#they look like little children having a strop

[lariaz]

Ferrari's standard crossed arms post race pose unlocked ✅

[saintsir4n]

MORE SHELBY’S

when eden meets michael grey

—

1921

“Oh Michael, this is your cousin-in-law, Eden.”

Polly proudly introduced her to her son, she clutched him tightly as he sheepishly fiddled with the cufflinks of his cheap suit. Eden waddled in with the help of Tommy, her bump was big and she was ready to give birth in days, everyone knew it.

Arthur and John snickered once they saw the astonishment on Michael’s face. Their young cousin knew that Tommy, the head of the family had a wife, but she didn’t know what she looked like, every time he asked his mum… Polly, she answered, like one of the few people to rein your wild cousins in. It was the understatement of his fucking life, and Eden was truly a stunner.

“I can’t be that big can I?” Eden asked, with a smile. “Tommy, you said I wasn’t that big.”

“You look beautiful alright,” Tommy rushed out, with a hand resting on her back.

“She’s carrying another Shelby in there Michael,” Arthur nodded to his sister-in-law.

John clasped his hands together, “Here’s praying it’s a fuckin’ boy.”

“There’s already too many of you lot,” Eden scoffed, then stepped forward, feeling Tommy’s eyes on her as she stood before Michael.

“It’s nice to meet you,” he nervously shook her hand, immediately thinking he maybe should’ve kissed her cheek or hugged her but, his cousin didn’t look like he would let her go. “Another Shelby?”

Before she could respond, Arthur did.

“Apart from John’s kin, Ada’s little one, you've got another cousin, little ankle biter,” he teased, earning a small smile from his cousin.

“Inara, spittin’ image of Eden but with Tommy’s eyes,” Polly informed her son, as Eden sat down with Tommy assisting.

Their six-year-old daughter was about to be seven, inquisitive and cheeky she was, whenever Inara would get grumpy she’d look like her father but whenever she was lively and joyful she was the very picture of her mum.

“Yeah, she’s a brat,” John’s words made the married couple snap their heads in his direction.

“Oi, you don’t want to compare children,” Tommy pointed out.

“Not with your roster Johnny,” Eden quipped, making the room chuckle.

John rolled his eyes, “Fuck off.”

Eden pointed at him, “You do not want to rile me up, It could induce labour you pillock and I’m not givin’ birth here.”

“Yeah, leave it John boy, you do not wanna see a kid come out of her,” Arthur said through his laughter.

Tommy playfully glared, “Stop talkin’ about my missus and my baby.”

Michael sat back, amused by the bickering. As first impressions go, he was pleasantly overwhelmed, the men were playing with their guns like toys before Tommy settled them. It was obvious Tommy ran things, he was the one who Michael first met. Tommy was confidant, powerful and very dangerous, that was clear, but his wife was something else. A beautiful woman, but to put up with this family, she had to have something up her sleeve.

“Where is Inara?” Michael asked, breaking the arguments flooding the room.

“She’s with my mum,” Eden spoke softly, stroking her bump.

“‘Nara threw a strop yesterday, sayin’ she didn’t want another sibling,” John stated.

Tommy huffed out a smile, “Well it’s too late for that.”

“She’s fuckin’ gettin’ one,” Eden agreed. “You��ll meet her soon Michael,” for the first time she looked at the boy, really looked at him, she saw his eyes, the detail swimming in his iris’, “My god you look so much like your mum.” She found herself choking back sobs, missing the joy on Polly’s face but catching the shock flashing across Michael’s. “Sorry, anythin’ and everythin’ gets the tears flowin’.”

John wasn’t shocked, “Cried over some flowers dyin’ didn’t you Edie?”

“Watch it,” Tommy warned, rubbing a hand over her back as she wiped her tears.

“Last week it was a candle blowin’ out.”

“And next time it’ll be a knife in your face,” Eden snapped, groaning at their laughter.

Michael was startled by the threat.

“There’s my girl,” Tommy pressed a kiss to her cheek before she pushed him away. “Pol, can you boil the kettle,” he noted the pot of tea was bare as were the cups.

Polly nodded, knowing how much Eden drank during her first pregnancy, her second was even worse.

Michael gulped, although no one apart from Tommy caught it. The teen lowered himself into a seat as his mother scolded his cousins for their poor habits, claiming she didn’t want him to mirror them.

“You should meet Isaiah, he’s around your age Michael,” Eden said, sending a look toward Tommy. “It’ll be good for you to make a friend.”

Michael nodded, listening to whatever advise he could take, eyes darting between Eden, trying not to get caught looking at her too much, and so he would look toward his cousin Tommy, who stroked her large bump and then his mum who returned with a cup and the steaming kettle fresh from the fire.

He occasionally heard the mumbles from his other two cousins — Finn and Ada, he hadn’t met yet — John and Arthur snickered off to the side, still stood up as if they were waiting to leave.

“… friends, what’s the point? They might end up like Eden and Grace,” Arthur whispered, quite harshly to his younger brother.

John’s mood soured at the mention, “That bloody barmaid.”

They knew not to mention Grace around Eden. Their sister-in-law fought she found a friend ever since Enzo and Martha passed and Dorris moved to London, but was a huge mistake. The Irish Woman’s betrayal caused the hole in Eden’s heart to grow as did her paranoia.

Tommy felt he should’ve protected her more, but he trusted Grace as a friend, especially since he didn’t have many female friends. But it costed him a bullet to the shoulder.

Even with Lizzie, Esme and Dorris from a far he was wary about everyone who surrounded the family, even if they were family.

Tommy was constantly thinking. Always.

“That won’t happen with Michael. Isaiah is loyal, you’ve seen him, Eden practically raised the boy,” John said quietly. “He’s Jimmy’s son.”

“I ain’t worried, we just have to be careful, not everyone’s a friend alright,” Arthur muttered, knowing that Isaiah wasn’t the one he didn’t trust.

“But family is family.”

The two broke apart to see Tommy right behind them. They didn’t even hear him move.

“Fuck, Tom,” John cursed, eyeing him.

“Keep your bloody trousers on,” Tommy scoffed, “you ready to go?”

“‘Course Tom,” Arthur nodded, shoving John forward, “you need to wear a fuckin’ bell on ya.”

“Yeah, alright.” Tommy smirked, then turned back to to the table, to see Eden sipping on some tea with a pensive look on her face. He pressed a kiss to her head as he stared at his Aunt, “Make sure he treats my Edie well, Pol.”

“Get going,” Eden playfully shoved Tommy away just as he gave her a chaste kiss on the lips.

“Don’t worry Michael, we’ll be back to show you, what’s what,” John grinned.

Polly gasped, “You’ll do no such thing!”

“Let’s leave ‘em boys,” Arthur said, “Wouldn’t wanna ruin the tea party.”

That had John snickering.

Michael smiled, watching as Tommy scanned Eden again.

The pregnant woman waved at him, “Bye, my love.”

“Darlin’, stay safe,” Tommy didn’t want to leave her for too long. “The both of you, alright.” He was pulled away by his brothers as he nodded at the mother-son duo, “Pol, Michael.”

When the door slammed shut behind them, Michael coyly smiled at his mum.

“They seem nice.”

Eden and Polly laughed.

The latter spoke, “They’re anythin’ but.”

Eden agreed, “But they’re your family, so got used to it.”

——

a/n:

I was thinking what if Eden met Michael before his corruption… so season 2.

[xxdumbblondexx]

--- Additional Learning Support ---

9 - on fire and full of screaming kids

Master list --- Next --- Previous

You flapped a tea towel desperately around, trying to clear the smoke that flooded the whole down stairs of your home. If you found that little shit in this smoke, you swore you would kill it before your parents had the chance to kill you. 

All you did was turn you back for five seconds and she’d set fire to the kitchen roll. Then while you put that out, she set fire to the rug. Then the curtains. Then the actual cookie dough. 

As soon as you got a hold of her, you knew you had to shake her down to see if she was hiding matches or gasoline on her person. 

All the while, the two children ran about giggling. Like it was the funniest thing and that they weren't about to have the front seats to your FUNERAL. 

A knock against the front door and you were sure it was the fire brigade here to confiscate the child. Still, through the smoke you found the way to the door, coughing your lungs up in the process. 

“I know the fire alarm’s going off! I think I've put it out unless that brat has started another!” You shouted to whoever was on the opposite side of the door, hoping, praying that it was your big brother here to save your ass. 

You did not, however, expect it to be Albedo, standing there, stunned. 

A few seconds passed where neither of you said a word, only staring in surprise at each other. 

That was then spoiled by another fire alarm in your home beginning to scream out and the innocent giggling of Klee flooding out your house. 

“Klee!” Albedo shouted and, without invitation, charged inside your home.

By the time you regained the courage to walk inside the crime scene, you found almost every window in the building open and Albedo inside your living room. He knelt before Klee, holding both of her hands in his and staring into her huge demon like eyes.

