphmagus, or seer are all inherited, and therefore genetic.

So, let's start with the power/talent difference between wizards that we see. I think this, like squibs, is correlating to the lack of genetic diversity. Sure, you have pure-bloods that are magically powerful or average, but if we look at the most magically powerful wizards in the books — Harry, Voldemort, and Dumbledore — they are all half-bloods. They all have a higher genetic diversity.

Hermione and Lily, are also examples of this added genetic diversity raising the likelihood of magical talent. Both muggleborns, both referenced as talented and bright multiple times. Snape, another half-blood is also referenced often as an incredibly talented wizard.

Actually, Nymphadora Tonks is one of the best pieces of evidence for magic weakening over pure-blood generations and becoming stronger with the new blood from muggles or muggleborns.

The Black family had the hereditary magical gift of being metamorphmagi. This gift has been lost for multiple generations, the first Black to be born with this gift in recent history is Tonks. And it makes perfect sense, Andromeda, a pure-blood with the genes for being a metamorphmagus, marries a muggleborn, Ted, who has the much-needed genetic diversity, so their daughter is finally durable enough for the metamorphmagi magic to kick in.

The Gaunts are another example of just how much the lack of genetic diversity affects a wizard's magic. All three, but especially Mereope, are portrayed as barely skilled with magic, almost squibs. But then we have Tom Marvolo Riddle, magically gifted so much beyond most wizards because he had the added genetic diversity from his muggle father.

Parseltongue seems to be a more dominant trait than the metamorphmagus ability. As even an almost squib in the Gaunt family can speak it. That being said, the Gaunts are implied to be incredibly incestuous, so perhaps it's just a matter of both parents speaking Parseltongue that causes this gene's apparent dominance.

We also know these genetic traits are only passed to wizards. So a squib from the Gaunt family, would not be able to speak Parseltongue. So, while it is a separate gene, it is connected to the other genes that affect magic. That's why a muggleborn born from a Gaunt family squib line, could potentially be a Parselmouth. They won't necessarily be a Parselmouth, but they have a chance to get the gene.

Conclusions

So, let's put all of it together into a series of rules* to how magic seems to work genetically.

*Rules is not exactly the correct word. It's more like, how it would usually behave, but there are flukes to genetics and everything is possible.

Two magical parents would almost always have a magical child. Pure-bloods are more likely to have squib children than half-bloods or muggleborns due to lack of genetic diversity.

A child of a muggle and a wizard has a higher chance of being born a squib than two magical parents. (The chance is still pretty low though and the child is more likely to be magical)

Muggleborns are the result of at least one parent who is a muggle that descended from squibs and has magical genes.

If both parents are squib-descendant muggles, all their kids might even end up magical. (Like the Creevey brothers)

Being a parselmouth, metamorphmagus, or seer are all unique genetic traits that are passed in a separate gene but dependent on other magical genes. Each one of them behaves differently as a gene.

Genetic diversity promises a higher chance of naturally magically gifted children. (It doesn't promise they will be more gifted, just makes their chances better)

Blood purity and a limited genetic pool cause magical children born to these lines to be overall weaker. (Again, there are exceptions, this is just about chances)

#harry potter #harry potter thoughts #harry potter theory #hp theory #hp #wizarding world #hp thoughts #hollowedtheory #wizarding world of harry potter #wizarding population #wizarding society

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keirawantstocry · 8 months ago

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that one time tubbo called pac a dilf 😵‍💫

okay wait…

young teacher tubbo and dilf pac comes to collect his son from class…..tubbos got such a crush on him and maybe he asks pac to stay back to talk about richas’s behaviour but it turns into something else….

you've come to the right person (guy who is obsessed with pacbo)

Tubbo wasn't quite sure how he ended up with this job. He had never in any of his years considered being a teacher of any sort. But after he adopted his daughter, he needed a second job. Mechanics weren't paying him enough. Luckily there was a daycare nearby that was hiring. It was a more difficult process than he had expected, much like the adoption. But he got it.