“And what have I said about using your toy to start fires?” 

“Explosion inside city wall, grounded be thy woe.” 

“Right, so do you want to tell me why you still did it?” 

Klee gave him a one shoulder shrug before looking off sideways with a pout that even though you were mad at her, you couldn't lie,it was adorable. 

His reply came in a sigh as he stood up straight once again, running a hand through his dusty blonde hair. 

“I want you to sit on this sofa until I finish tidying this up, ok?” Klee nodded her head to his question although her mouth stayed in a firm line. 

He watched her as she plopped herself on the sofa, arms crossed over her chest in a strop. 

“You know that sofa is flammable as well.” You said as he came closer to you, on his way into the kitchen. 

“Yep, but she won't be doing anything without Dodoco.” He raised his hand to show you a keychain with fluffy rabbit plushie on it, along with a round bunny-like ball.

“And that’s what she’s been starting fires with?” You tried to suppress the laugh hogging up the space in your throat. 

“Yeah, it’s in Jumpy Dumpty. It’s where she keeps all the explosives I keep in my lab.”  

The laugh actually began to suffocate you as it jumped into something else. 

“Lab? Explosives?!” 

“Yeah…I’ve tried anything to stop her from getting them and somehow she still does.” 

“Wow…I don't even know how to process that.” You dropped yourself at the doorway of your kitchen, trying to process everything you’d just heard. 

“Let me help you clean up. It’s the least I can do.” He said as he evaluated the disaster Klee had caused upon your kitchen. 

“Yeah sure, but can you do me a favour.” His eyes shot back to you and you took a moment to realise just how amazing they were. They were gold, too gold to be actual gold. It was more like sunlight, warm yet cold at the same time. 

“Put a flammable warning on that kid. Like seriously, she looks all angel like but that kids a demon.” 

“That kid’s my sister.” His words sounded like a warning but yet a smile was on his lips, telling you something different. 

You stalled for a second, mouth moving but no words coming out. You couldn’t determine if he was offended by that comment or was laughing about it. That caused you to spit out the only thing you could think of as, 

“I mean I'm related to Childe so who’s really winning here?”

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

Hiyaaa,

Last one for tonight. I think after this is will possibly be only one or two every 3-5 days because my stocks have started to run low.

I hope your enjoying this and if you have anything to say or add, feel free to.

Thanks for reading x

[leupagus]

Tentatively calling this "Letter of Marque"

Gus: ...you know what AU I want, is the one where Chauncy finds Ed, not Stede

Etben: …tell me more

Gus: and Chauncy gives a version of that speech to Ed, who obviously shoots his head off in response, but the speech still gets to him

Etben: Oh deffo

Gus: because Chancy (Chauncy? Chaucey? whatever, the twin) tells him it's obvious Ed wants Stede, but he's not worthy

Etben: Well and also that Ed is a shadow of his former self and who would even want THIS Ed anyway? At least Blackbeard had SOMETHING going for him

Gus: Yes exactly

Gus: So ED leaves and goes back to like - his mom or something

Gus: like can't go back to the boat, can't go back to Stede

Gus: sadly does not have a Mary, unless you count Izzy which I don't

Gus: but he sails back to England or wherever

Etben: Oh noooooo buddy

Gus: (I'm curious about that actually because his mom worked for an estate, presumably in England, but she and their family lived close enough to a port and in their own shitty house)

Gus: (unless maybe the fabric scene is after Ed killed his dad and his mom had to go into service?)

Gus: (anyway DETAILS)

Gus: I don't think I'd want his mom to be like, dead or anything

Etben: Nah

Etben: She remarried, maybe? She’s doing fine

Gus: like maybe she's even happy

Gus: omg what if Ed has little brothers and sisters

Gus: and is like WHAT ARE THESE

Etben: Omg I would SCREAM

*

"There's a man asking after you at the market, mum," Tommy reported from somewhere behind the large bag of flour he was holding as. "Help?" he added as he banged into the table for the third time.

Rachel guided him to the slightly lower bench to the side, and he put it down with a thump. "Good Lord, Tommy, I'm not baking for the whole town."

"You're baking for your first grandchild, and Henrie will throw an absolute strop if you don't make the thing with the—" Tommy made the criss-cross shape of the fairy buns that her three youngest had loved when they were children. "Besides, the midwife says it's to be sometime in the next week, so we'd best get to it," added Tommy, clapping his lightly-floured hands together. "Come along, you layabouts!"

"Enough of your sass," said Caleb from the other table, where he'd been working out the evening's loaves for the past hour. "What's this man who's asking for your mother?"

"No need to be jealous, my love," Rachel said, enjoying the huff of her husband's shoulders as he kept his grin facing the sourdough.

"I assumed it was one of the ribbon-sellers pressing for settlment of a bill, Missus Smythe," Caleb shot back, but when she leaned over to swat him, he gathered her into his arms, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

"Ugh, get a room," Tommy moaned just as the bell above the shop door jangled.

"We have one," Caleb reminded him, and Rachel kept herself from giggling like a lass fifty years younger as Tommy stomped out into the front of the shop, his voice muffled by the curtain at the door as he spoke to whoever had come in.

"Hold on, I want to know what handsome man is asking about me at the market," Rachel protested, making a show of struggling against Caleb's hold. "Perhaps it's my Prince Charming."

"He's a bit late for his rendez-vous, you'll have to admit," Caleb said, giving her another kiss.

Rachel was about to murmur about how Caleb was as charming as any man she'd ever wanted — ever dreamed of, even though he'd been late too — and had rescued her better than any prince to boot. But she was thwarted by her youngest son, this time, making an unexpected appearance from the front of the shop and looking quite smart in his new frock coat.

"Tommy said you two were canoodling back here," Rich said accusingly, his hand darting out to grab a muffin before his mother could stop him. "Awful. Mr. Rhodes says one should always maintain a professional atmosphere at one's place of business."

"Mr. Rhodes is your master, Apprentice Smythe, not ours," Rachel reminded him as she broke free of Caleb's hold to snatch the half-muffin Rich hadn't already eaten out of his hand. "Speaking of which, what might you be doing here and not—"

"He sent me on an errand to get more ink at the market," Rich protested, holding up a bottle as evidence. "And while I was there, I overheard a man asking for a Mrs. Smythe, so I thought I'd tell you."

"This fellow is going to find Henrie next, bed-bound though she is, before he finds you," Caleb muttered; she didn't have to look back to hear the smile in his face.

"Hush," Rachel scolded, and held the muffin out of reach when her son made a grab for it. "And what else did this man say?"

Rich harumphed. "He said he knew you from a long time ago, back when you were Mrs. Teach—"

"Mrs. Teach?" Rachel said, her blood going hot and cold all at once. She reached out blindly behind her; Caleb caught her hand and let her squeeze. It probably hurt, but he said nothing as he held on. 

Rich, with all the tact he'd ever had, seized his opportunity and the muffin. "Yeah," he said, a bit muffled as he stuffed it into his face. "Wanted to know if you were still alive, where you were, if you were well, that sort of thing."

"What — what did he look like?" Rachel could scarcely breathe for fear, or hope. Or both.

"See for yourself," Rich shrugged, turning to call behind him. "Sir? Mister — I'm sorry, I never did catch your name—"

"Edward," said Rachel's eldest son, stepping through the curtain as Rachel felt her knees turn to water. "My name's Edward."

[utterlyinevitable]

#29 from the first and last prompts please. Ethan x MC, up to you ❤

29. first vs last time waking up together

I’ve done this for both Odette and Becca 😊 (also this got waaaay longer than intended..) 

Ethan x Becca - The First Time

Ethan’s body jolted awake with the falling fear he’s about to be late. His eyes dart open and immediately find his alarm clock. 7:12am. He’s overslept by two hours. He starts to move, throw the covers off him. But then he remembers. He has nowhere to be - he quit days ago and it still hasn’t settled. 

Then Ethan becomes acutely aware of the pins and needles in his arm. Rolls towards the delightfully warm tingling. 

His chest swells when he sees her curled up against him. Her face nuzzled in the crook of his elbow. Without a thought he wraps the rest of himself around her, nose burrowing in her wild hair. A small hum of content leaves her parted lips. Ethan nestles closer. So close there’s no space left between them. 

They lay like that for seconds, minutes, Ethan could swear time stopped when he’s this happy. 

And then there’s a roll of hips against his. He thinks nothing of it. Then again. And another pressured wiggle of her behind. 

He smirks against her hair, moving to pepper a kiss to her temple. 

“Morning,” he whispers, tone hoarse with first words of the day. 

Becca makes a nondescript grumble. Turns towards him. Her dark eyes large and innocent, bleary with sleep. He watches as they find him, widen with the realization that they’re here - they’ve done this - and it wasn’t all a dream, clear, and a smile pulls.

“Hey.” 

Ethan x Becca - The Last Time

Becca’s sprawled out over his bare chest in their California king-sized bed that’s much too big for their near empty nest. Ethan’s stroking her hair, loving fingers massaging her scalp. Tendrils of nostalgia washes over her with every caress. 

Twenty-five years and not much has changed. Not really. He still sleeps wrapped around her in this big bed. Even with 3 children and a roost of pets she hates sleeping without him. 

“I miss you already,” she mumbles into his still sculpted pec. 

“I know, darling. We’ll be fine.” 

“Couldn’t you just be normal and pay the extra shipping fees? You did for Dakota.” 

Ethan couldn’t help but chortle, “Because Dakota vehemently refused the option. This was Care’s idea, anyway.” 

“Daddy-Daughter road trip,” Becca sighs and squeezes her husband tighter. 

Selfishly she wants to be mad, she hates being without him. But she can’t. It’s too precious. Too sacred of an experience she wouldn’t dare ruin for them. 

“Who would’ve thought?” she adds more to herself than anything. 

Neither could have predicted how utterly enamored and hands-on Ethan would be as a father. Neither ever thought it was in the cards. Every decision they’ve made veered otherwise. Needless to say they were pleasantly surprised. 

“Sometimes I think you love her more than me,” she playfully pouts. One final strop in loving protest before he needs to get on the road. 

“Only some days.” 

Ethan catches her hand before it makes contact with his chest. Uses the leverage to pull her into a kiss. 

Ethan x Odette - The First Time

Naturally Ode’s body clock woke her up promptly at 5:50AM. The only sound filling the 15th floor condo is the soft snores of the man beside her. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she took in the naturally gruff man looking oh so childlike. She couldn’t stop staring. Couldn’t stop stop from thinking about how far they’ve come. How much more there could be between them... 

There’s really only one more thing to do to ruin their friendship completely.... 

And that’s enough thinking for now. 

Ode gingerly moves to get up - destination coffee time, a fresh brew for them both. A fresh pot and a fresh start. But Ethan rolls towards her, still blissfully deep in slumber, his hand finding purchase on her hip. And it doesn’t help his bed is more comfortable than a cloud. 

Resigned, Ode watches him a little longer. Paints dreams what could be all over his ingenuous expression. 

< continued in two in a bed: ii >

Ethan x Odette - The Last Time

Ethan abruptly wakes to the duvet being pulled off of him. “Huh - Wha-” Blinking rapidly his eyes settle on the culprit. 

Odette’s standing at the foot of the bed dressed in her housework attire, folding the large blanket with anxiety written all over her face. 

“Etta...” 

He moves with loose limbs, shuffling towards her. Ethan helps her fold it then places it to the side of the bed. He sits on the edge and pulls her between his legs, cradling her fidgety hands between his own. 

“Everything’s fine. It’s okay,” he coos. 

A thumb trails to brush against her cheek, lingering there. He knows the effect before it happens, just like he intended, her shoulders relax with the contact. 

“Come back to bed.” 

“We’re moving today,” she deadpans. 

“We’re moving upstairs. Not across the city.” Ethan wraps himself around her. “Lets relax and enjoy our last few hours here.” 

And then they fall back into bed. 

_______________

Perma:

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Ethan:

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[blu-joons]

BTS Reaction: Your Child Gets Jealous Of Their New Sibling

Jin:

He leaned down, pressing a kiss to the top of your baby daughter’s head as he came home from work, watching as she slowly began to crawl around the floor.

Beside her, your son pouted, staring across at Jin, “what’s wrong buddy? Has something happened?” He asked, walking over to him.

“You kissed Y/D/N first,” he sighed, feeling Jin’s lips press to the top of his head too, “I want a kiss as well dad, kiss me before you kiss her.”

“It doesn’t matter,” he chuckled, hugging him tight, “I still kiss you both the same amount.”

“But me first.”

He looked across at you, both of you knew how jealous he was of the attention she was receiving, “I love you both the same, and kiss you both just as much.”

His hands tickled against your son’s side, hearing his laughter roar, “but you always pick Y/D/N over me these days, and I don’t like it.”

Jin looked down at him, “only because Y/D/N is a baby, you’re a big strong boy these days, you need to be a grown up, don’t you?”

“I do.”

Yoongi:

His arms wrapped around your son, holding him closely as you walked around the park, you continued to push the pram, your daughter walking beside you.

Suddenly, she stopped, raising her hands in the air. You turned to face her, “Y/D/N, can you keep walking please, we’ve got places to be.”

“Daddy carry me,” she demanded, pointing to her brother in Yoongi’s arms, “I want daddy to carry me like he does for Y/D/N.”

“He can’t,” you sighed, “you can walk on your legs, so that’s what you need to do now.”

“I don’t want to.”

You sighed, looking to Yoongi for help, “how about when Y/S/N goes back in his pram, daddy will carry you for a bit, how does that sound?”

She nodded, jogging back to walk in line with you, “you promise that you’ll do that? When will you put him in the pram?”

Yoongi chuckled, “soon, don’t you worry, but now can you be an adult like mummy and I and carry on walking properly, please?”

“I can.”

Hoseok:

You chuckled across at Hobi as he tried to feed your daughter, using the spoon of food as an airplane to try and encourage her to eat up, without much of a strop.

Your son was beside you, tugging your shirt, opening his mouth open, “Y/S/N, what are you doing? Can you eat your dinner for me please?”

“Feed me like Y/D/N,” he demanded, pointing to Hoseok as he yet again flew the spoonful around your daughter before feeding it to her.

“You can feed yourself,” you sighed, but he shook his head, “do you really want me to do this?”

“I do.”

You were reluctant, but you could tell he was jealous, cutting up one of his vegetables, flying it around him, “open up for the train.”

He giggled, taking the mouthful of food, chewing loudly on it, “I liked it mummy, do it again for me please, and then again.”

You sighed, hearing Hobi snigger alongside of you, “once more, and then mummy wants to eat her own dinner too please.”

“One more time.”

Namjoon:

You led your daughter into her bedroom, taking your son into his room, laying him down in the cot, peering over to watch him making sure that he fell asleep comfortably.

From across the landing, you heard your daughter scream, Namjoon running in. “Why are you screaming? What’s happened?”

“I want you to put me to bed, I don’t want to wait for Y/S/N,” she groaned, sitting up in her bed, turning her lamp on.

“We won’t be a minute,” he assured her, “Y/S/N is nearly asleep now anyway, I promise.”

“Don’t go.”

Namjoon sighed, feeling her hands wrap around his arm, “you need to stop getting so upset when we do things for Y/S/N first.”

She pouted, shaking her head, “I don’t like waiting, I want you to come and help me, before you help him, he’s only a baby.”

He smirked, “that’s why he needs more of our help, he’s not as strong and independent as you are just yet, you’re a big girl now.”

“I am a big girl.”

Jimin:

Your two children sat in the bath, your daughter was only a baby still, whilst your son was a lot bigger, taking up much more room in the tub for her.

You were careful with her, as you splashed the water over her, “let’s make you nice and clean little one,” you cheered.

“Mummy, wash me,” your son then shrieked, throwing his arms in the air, “I want to be washed and be clean as well as Y/D/N does.”

“You wash yourself now,” you reminded him, “because you wanted to be a big boy.”

“No, I didn’t.”

Jimin chuckled, straight away he saw the jealousy in your son’s eyes, “why don’t I wash you? Would that make you feel better, more like Y/D/N?”

He nodded, passing Jimin the bar of soap, “I don’t want to do big boy things, I want you to do things like you do for Y/D/N.”

You smiled, “does that mean when you get out of the bath you have to go straight to bed and can’t stay up and read a book?”

“I change my mind; I want a book!”

Taehyung:

The three of you laid with your son, he was tiny, only a few days old, the two of you didn’t dare let him out of your sight to make that he was alright.

Your bedroom door opened, and your daughter walked in, “there you are,” she smiled, climbing up on the bed, and laying over the two of you.

“What are you doing?” You asked her, running your hands through her hair, “you’re hurting Y/S/N if you lay like that across her.”

“But you won’t cuddle me,” she cried out, “you never cuddle me anymore, always Y/S/N.”

“That’s not true.”

She sat up, pointing to her brother that was in Taehyung’s arms, “you left me and didn’t involve me in your cuddle, I want to have a cuddle too.”

You wrapped your arms around her, sitting her on your lap, “Y/S/N needs cuddles because he can’t walk like you yet, you’re a big girl.”

Taehyung smiled across at her, “when he’s as big as you he’ll get less cuddles because he’ll be able to do all the cool things you can do.”

“When he’s as big as me.”

Jungkook:

His hands held onto your daughter, helping to put her coat on as you prepared to go on a walk, only for your son to throw his coat into Jungkook’s arms as he did so.

Jungkook frowned, dropping the coat to the floor, “we don’t throw things, you could have really hurt your sister then when you did that.”

“Then help me,” he whined, stamping his feet on the ground, “help me put my coat on, I need your help too, but you don’t help.”