His daughter stayed with her “other father”. Tom's name was always said in a sigh like that. They were young and stupid and drunk and Tubbo didn't know what he was doing when he signed the stupid paper that Tommy had slid him across the dirty bar table.

Tommy, and unfortunately Molly, found it hilarious. They both insisted on watching Sunny while he was at work. Thankfully Sunny loved them. Tommy would do her hair in braids. It was something they did when they were younger. Tubbo remembered sitting in fields with Tommy's older cousin braiding his long hair.

As soon as Tommy saw Sunny's thick 3C curls, he stayed up two nights in a row researching and watching video after video of how to do cornrows and other braids in her hair.

Molly often sent him videos while he was at work on Sunny prattling on while Tommy listened intently, braiding her hair as best he could. As much as Tubbo joked about divorce and threatened, he was glad to have two people he loved watching his child and caring for them so well.

He closed his laptop with a sigh, rubbing his eyes. He was the last one there, his co worker had to leave because she had to pick up her own child but they needed someone to watch the singular child whose parents were incredibly late.

Opening his eyes, Tubbo stared down the young boy in front of him.

He was a Latino boy, probably around 7 or 8 with an oversized yellow jersey that he wore every single day. He was staring at Tubbo with large brown eyes. It was almost unnerving but he was a cute, decently well mannered child.

Tubbo remembered the day he joined the daycare. A man with shoulder length brown hair and a singular white streak through it brought him in and explained how the boy had been born without part of his leg but was still very capable of movement with the prosthetic his Pai had made him.

The owner of the daycare had nodded, assuring the man over and over that his child would be well cared for and that they would make sure the other children didn't say anything nasty as children tended to do.

Richas, Tubbo remembered, as he continued to stare down the boy. His name was Richas.

“Hello,” he said.

The boy grinned. “Ola!”

Tubbo laughed at his enthusiasm before picking up his phone to attempt to call the boy's parents once again. It rang and rang, like it had three times before click.

“Holy shit, we are so sorry. Our schedule got all mixed up and we didn't know who was supposed to pick him up today. Fuck!”

“Hey, hey,” Tubbo said calmly. “It's okay. I'm here with him. Get here whenever you can.”

The voice on the phone that Tubbo didn't recognize took a few deep breaths. “Sim, sim, of course. Peqi is on his way already. He should be there any minute.”

Tubbo smiled at Richas who bounced up and down excitedly, trying to climb up the front of the desk to reach the phone. “Sounds good, Mr…?”

The voice laughed. “Just call me Mike yeah?”

Richas made the saddest noise possible and Tubbo's heart melted. “Wait, before you go, I think he wants to talk to you.”

He removed the phone from the side of his ear and carefully handed it to the boy who cradled it with both hands and held it up to his mouth. “OI, PAI.”

Mike's voice came through quietly. “Oi, Richas. Você está sendo bom?”

“Sim, sim,” the boy sang happily. “Eu sou bom.”

“Bom menino. Pai Pac will be there soon okay?”

“Okay, okay.”

“Eu te amo.”

“Eu também te amo.”

The phone clicked, ending the call and Richas handed it back to Tubbo with a smile. Not even five seconds after the phone was back in his hand, the door slammed open. Standing in the now open doorway was a frazzled and incredibly attractive man.

Richas ran over, bounding easily into his arms.

“Richarlyson!” the man cooed, swinging him back and forth in his arms. He met Tubbo's eyes over his son's head. ‘Thank you’ he mouthed.

Tubbo was almost too stunned to nod but he managed to as Richas's father slowly lowered him to the ground to step over to Tubbo.

“I have to sign him out, yes?”

Tubbo nodded, still speechless. He cleared his throat and slid the sign-out sheet across the desk. “Yeah, uh, yeah.”

The man, Pac, from the signs of his scribbled signature, smiled blindingly at him, his son clinging to his leg.

Tubbo noticed at that moment that Pac had a near identical prosthetic to his son. “You match,” he said before mentally slapping himself. You don't just fucking point out a man's prosthetic, no fucking wonder you're still married to Tommy.

But Pac just laughed softly. “We do,” he said softly, rubbing the top of Richas's head. “He is very clearly my son.”