“I was getting to you if you were patient,” he argued, “Y/D/N needs more help than you do.”

“I don’t care.”

Jungkook’s head shook, “that’s not very nice, the two of you will both get my help, but I can only help one of you at a time, stop being so stroppy.”

Your son frowned, picking his coat back up, standing right by Jungkook’s side, “hurry up so we can go out dad and play in the park.”

You chuckled beside him, as Jungkook zipped your daughter’s coat up, “what do you say for being a stroppy boy a moment ago first?”

“I’m sorry.”

---

Masterlist

[the-six-fingered-villain]

So I read The Queen’s Gambit. It was good, it was bad, it was a fascinating example of how transferring something to the screen can make things better.  TLDR; you don’t want to actually read it. The show is great and while the book adds to one’s appreciation of it, it loses points on charm and joy. If you love the show you might read it, but guard your heart

One of the most striking things about the book is how much dialog and language is lifted verbatim by the show. Alma says her lines word for word (with very little extra) but she’s a much more wretched creature in the book, props to Marielle Heller for infusing the character with so much soul.

A lot of book!Beth’s inner monologues and observations were broken out into dialog, much of it voiced by others. The impact of this on the store is really interesting I think. A lot of the dense technical/background stuff was given to sports announcers which is reasonable/expected and allowed space for great shots in the show. More interestingly a lot of it was broken out into dialog for the people in her life or conversations to flesh out her time spent with others, making for richer characters. There’s no reason it couldn’t have been written that way in the book as well.

The show is kinder to its background characters at the expense of... nothing. It’s just better. As my partner would observe after an episode, “it’s not subtle, but it is nuanced”. There was just more to them as people while book!boys felt colder and their relationships with Beth more antagonistic. Show!Beth is more competent/confident right off the bat and there’s less sulking about being beaten/bested on behalf of the boys. While show!Beth & Benny isn’t to my taste, the treatment in the book was just outright... blah/bad. And don’t get me started on Harry (but I’m overly fond of/moved by show!Harry)

Book!Beth’s substance abuse problems are much more sleep/nerves related compared to the show’s more performance enhancing take. This meant her descent/the ‘bad’ parts were darker and in a way more sympathetic and in no way appealing/relatable. The book has a darker/grittier/”more real” take on everything at the expense of joy. It does however lean more into Beth’s anger issues which I enjoy/relate to... but between wrath and happiness these days I’d rather choose happiness. 

I often highlight lines I like as I read (as those who’s story I comment on know ;) ) and I’m including some below the cut (minus the commentary I usually tack to them)

“Suddenly everyone was quiet, and they all began to look at Beth. She looked back at them, unblinking, and she felt rising in her a hatred as black as night.”

“She felt her cheeks flush; something in her reached out desperately toward the boards, the dead positions on them. There was nothing left there now. She was just a little girl again, without power.”

“In the pictures there were children everywhere, often snuggled up against the older people. It was all strange; she had never been touched very much by older people, except for punishment. She did not let herself think about Mrs. Deardorff’s razor strop. If Deardorff was going to use it, she could take it. Somehow she sensed that what she had been caught doing was of a magnitude beyond usual punishment”

“Back in Lexington, Mrs. Wheatley’s voice would sometimes have a distance to it, as though she were speaking from some lonely reach of an interior childhood. Here in Mexico City the voice was distant but the tone was theatrically gay, as though Alma Wheatley were savoring an incommunicable private mirth. It made Beth uneasy.”

“There was something deeply pathetic about her, and Beth’s heart softened.” <-- bitch is talking about Alma :( she’s so cruel. Blessed is the movement in media towards healthier loving relationships

“She began to relax as her mind moved away from her body and onto the tableau of forces in front of her.”

“She could picture him as she had seen him at Methuen, wishing he were somewhere else, everything about him saying that he wanted to make no connections, wanted always to be somewhere else.” <-- talking about Mr. Wheatley

“He was wearing a bright-red shirt and gray corduroy pants with a pair of sneakers that matched the shirt. There was something dark and quick about him, and Beth, remembering his bad teeth and his fierce way of playing chess, felt herself stiffen a little at the sight of him.” 

“The geometry of a position could be read and reread and not exhausted of possibility. You saw deeply into this layer of it, but there was another layer beyond that, and another.”

“She did not like Benny’s insouciance in the face of her uncertainty, the kind of sunny blankness that suffused his face from time to time. He had looked that way during the awards ceremony and during the time she did her interviews and signed autographs and thanked the officials and the USCF people who had come down from upstate New York to talk about the importance of chess. His face was blank now. She turned her eyes to the road.”

““P to B four.” “P to B four.” “The Levenfish,” Benny said dryly. “I never liked it.” “Play your knight.” Suddenly his voice was like ice. “Don’t tell me what to move,” he said. She pulled back as if stung.”

“Sometimes being with Benny was like being with no one at all. For hours at a time he would be completely impersonal. Something in her responded to that, and she became impersonal and cool herself, communicating nothing but chess.”

“Most of the time, chess was the only language between them. One afternoon when they had spent three or four hours on endgame analysis she said wearily, “Don’t you get bored sometimes?” and he looked at her blankly. “What else is there?” he said.”

“Beth was furious with Benny—furious at him for being easy to beat and furious with the way he was taking it, trying to look unmoved, as though nothing affected him.”

“She could feel herself moving past Benny in a way that was almost physical.”

“Making love had been all right too, although not as exciting as she had hoped. Benny hadn’t said much. He was gentle and easy with her, but there was still that distance of his.”

“There was a barrier between herself and whatever world the phone would attach her to; she could not penetrate the barrier.”

“What else could she do? There was nothing she wanted to do and no one to call.”

“they looked like old men anywhere, like a multitude of incarnations of Mr. Shaibel, playing out games that no one would ever pay attention to.”

“Seeing Borgov in the parlor of his suite, planning his next move with the help of Tal and Petrosian, she felt the same thing she had felt then. She felt inconsequential—a child peering into the adult world. Who was she to presume? She needed help. She hurried past the room and to the elevator, feeling awkward and terribly alone”

[green-and-grey-kenaz]

I Sleep with the Dirt by Fire Glow

Language: English

Chapter 2: I'll be home, safe and tucked away

Characters in Chapter: Regulus Black, Sirius Black,  Albus Dumbledore, Harry Potter

Chapter Summary:

Sirius and Regulus (returned from the dead and overcoming inferius tendencies) have a conversation over whether or not they should adopt Harry Potter. Regulus and Dumbledore have a conversation about Horcruxes and Regulus has some revelations about Voldemort. Sirius visits the Dursleys for afternoon tea and threatening them.

Word Count: c. 4 000

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/34049455/chapters/84695911 (whole work, starting from chapter 1)

“Need new room.” Regulus said suddenly, looking up from his breakfast. Kreacher had prepared him a platter of meats and cheeses to have on bread. He’d made quick work of the delicious meats and had started ripping the bread into manageable chunks. Sirius always made him eat something that wasn’t meat for some reason.

“What?” His brother asked, looking up from his breakfast of spiked coffee and a single chocolate croissant.  

“M’ room’s for children. ‘m not child. ‘nd has memories.” Regulus said carefully. “Can’t get better with memories. Not good.”

“Reg, I know this house is big and all but we don’t have enough room for you just to claim two.”

“You have.”

“That’s different.”

“How?”

“I ran away. It wasn’t my room anymore.”

“I died.”

Sirius sighed, rolling a hand down his face and taking a long sip of his spiked coffee before pouring a liberal helping of whisky in to top it up. A part of Regulus knew he should be concerned with how much Sirius was drinking. The other part of him pushed his empty glass towards his brother. He got a thimble full.

“Look, after I’ve moved Harry in you can get a second room, I think that’s fair, don’t you?”

“Hm. Not allowed.”

“Look, I don’t care what Dumbledore says, I’m his Godfather! He’d be a lot better off with me. I’m moving him in with us and that’s final.”

“Eat him.”

“You are not eating Harry, Reg!”

“Food.”

“I know you know he’s not food. You know people aren’t food. You don’t eat Remus.”

“Don’t try to anymore. Could. If I wanted to.” He sounded sullen, even to himself but if there was one thing he did not want to allow, it was having Potter in the house. Regulus had already lost his brother to a Potter once. He wasn’t going to again.  

Sirius groaned.

“No eating people. Besides, I know you don’t want to eat people. You want to be better and back to normal. That’s why you’ve been trying so hard at reading and presenting yourself.” He gestured at Regulus’ outfit. He’d dressed carefully for the day in the rich fabrics that Sirius now let him wear. It didn’t stop Regulus glowering at Sirius for speaking the truth. He would rather not eat the Potter spawn. He did want to return to being who he had once been and not some mindless creature focused on the consumption of human flesh (as tasty as it was). Merlin! He shouldn’t find human flesh tasty! That was not normal.

When he was better, Regulus knew he would be able to do things he enjoyed and missed. He could finally meet Narcissa and her son. He could take afternoon tea with Severus rather than the brief meetings that Sirius tolerated. He could read more than a few pages of a book before his mind forced him to chase whatever dust mote had caught his attention because Merlin forbid he try sit down and focus on himself.

“Come off it, Reg. You care and you know it.”

“Fine. Doesn’t mean must have Potter.” He snapped. He glanced towards the hallway a plan formulating in his head. Would it be worth it?

“No, you are not setting mother off because you’re in a strop, Regulus.”

“Why?”

“Because that’s petty and beneath you. Besides, it distresses her to see you so.”

That was an unpleasant reminder. He had tried to have a conversation with his mother, hoping that it would make him feel more like himself. She had scarcely recognised him as he was. Feral. Wild. Uncivilised. Not like any son of hers. Sirius told him to take no heed of the portrait which had likely been made close to her death and to have little of who she actually was.

It did not make Regulus feel much better. But mother screaming at Sirius would.

“Look, Harry’s moving in with us. He has to. We can’t leave him to suffer with the Dursleys. They’re muggles. You wouldn’t wish muggles on anyone. Didn’t you use to tell me that muggleborns should give up the muggle heritage and be adopted into a pureblood family. Well, here’s our chance.”

“Not Potter.” Regulus insisted. “Not him. Get another one.”

“It’s not because I’m being charitable. Harry’s my Godson and that’s why we’re adopting him.”

“I’ll leave.” Regulus threatened.

“And where would you go?”

“Cissa.”

“What? And put her son at risk?”

“Then I am a risk! Would eat Potter!”

Sirius sighed, running a hand down his face, pulling at his skin which only served to make him look more skeletal. He had not put back on the weight he should have after Azkaban. Regulus knew he was filling out his own weight, recovering from the lack of appetite that had emerged when he realised his only destination was the grave. If he could put the weight back on, so should Sirius. It was another worrying sign that he did not know what to do with.

“Reg, you’re not well yet. That doesn’t make you a risk. Just…”

“Eat people.” Regulus admitted. “Risk.”

“You’ve not tried to eat someone in a long time. Think about it, it’s been weeks and you’ve not once tried to eat me, Professor Dumbledore, Remus or Snape. Although the latter might be because I can’t imagine he’d taste very nice what with all the grease.”

“Be nice.” Regulus growled. He had learnt to tolerate the wolf, even though he had hurt Sirius. Severus had never hurt him so Sirius should respect their friendship.

“See, you’re even caring about people. That’s a good step.”

“No Potter. Go to Cissa.”

“Fine, even if you aren’t worried about hurting Draco, what about Lucius? Wasn’t he a Death Eater?”

Regulus stilled, frowning. Lucius was one of theirs. Had been? The newspapers he was slowly working his way through said that Malfoy had been found innocent of any crimes. Yes he may be a purist but could anyone actually see someone of his calibre fighting and killing? Regulus had been offended that that excuse got Lucius off but not Sirius. Everyone knew Malfoys had opposed the Statute on Secrecy because they associated with Muggles and what was more, they allowed Half Bloods into the family tree! Blacks were of a much higher calibre.

What was he thinking about?

Lucius.

Ah.

He did not know his allegiance and while blood would keep him safe with Narcissa, he did not think Lucius would extend the marriage of their blood to the Blacks. No, he could not seek refuge with his beloved cousin.

“Not ready.” Regulus said softly, looking at Sirius. “Time.”

“Not ready for what?”

“Potter. Give me time.” He paused and frowned. “Please?”

Sirius sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

“Okay. We’ll wait.”

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_- _-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

“Good afternoon, Regulus.”

Bright blue eyes glittered as the old man sat down on a chair. Regulus however stared at his violet purple bag. There was something in there. It called to him like a siren, demanding his attention and focus.

“Sirius, if you could leave us?” Dumbledore asked and Regulus knew that his brother must be behind him. He always wanted to be included in these.

“I don’t see why I don’t get to stay when you have these little get togethers with Regulus. I was in the Order and served the cause well. There’s no reason to keep secrets from me.” Sirius grumbled but Regulus could barely hear him, so focused on the bag. It was like a faint calling echoing in his bones. His left arm itched.

“The fewer people who know, the better. And I think it is good for you and Regulus to get to spend some time apart. Not for long, of course, as there are few people who can know the full truth of Regulus’ situation, but we do not want either of you becoming co-dependent.”

“I’m not co-dependent.” Sirius muttered.

“It is a risk best to avoid. Regulus will have to return to school once he’s himself again.”

“Study here.” Regulus offered, still staring at the bag. The idea of being surrounded by children he might potentially eat was appealing which was why he should not go back. Besides, he hadn’t brought Sirius around to his way of thinking yet. He needed Sirius to understand. Sirius was his brother and as difficult as his return to life was it had been a long time since he had been this happy.

“Reg, you can’t teach yourself your NEWTs.” Sirius said.

“Can.” That seemed like a challenge and he was willing to take it up.

“Reg, you need to get proper teaching so we can get you back to normality.” Sirius said and Regulus felt a hand on her shoulder

Regulus shook his head.

“Stay. Safe. Family.”

He did not know if he zoned out but Sirius’ hand was no longer on his shoulder and was pulling away.

“Fine. I’ll go, but if it’s important, you would tell me, right Professor?”

“Sirius, I think we’re at the point you can call me Albus. And I would.” There was a reassuring note to Dumbledore’s voice. It reminded Regulus had how the Dark Lord spoke. Comforting promises. He heard the door close behind him.

“Good afternoon, Regulus. How have you been?” Dumbledore asked. Regulus stared at the bag and tried to remember what manners were. They had once been important to him. He heard the man sigh.

“I had thought you might be more ready for this.”

“What is it? What’s in the bag?”

Dumbledore gestured for Regulus to look and he dashed forward, hands eagerly reaching inside. It was a book. He fingered it carefully. Felt the feel of the paper and the weave of dead magic. The echo was as near familiar as the magic of his family and that could mean only one other person. The Dark Lord had near created him after all. Slowly, Regulus opened the book, staring at predominantly blank pages. The only writing which he could barely make out was the name ‘Tom Marvolo Riddle’.

“I think you know what this was.” Dumbledore said softly. “And that perhaps what you have been hiding, what you died to hide, was one of the same.”

“Horcrux.” Regulus whispered, caressing the diary. It felt… precious to him. He traced the lines denoting what had to be the Dark Lord’s true name.

Tom Marvolo Riddle.  

He knew the name Marvolo. He still remembered the ancestries that mother had instilled in him. That was a Gaunt family name. Descendants of Slytherin who had kept the family ties closer, marrying first cousins or kids to their uncles and aunts. An ignoble end to a once powerful line of magic.

Riddle was not a pureblood surname. It sounded English, so perhaps Australian, Kiwi or American. He did not know all their pureblood lines. But why hide it? Could… he be the unthinkable? Not pure?

“Thankfully destroyed, by the actions of your brother’s Godson.” Dumbledore said.

“How?”

“He killed a basilisk. The venom is quiet destructive.”

Regulus’ hand ran over the tooth mark.

“Slytherin’s pet.” He muttered. He wondered if he could get basilisk venom without Sirius realising. End this once and for all.

A realisation dawned.

“How many…” To split one’s soul once was a horrific act but to do it multiple times? Regulus had read the magic. It was dark and evil. He hadn’t even considered one might go through it more than once.

“Horcruxes? I do not know but I suspect that perhaps six horcruxes. That would give seven parts of the soul. A powerful number. This one came into my possession via Lucius Malfoy. Do you think that Voldemort-“ Regulus flinched and glanced around the room. His former Lord did not appear. “-Might have left other horcruxes with trusted Death Eaters?”

Regulus frowned. Bellatrix was the Dark Lord’s right-hand witch and no doubt the one he’d expect to have received anything so important. Malfoy… He would not have foreseen that, except perhaps as an honour to Narcissa, Bellatrix’s sister.  Perhaps they both had one. That would mean they knew who had three of the horcruxes. His cousins and him. Oh.

“He didn’t give me one.” Regulus said suddenly, looking up and realising the Headmaster’s thought process.

“Ah.” Dumbledore said, leaning back and with greater respect in his eyes. “Forgive me for asking, but how did you come to find one of, (hm, shall we say Riddle’s to avoid giving you too much of a fright?) horcruxes?”

Regulus reluctantly put the diary down. Tom Marvolo Riddle. A child sired out of wedlock? Adopted out and hence the change in name? Or could one have truly married a lesser halfblood or Merlin forbid, a muggle. Perhaps it was another self-proclaimed title, the Riddle of his heritage.

“Regulus?” Dumbledore prompted, snapping him out of his musings.