“Are you his biological father?” Tubbo asked. Holy fucking shit, shut up you fucking idiot. He is so tired of you already, why are you asking so many questions?

Pac just laughed softly again and the twist in Tubbo's chest felt like falling off a cliff. “Sim, yes, I am. I was the one who gave birth to him.”

Tubbo stopped himself from asking any questions about that. He knew better than that at least. “That's really cool.” He tried a smile and felt so awkward.

“Thank you,” Pac said. “And thank you for watching him past time. I know you probably have places to be.”

Tubbo brushed him off with a wave of his hand. “Oh don't worry about it. My daughter is more than happy to spend more of their time with her ‘other father’.” Out of instinct, he raised his hands and made quotation marks with his hands.

Pac raised an eyebrow curiously.

Tubbo flushed. “A, uh, friend of mine. We got drunk married and now my daughter considers him her other father.”

Pac laughed. “No spouse of your own then? One that you're in love with anyway?”

Tubbo flushed darker. “Ah, no. Just my husband and his girlfriend.”

“Mmm,” Pac said, leaning over on the desk. “Good to know.”

Tubbo froze in his spot as Pac's eyes, big and brown just like his son's, stared into his soul. He gulped before clearing his throat. “Yeah, uhmm, yeah.” The heat of his face was nearly unbearable.

Richas gently smacked his dad on the leg. “Oi, stop that.”

Pac leaned back, holding his hands up with an innocent expression. “What?? What?”

The little boy glared at him with no heat. “Pai Mike told you to stop that.”

“Well, Mikey isn't here right now is he? And he also has no control over my life.” Pac turned back to Tubbo and grabbed the pen again. He motioned towards Tubbo's arm which he held out willingly.

Quickly the man scribbled a number onto his arm, his grip strong and warm. Tubbo felt dizzy.

Pac dropped the pen with a smile and a wink before grabbing his son's hand. “Call me yeah?”

Tubbo stared in disbelief, red as a beet. “...yeah,” he said softly as Pav happily bounded out the door, his son berating him in Portuguese.

“Tommy,” he said softly when he got home, holding up his arm. “I think I got hit on.”

#pacbo #qsmp shipping #my writing #fanfiction #q!tubbo #q!pac #q!sunnysideup #q!tommy #molly is also there #q!mike #and also cellbit is mentioned but not by name #i started writing and then i couldn't stop so here's this LMAO #dilf!pac au

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thegoldfishkid13 · 10 months ago

Text

Reunited Regulus Black x reader

A/N: I am still taking request for any character seen on my masterlist. or most harry potter characters

Warning: Swearing, mentions of death, pregancy, fighting, mentions of suicide. It’s also not cannon,

Word count:2091

Standing in the kitchen you and Regulus are making dinner for yourselves and your daughter. She had some of her friends from Hogwarts over. Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini, Enzo Berkshire, Theodore Nott and Mattheo Riddle. They all were slytherin, you went to school with most of their parents.

“Harper! Come here!” Regulus yelled, his voice echoed through the house. You heard her door open and her stomp down the stairs. Attitude was coming and you knew it.

“What?” Attitude dripped from her voice, nothing else.

“Will you run and get a carton of milk? We are almost out.” Regulus asked. Her friends walked down the stairs and thanked you for hosting their get together, but they had to leave. Harper rolled her house at Regulus. But nonetheless she agreed. Her attitude was causing a real problem.

“Thank you.” He handed her money and went back to cutting vegetables. She left and you continue to work on the chicken.

“Her attitude is a problem, you know.” You spoke, it’s something that you had been wanting to talk about but never had the chance.

“I have noticed, and it seems to be more to you than me. I’m not sure what started it but we should probably have a conversation with her to try and figure it out.” He agreed with your point. You sliced into a piece of chicken, almost cutting the corner of your hand. “It started when the slytherin group started coming ‘round.” He hummed in agreement. You threw the chicken in a pan and began to season it.