“The Dark Lord wanted a House Elf for some important task. I knew it was important because he had only asked from trusted families. I was probably the least trustworthy there because Sirius had run away only a few years beforehand. No one else was so close to a blood traitor by blood and time. I figured I had more to prove and so volunteered Kreacher.” The words seemed strangely ordered in his head as he went through the memory. He felt like that seventeen-year-old boy facing the growing realisation that the man he had dedicated his life to was corrupt and evil. Even worse, that he had destroyed his own being in his belief for this glorious future. The chilling reality of what he was going to do.

Dumbledore said nothing.

“I told Kreacher to obey the Dark Lord and once his mission was done, to come home. Back to me. He did. Half dead, trembling, torn and sick. I tended to him and when he was well enough, asked of what had happened. I surmised the Dark Lord was hiding something of great importance. I wanted to tell everyone of this slight that he had committed against our family. To damage the property of a member of the Sacred Twenty-Eight! I knew he was no longer worthy of leading our cause. But if he had gone to such lengths to protect this… then it would be blind folly to leap in with accusations. It had tugged at me, on a memory. The Dark Lord always boasted about his immortality, that he had defeated Death. I threw myself into studies and realised the two were connected. It was truly abhorrent, and I knew I had to bring him down. What was more, I wanted him to know that it was I that had destroyed his immortality. But I did not want to face his torture. I’ve seen it, I’ve dealt it. I would not suffer it.”

“So, you died retrieving the Horcrux.” Dumbledore finished kindly.

Regulus nodded.

“I assume you’ve been unable to destroy it?”

Regulus stared at the book. Kreacher had spent fifteen years trying. He had not done as much himself, but as his sanity and sense of self returned, he had studied as best he could.

“I could destroy it, if you would like.” Dumbledore offered.

“No. Me.” Regulus snarled, baring his teeth, eyes flashing. Any attempt to return to himself was lost in the sudden surge of emotion that came about from the threat of someone else completing his life’s work. Dumbledore raised a hand.

“Of course, it is only natural that you should want to see this through. I can arrange for a basilisk fang to be brought with me on my next visit.”

“Others?”

“Pardon?”

Regulus frowned and focused on putting thoughts into his head, rather than instincts. He took a slow breath.

“What about the other Horcruxes?”

“You should focus on recovering.”

“No. I’m going to finish what I set out to do.” Regulus growled, low in his chest.

“Perhaps when you are yourself, Regulus.” Dumbledore said. “You’ve been through a lot and it would be unfair to ask more of you.”

“You’re not asking.” His voice was cold.

“I noticed how focused you became on the diary. You could sense it.”

Regulus stilled.

“May I ask, are you currently looking after the horcrux you retrieved until you can destroy it or are you guarding it?”

“Looking after. Will destroy.”

That was a driving force. He had died to make sure it was destroyed and he would do it in this life. But there was something…. Protective. He had felt it for the book. He felt it for the locket.

“You’ve had dark magic cast on you, Regulus. That takes a while to recover from. There is no shame in it.”

“Will destroy it. And every single Horcrux.” He had to cling to that. It was all that he had left.

“Rest, Regulus.” Dumbledore said, more firmly, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You aren’t fighting this war alone.”

“I have to end it. Have to.” He whispered, staring down at the book. It was the only way to survive.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_- _-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

Merlin knew why he was doing this. He could just as well steal Harry from here – Regulus and Dumbledore be damned.  Petunia – she was clearly Lily’s sister – placed her cup carefully down on the saucer, watching him with unashamed judgement. Her husband, Vernon, had more fear in his eyes. Their child was nowhere to be seen. Harry sat awkwardly next to them, staring into his cup of tea to hide the grin on his face.

Sirius took a sip of the tea. It was a decent blend, he could tell that. They’d probably spent more on being the tea than they’d ever spent on Harry, at least in one go. The muggle clothes he wore looked second hand. He didn’t have any accessories that Sirius might have otherwise expected on a young wizard.

“So… will you be taking him?” Petunia asked hesitantly. Sirius pressed his lips together.

“Eventually. Getting custardy is not as easy as I had hoped.”

“But you’re innocent!” Harry protested, his face crumpling although he did his best to hide it.

“I know, but Petunia is your aunt and there are questions about my suitability considering the fact that I did go to prison. Not to mention my brother his going through a rough patch.”

“You have a brother?” Harry asked.

“Uh, he’s called Regulus. I don’t suppose you were really around for that. But remember Dumbledore managed to stop me getting… yeah… and sent off to Saint Mungo’s to examine my head… well turns out I kind of have the information as to where my little brother was. He’d been missing for fifteen years and was kind of in a bad shape for a while. He’d got in with the wrong crowd and now I’m looking after him until he’s more... well, adapted for lack of a better word.” Sirius said, not sure how much he could say. They were trying to keep Regulus story under wraps until they knew more about it and just how safe it was to let it be known.

“We would only be too happy to give you Harry.” Vernon said. “No questions asked. The paperwork can be sorted out later.”

“I don’t mind that you’ve got a brother. I’m sure it’ll be fine. He can’t be worse than Voldemort.” Harry said, enthusiasm in his every being. Merlin, Sirius wanted to bring Harry home. Maybe he could keep Regulus confined to his new room until he was safe.

Sirius took a slow breath. No. Remember his brother’s face. The fear Regulus had of becoming a creature of Voldemort. The look of pure adoration (and surprise) that his brother had whenever Sirius did something just for the pure joy of making Regulus happy.

“He’s not very well. I think it’s best to wait, Harry.” Sirius said, placing a hand on his tiny shoulders. Harry shouldn’t be this skinny. A knife to his heart.

“Perhaps he just needs more company.” Vernon pressed.

“Look, can I talk to Harry about this?” Sirius snapped. “You aren’t making this any easier for either of us.”

“We want him gone.”

“Well, I want to take him with me!”

“Then what’s the problem?”

Sirius clenched his fists and threw himself into the back of the overly flowery chair.

“Look, my brother is not well. It’s nothing infectious but he’s not well enough to deal with guests. Not to mention I’ve got Dumbledore insisting that I’m not capable of taking care of Harry which is nonsense but for some unknown reason, he really seems to favour you. Do you know why, considering you’re such awful muggles?”

“I… I was told I owed my sister.” Petunia sniffed, looking as haughty as certain members of Sirius’ family. “That Harry has to continue having a place in my home.”

She cast a nervous glance towards Vernon and Sirius tapped his fingers against his thigh. There was something more going on and he would have to get down to it.

“Look, I can’t move Harry in this summer but I can probably take him for the Christmas holidays – or some of it depending on Reg. Now I’m hopeful that everything will be sorted by next summer. That doesn’t seem too difficult for you, since you only see Harry during the summer holidays.” Sirius said, crossing his arms.

“And remember, Ron said I can stay the last week of the holidays with his family for the Quid- for the gaming event.” Harry said.

Sirius frowned at the amendment.

“Of course, I expect for the duration that Harry has to stay here, you’ll not require him to hide who he is. I hope you know that Harry is quite the Quidditch player – youngest on the team in a century. You should be very proud and embracing him.”

“We will not tolerate-”

“Because I know some quite beautiful spells that are quite untraceable, if I hear that Harry is being ill-treated. And I will certainly be paying more visits if I don’t regularly hear from Harry, so you better make sure he continues to be allowed to let his owl deliver them.”

Sirius was rewarded with a rather spectacular look of fear that went over the Dursleys. Harry was grinning ear to ear.

“Now, I don’t believe for one second that you don’t have enough money to look after Harry, so I expect him to be more well fed. I will, however, be the one to take Harry shopping for clothes. I’m generous like that.” He said. It was not at all an excuse to see more of the muggle world with someone who actually knew something about it…

“Who do you think you are, coming in here and telling me how to run my house?” Vernon asked, whiskers shaking in outrage. Sirius leaned back.

“Well, I’m Sirius Black. Excellent wizard, if I do say so myself, Godfather to Harry and general all round better-than-you guy.”

Sirius knew he’d already won. They had no magic, they didn’t know how illegal it was to use magic on muggles – no matter how deserving. All they could do was bluster in the hope that some form of social contract would restrain his hand.

“You will take him, next summer?” Petunia asked, her voice tight.

“As soon as I can get permission, I’m taking him. And if it comes to it, I’m certain I can steal him without attracting any attention.” Sirius said, giving a wink to Harry who smiled.

The rest of the day went rather well. He got to talk to Harry more and find out about his interests. It was nice to have Harry more as a person rather than a copy of James. He didn’t have any pictures of Harry as a baby but he had memories and that seemed to mean a lot to the kid. It was difficult though, as Sirius could tell that Harry wanted to get out of here and was being so kindly and understanding. It was a sharp contrast to Regulus and his stubborn hatred. He left with the promise of coming back within the week to go shopping with Harry and back to the greyness that was Grimmauld Place.

[elejahfanfic]

Fanfiction

And so it is Christmas

Part 2

Elijah Mikaelson x reader

ft. Klaroline and tvd lot

_human_no vampires

a/n:There  will be great mad Mikaelson chaos and lots of love…

absolute christmas fluff... ho-ho-ho

_also this just blew into such a long ch_ thanks for reading. xoxo

❄

A day after

Mikaelson Mansion

"I am so happy that you came a few days earlier. Ever since you moved to New York, I hardly see you."  Rebekah said cheerfully.

"I am sorry, but my workload doesn't allow me to be here as often as I wish to." Elijah said.

"I thought that since we moved back to Mystic Falls, it would be closer and you could be here nearly every weekend. It's only an hour by plane."

"It is, but, you forget that I need to get to the airport and then from Richmond here- and that is three extra hours." Elijah said.

"I really don't get why you have to stay there. You can open a practice here. People will need a good lawyer here, too. It's like you don't want to be with us anymore. Ever since father died you - shut down" the blonde complained.

"I have not shut down. We speak every day." Elijah said surprised that Rebekah was giving him a hard time as if he neglected them completely.

"Yes, but it is not the same. Klaus is always somewhere. Kol is impossible to - talk to. You know what he is like. It's lucky I got Stefan."

"You have Stefan and soon you will be Mrs Salvatore and your own home and you will not need any of us." Elijah said.

"Yes, but - still - I know it is terrible to say it, but you are my favourite brother. And I miss you being here."

"I know. I miss all of you, too." Elijah said.

"You would not say this if you are with her everyday, forever blocking the drive way," Kol now got in the dining room, "boring us with her wedding planning yada yada"

"I see nothing has changed here" Elijah said.

"No. Same old." Klaus now said entering the dinning room with his daughter Hope followed by Esther.

"Hope is more mature in her ways than you two, and she is only 12" Esther said directing her look at Kol and Rebekah.

They all sat down now at the big table. Esther looked happy to see  her children and her grandchild together at the table. It was rare that they sat down like this. Only twice a year she would be able to have the pleasure.

"Even though it is not Thanksgiving yet, I would like to give thanks for - having you here, all together. And soon we will have one addition to the family."

Kol now cut in looking at Rebekah, "You're pregnant, that is why you are getting married in a rush."

"I am not," Rebekah replied briskly, "we are getting married because we love each other. What would you know"

"What would I know?" Kol now shot back at his sister obviously pained by the remark."I loved Davina- " 

Klaus, who was sitting next to his younger brother, put his hand on his shoulder, as Kol was about to get up in his strop.

Elijah gave his sister a look that said- this was really uncalled for.

"I am sorry." Rebekah now said looking at Kol tearfully,"I am really sorry."

"You should be." Kol said.

"Enough!" Esther now raised her voice. 

"I am sorry, mother." Kol apologized.

"You two will sit down and find a way to work your behaviour. You are not little children anymore. I will not want to have this repeated again. Am I clear?" Esther now looked at Kol and Rebekah,"Am I clear?"

Both Kol and Rebekah now nodded, apologizing once again.

"Good. Now - let's have breakfast." Esther said turning her look to Klaus, "What times is your plane?"

"Noon." Klaus replied, "We will be back tomorrow at two."

"Can you please put some flowers down to your father's grave as well, for me?"

"Of course"

"Thank you."  Esther curled a tiny warm smile at her son.

The Mikaelsons, same as some of the others, had loads of happy and good times, but they also had their share of tragedy. They were also not perfect. But then again who was.

As everyone left, she took a moment to herself, pulling out an old album.

Are you all right, Mrs Mikaelson?" the butler asked the woman.

"Yes. There will always be a hole in my heart, but seeing everyone happy and getting on so wonderfully in their lives gives me strength. Right. I am going over to the Historical Society to meet the mayor.  I have also asked Elijah to take the boxes to the homeless shelter when he returns from the town. Can you just help him with it?"

"Yes, Ma'am" the butler said and then left her to her memories.

*

A while later

Whitmore Homeless shelter

Y/N finished with her pro bono medical help there, and now spoke to the manager of the shelter about setting up a more permanent medical Centre close by.

"We will not get the funding for it from the City Council" the man replied.

"Ok. Then we will have to do a fundraiser." Y/N said.

"I really haven't got time to organize this."

"I will be more than ready to help." Y/N offered.

"I will help, too." a voice now came from the door, that was left open.

Both the shelter manager and Y/N turned to the man standing at the door.

"I am so sorry that I barged in like that. But I would like to help. I - and my mother had great experience in doing fundraisers like these."

"And you are?" the manager asked.

"Elijah Mikaelson." Y/N replied instead of the

"Yes- I am sorry, but ahm- yesterday I didn't quite catch your name" Elijah fibbed a little.

"Y/N, Dr Y/L/N”

"Nice to meet you, Dr Y/L/N" Elijah extended his hand now.

"Nice to meet you, too." Y/N said still holding his warm hand. As she moved her hand out of his, she felt strange butterflies ruffling up in her stomach. "So, I can really count on you?

"Yes. I don't leave things on empty promise. I am a man of my word." Elijah said."I will leave all my details and you can send me all your proposal ideas."

"All right. I will keep you to your - word." Y/N said thinking how very old- fashioned it sounded.

The manager's assistant now got in and thanked Elijah for the great donation in clothing as well as the check.

"Yes, this is why I came to the office. Here is the check." Elijah presented it to the shelter manager.

"Thank you so much, Mr Mikaelson. Please give your mother my regards."

"I sure will. Thank you." Elijah said."Well, if there is anything else you will need please do not hesitate to ask."

"You can help as at the kitchen then? We are about to serve the early supper. We need a volunteer." Y/N turned to Elijah.

Elijah was caught in the moment, but then nodded."Gladly."

And he followed Y/N to the shelter kitchen.

"So, you are running errands for you mom?"

"Yes, she is very busy. Tomorrow is the big Thanksgiving Ball at Historical Society Rooms and she has a lot still to sort out." Elijah replied."I hope you found a gown?"

"I have." Y/N said."I presume you will be there, too?"

"I will. This is why I came down for. And also to spend some quality time with my family." Elijah replied.

The other two volunteers now came in, one of them being Bonnie, she introduced Elijah to her friend and the other woman, who was one of the cooks.

There was no time to waste on chatting and they now got plating the food and soon serving it as the people started coming in.

"That's Elijah? Kol and Klaus' brother?" Bonnie asked as Elijah went to the tables with some plates.

"Yes. He is so - different" Y/N said looking over with the corner of her eye at Elijah, who in his Armani shirt with his sleeves up talking and joking a bit with some of the guys.

"Klaus always said that he is so serious. The lawyer!" Y/N said.

Seeing a twinkle in her friend's eyes, Bonnie couldn't stop herself and said now teasingly, "If I didn't know better, I'd say you like what you are seeing. More than like?!"

"Shush" Y/N said as she now saw Elijah returning.

Not long after, Kol appeared, as  Bonnie had sent him a message that she would be at the Whitmore homeless shelter. Both brothers looked stunned at one another. To see Elijah with an apron was something he never thought he would see. But it was the same for Elijah, as he thought that Kol wouldn't care about any kind of charitable work. And although Elijah didn't say anything, but the way he looked at his brother surprised to see him there, Kol now burst at his brother. "All of you think that I am some kind of selfish immature loser. But you don't really know who I am. Not really."

"Kol - it is not true. I know that you are good hearted caring person," Elijah said, "why are you snapping at me like that? What is going on?"

Kol went quiet now looking at Bonnie and then at his brother. Apologizing, he now went out. Elijah wanted to go after him, but Bonnie said to let it be and she went after Kol.

Elijah looked at Y/N somewhat clueless.

"I think I know what is going on" Y/N now said.

"You do?"

Y/N nodded, "Let's take 5 minutes break."

They went to the back of the kitchen.

“Coffee?” Y/N offered, to which Elijah nodded as in yes.

"I know it is not my place to say, but - they have been seeing each other for a while now-" she said as she handed him a mug of coffee.

"Your friend Bonnie - is seeing Kol?"

"Yes. Last night, she kind of told him that they should - cool it. And I think your brother is in love."

"Oh," Elijah exclaimed taking a sip of coffee,"now that explains his behaviour earlier today."

"I think she is also in love with him, but - he got this special award for his comics series and they offered him to finish his term in Hunter College in New York."

"He won't go if she tells him that she feels so much more than-?"

"Yeah."

"I didn't know he got this award." Elijah said.

"I don't think he told anyone." Y/N said.

"Huh- Kol"

"Love is - not easy." Y/N said and finished her coffee.

"No, it is not"  Elijah looked at Y/N in a sweet mellow way. She felt like every ounce of her breath was taken from her lungs. Her stomach flipped unexpectedly again, and she didn't understand where this was coming from. It was like he’d cast some kind of compelling spell on her. Elijah also didn't quite get what was happening to him as well. It has been a long while since a woman had stirred everything inside of him. Lost in the gaze, he didn't hear his phone ring, until Y/N said, "Are you going to take that call?"