“I'm surprised her and Harry aren't friends. Honestly besides the fact that their cousins they seem to be the same person. Just different houses.” Regulus chuckled at your statement. Knowing what it was probably true. “I’m not even sure that they release that they're related.

“Yeah, it seems to be that way.” Before you could continue there was a knock on the front door of your house. You put the knife down and opened the door. You're feeling a little annoyed because it's later in the evening and dinner time.

“Can I help you-” The words didn’t even finish leaving your mouth. I stare at the group of strangers in front of me. Sirius Black, Molly Wesley, four of the Wesley children. Remus stands in front of me, Harry parked at his side. A few more people that you don’t know the names of are right here with them. You stand there in shock for a couple seconds before Regulus walks up and asks who's there. Nobody in this group knows he is alive, since you faked his death. He was a traitor to Voldemort and so he didn’t get killed. You planned an elaborate plan to fake his death. You watched how Remus and Sirius’s eyes widened in shock. Rain starts to pour down steadily.

“Come in before the wind picks up.” You usher the hoard of people into your large living room.They spread out amongst the room. Some murmuring, others staring. You locked the front door and walked into the living room.

“Okay first things first, what's going on?” You ask slightly annoyed so many people showed up unannounced and you didn’t even know all of them.

“That's what I want to know.” Sirius said, his tone seemed hurt and angry. He pointed at Regulus. “You’re supposed to be dead. Didn’t he who is not named kill you?” Remus nodded in agreement. The students that were in the room's eyes widened slightly. They must not have heard the story.

“No, we faked my death after I switched from the dark side.” Regulus sighed. You nodded in agreement. Remus’s face seemed skeptical but he went with it.

“Now for my question, what's going on and why are you here?” You repeated again. Sirius sighed and Molly spoke up.

“I remember hearing about how you worked on the dark side for a while. Well for your brother. Did you happen to keep journals or anything?” You nodded and walked over to a bookshelf in the corner of the room. You grabbed about three books and set them on the table in front of everyone.

“James was the only one who read them.” You spoke and pulled a piece of paper out of the dust cover of one of the journals. You handed it to Harry.

“Your father wrote this to me before he and Lily died. I thought that if I ever got to see you again you would want it.” He nodded before speaking. “You knew my father?” You nodded.” More than anyone in this room.” Sirius looked like he was about to protest but Remus shot him a look.

“Your father was my older brother. I actually helped choose your name.” I smiled and the boy looked pleased. People began to talk amongst themselves since this was a semi private conversation. You were pleased to see Sirius and Regulus talking to each other.

“ If you were related to him, then why did they send him to go live with his muggle family?” A girl with sandy brown hair asked.

“Me and Regulus were being hunted by the dark lord. Since we betrayed him, I had killed him once but he was regenerated and gained more power. It was too dangerous for him to stay here.” The trio's eyes widened.” You killed him?” You nodded.

“Before Harry came into the picture, everyone who killed him got a scar, mines on arm.” you lift my arm showing the dark mark that was there from when you worked undercover for the Order, the lighting bolt scar was larger than the one Harry had. Their eyes widened with shock, either from the size of the scar or the fact that you have a dark mark. The mark was faded and dull. There was no indentation from it and the surface of your arm was smooth other than the border of the scar. You felt their eyes trace over the scar.

“You have a-” The red headed boy said. He didn’t even finish his sentence before everyone's eyes were on me once again. I nodded.

“That's true, but I'm not on the dark side, I only have it to help Regulus and order.

About an hour went on with going back and forth on how to take down Voldemort. The front door slams open from Harper walking back into the house, a tall stocky man follows behind her. It was her boyfriend Theo. Everyone in the living room was silent. She walked into the kitchen and the two talked.

“Mom!? What happened to dinner? It’s not even cooked.” She yelled through the house. You and Regulus looked at eachother. She walked into the living room and her eyes went wide.

“What the hell-” She didn’t finish her sentence before Theo walked up beside her. She made eye contact with the trio, whom you have now learned all the names of. Their eyes widened with shock.

“Theo honey you should head home.” He didn’t say anything but nodded, grabbing his jacket and walking out of the house. “Mom. Dad. What the hell are they doing here?” She questioned. Annoyinced riddled her words, sarcasm filled her voice.

“Reg, please handle things here.” You said motioning for Harper to follow you through the house and into a different room. She didn’t understand what was going on, it all ended with a screaming match and her storming out of the house. You make your way back to the living room knowing they all heard the argument that had just insured.

“I think that's all for now, but we will be in touch.” Molly said. Sirius and Remus stayed behind to talk with you both.

You all cooked dinner together like old times, nothing seemed to change except you and Regulus are supposed to be dead. Sirius went to prison and Remus is a professor at hogwarts.

“You know I really thought I would never see you two again.” You spoke, Remus had finished setting the table.

“How do you think we feel? I honestly thought my brother was stupid and died and you killed yourself because of it. Here to know that you have a daughter.” Sirius chuckled at himself. He was being his old jokester self.

“How did you do it? I mean how did you guys manage to hide for 16 years now?” Remus said, you knew he would be curious and want to know.

“Well..” Regulus started looking at you to make sure it was okay. You nodded and let him continue. “ We got muggle jobs, she's an EMT at a hospital and I work as a doctor. We also stopped using magic as much as possible. Y/n would help heal if there was a nearby witch or wizard who needed the help, but she told them a fake name. Something that would check out.” Regulus said, taking a bite of his food. The two nodded their heads as they ate.

“That reminds me. Regulus, Jane told me that she won't be there Monday so you get her patiences.” Regulus nodded, while chewing his food.

“So Harper… is she coming home?” Remus asked. You swallowed. You weren’t sure how to respond, since it was unpredictable.

“Probably not for another couple hours. Or even a day. You never really know with her.” You explain, Harper was a wild child, a lot like you. You both didn’t get along because of how much she reminded you of yourself. She was probably at the Malfoy manor or Theo’s. You really don’t know.

“Does it happen often?” Remus asked. You nodded while eating.With that being said, the front door opens and closes, footsteps head up the stairs and her door slams shut. You sigh and get up and start towards the stairs.

“Y/n? Why don’t I go talk to her, maybe it will be better.” Remus says he was always the most logical out of them. You nod and sit down again, as he makes his way to her room. After the talk the two had, they both make their way back down and she makes herself a plate of food. You all sit together and talk. After dinner you move to the living room, to hopefully explain more of what happened earlier.

“So you're telling me I’m related to Harry Potter!” She yelled, her voice seemed to be filled with disgust and disappointment.”Yes..I know it is not ideal for you but I can’t change it.” Regulus says, Harper rolls her eyes and Sirius smacks her in the back of the head, Remus gives him a warning look.

“No rolling your eyes, they have no control over this. And for you it should be a wish to be related to such a powerful wizard.” He scolds her,she looks like she's rolling her eyes internally.

“He’s a freak. He claims Voldemort is back.” She says, her voice unwary. The four of you shudder at the name. Regulus starts to look pissed off. She knows most of the story on what happened.

“ Get out of my house young lady. You have no right talking like that.” Regulus yells sternly, it's not a normal thing for him to do. He is always the laid back parent, the one who never yells. She stomps out of the house, and you apologize for her behavior. Maybeing kicking her out wasn’t the best option but it's what happen.Once Sirius and Remus left, you and Regulus were left alone in the house. Choosing to spend your alone time reading. You wrapped his arms as you both read, a record by David Bowie playing softly in the background.

“Y/n?” You hummed in response.

“What note did you give Harry? I never really thought you would part with them.” He asks, he had ever seen the note that James had written to you when you were undercover, or when you were living in Scotland together, but he did hear about them..

“I gave him the letter he wrote when he told me he proposed to Lilly, and the one that he told me Lily was pregnant. I wanted him to know a small piece of his father, without him knowing everything that went on.” You said, placing a bookmark in your book. He nodded and let the topic go, you continued to lay in his arms as he hummed to the record. Nothing but the feeling of content littered your bones. Knowing you gave the boy a little something.

#regulus black x reader #regulus arcturus black #regulus x reader #regulus black #remus lupin #maraders era #siruis black

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