"Ha? Yes" Elijah snapped quickly out of the sweet haze, took his phone out and swiping the call open- said, "Caroline"

Y/N left him to talk and went to the dining area, trying to steady the butterflies in her stomach.

to be continued

[innittowinit]

Abandoned amusement parks are the best place for young children  (chapter 22)

Fic summary:

Techno, Tommy, Wilbur and Phil have been hanging out at the abandoned amusement park in the woods since they moved in. Techno likes knowing he's definitely alone with his brothers Tommy likes climbing on the old rides Wilbur likes having a place to play his music Phil likes spending time with his younger brothers

That is, until a group of brothers calling themselves the 'dream team' move in down the road. Will the sleepy boys give in and share the park or will they succeed in scaring the new kids off?

Chapter summary:

It's wednesday. Eret was still plauging on their mind's and yet they still had to meet up with the Dream Team

Chapter word count: 2123

AO3

Something just.. wasn’t right.

They had shown up invited this time, had made extra sure they weren’t being threatening (he hadn’t even brought his nerf guns!) and had watched multiple videos on how you're supposed to treat your friends and still, the ‘sleepy bois’ were acting like they didn’t want to be here.

Or maybe it was like 2/4 of the brothers who didn't want to be there. Techno and Wilbur were both acting off, very off. For a while, Dream had panicked that this may have been their fault, that he or his brothers may have done something unintentionally horrible enough to completely destroy the only sembilience of trust they had - but the more he watched them, they seemed more sad than angry, more hurt than annoyed.

The first warning sign had been Wilbur snapping at Dream.

===

While watching Techno play some game about farming on his DS, Wilbur sat braiding a section of his hair. Recently he had been trying to learn from both Niki and various youtube tutorials, the action of doing someone’s hair was strangely relaxing and it often left him a little upset at the fact that he had no sisters. What he did have instead was Techno and -in his opinion- Techno’s hair was far prettier than any of the girl’s in their class.

Braiding got hard and confusing but it calmed him down, the repetitive action felt similar to how he felt while clicking on a fidget toy but slower. It kept his hands busy but he had to keep his mind active to make sure he was keeping it aesthetically pleasing, it was really just a nice way to wind down. Plus! Techno liked it too!

The events of earlier that day still plagued his mind. It hurt so incredibly much to try and accept that someone he had trusted so much would betray them so easily. Was Eret ever their friend? Was it a joke from the beginning? Would there ever be anyone who would want to actually be their friend? It sure as hell didn’t feel like it. Everybody would always say they loved them then leave, just like Eret, just like their parents.

Being with his brother helped though, it reminded him that, despite everything, he had three people who were always going to love him and have his back.

Tommy was always going to be chaotically positive. Phil was always going to be strangely parental. Techno was always going to be his best friend.

As much as he believed that blood was thicker than water, the human body couldn’t survive on it’s blood alone, it needed water too. He had his brothers but friends like Niki were unfortunately far too rare.

The comfort of being alone with his brother was quickly cut short as Dream had approached, clad in a green hoodie and a new mask. It looked hand made, like they had paper mached it around a balloon and drew on the face with a sharpie, there were also a couple stickers stuck to it but they were pretty small and looked like they were from shows that Wilbur hadn’t watched. Still though, he looked happier than the last time they saw him (that wasn’t hard to do though, he had his mask this time.)

“Hey guys” The boy had hummed as he sat down near the twins, pulling his knees up on the bench and holding them close to his chest. “Why’re you alone? We were going to play bulldog in the forest if you want to join in”

Wilbur just stared back at him, talking felt like such a hassle right now, he didn’t even want to deal with it. It was just so exhausting.

“Uhm...so you don’t wanna talk.. That’s fine uh” Dream had spluttered out, clearly not expecting such a non-response from Wilbur who was usually the most eloquent one out of the four brothers. “That’s fine, that’s cool. You don’t need to talk if you dont wanna!”

Wilbur almost felt bad. Almost. It was clear that Dream was making an effort, it was clear he was trying his best, if this had been when they first met Dream would have likely made fun of him for not talking but he had learnt from spending so much time with them that sometimes people just didn’t want to talk. As nice as it was to know he was trying to be helpful, Wilbur really just did not want to talk to anyone right now. In all honesty, he didn’t even want to talk to Techno. All he wanted was to sit silently and braid his brother’s hair.

“So uh” Dream cleared his throat, looking to Techno this time when he finally accepted Wilbur wouldn't be communicating with him. “Do you two wanna play bulldog with us? Phil and Tommy are gonna play”

Techno took one look at Wilbur and shook his head. Personally, he wouldn’t mind playing with them, making some new friends might be nice after everything that had just happened but Wilbur was just very clearly not up for talking to anyone.

Sometimes people were upset, sometimes you just needed some time to strop and get out all the negative emotions. Techno wasn’t in any position to tell Wilbur he couldn’t feel the way he felt.

“Oh? Do you want us to wait until you’re finished with your DS? What’re you playin’?”

Shuffling over on the bench, Dream tried to take a peek at the game, seeing Techno tapping quickly on different buttons as his character farmed some crops. It didn’t look too interesting but hey! He had learnt that he shouldn’t insult people for what they enjoy.

“Jesus fucking Christ Dream!” Wilbur finally snapped, pushing the boy away roughly. Maybe he was being a bit short-tempered and mean, maybe they had specifically set up this day so they wouldn’t end up fighting but god dammit Wilbur was upset and he was absolutely ready to make that everybody else's problem.

“Just go away! We don’t want to play your stupid game!”

It was clear that Dream had been a little upset by what Wilbur had said, staggering back a little and getting up from where he had been sitting. Despite the fact that neither boy could see his face they could somehow still read his expression, maybe because he was overly expressive with his body parts to make up for the covered face.

“Oh um.. Okay I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pressure you”

Techno sighed, giving Dream a sympathetic look as if to say sorry and then giving Wilbur a bit of a stern glance, clearly upset with his brother for getting mad like that.

Wilbur didn’t care.

Techno could furrow his brows all he wanted, Wilbur was mad.

=== The second warning was a passing comment made by Wilbur.

This time, the twins had finally decided to join in with the group, it had been right after everyone else had finished playing Bulldog so they were pretty out of breath, meaning all they were doing was sitting around talking.

Tommy was leading the conversation, hopping around and pointing to all his favourite climbing places, every now and then he’d grab someone by the hand and tug them up to show them something. It felt like he really just could not be tired out. Even so, the boy was good at reading people, it wouldn’t be surprising if he was acting extra energetic because he had noticed his big brothers being upset and wanted to give them the chance to pull back from talking if they felt like it. He was young, yes, but out of all four brothers he was probably the one who was best at understanding his own emotions.

“So over there is the big dipper!” He was jumping up and down as he pointed to a large blue drop tower that was partially under the ground. “It goes up super high but then it goes into this big pit! Sometimes I like to climb to the top and sit there!”

Phil’s eyes went wide “Tommy you what?!”

George wasn’t too interested in this explanation of the rides, if he was being honest, he was just sleepy from doing so much exercise after already walking around all day at school. The boy flopped backwards into the dirt, taking off his sunglasses and folding them besides him as he closed his eyes.

It felt nice to just lay in the sun, his brothers teased him a lot for always being so sleepy (it wasn’t uncommon that he would miss appointments or commitments because he hadn’t set an alarm) but it was just so nice and so relaxing to just ignore the outside world for a moment and think. Sometimes he felt like he’d probably be good at meditating but then again his brother’s would absolutely not leave him to chill out long enough for that.

He had been expecting to be either left alone to doze off in the sun, or for one of his brother’s to tug him up and make him stay awake, what he was not expecting was for Wilbur and Techno to join him in laying down.

“The sun is nice today” Techno had mumbled as he closed his eyes, clearly getting a little more comfortable with the boys than he had been previously.

Understandably, George was shocked to hear him talking but he decided that maybe it would help if he didn’t bring attention to it and make it a big deal, he knew Dream was only able to show his face in their house if everyone made sure not to comment on his birthmark, if they did the mask was always brought back out.

“Yeah..it’s nice but it makes me tired.”

Wilbur nodded,George was right a lot of the time; it felt light and warm, unlike the humid air that had caused him to snap earlier. Honestly he felt a little bad about it, he had obviously hurt Dream and he didn’t even apologise. Phil would surely be disappointed in him if he heard about what happened.

“I don't understand why you guys are trying to be our friends” Wilbur confessed, scooching up a little closer to Techno so he could hold his hand. “I understand liking Phil and Tommy but why us? Nobody likes us. Sometimes I wish you would stop trying, I already know how this is gonna end”

Wilbur rubbed at his eyes with his free hand but it wasn’t like the other two could tell since they had their eyes closed thankfully. George wanted to object, to tell them that they did like them and that this wasn’t going to end how he thought it would but he couldn’t bring himself to say it. He didn’t know what Wil meant when he said how it would end and it wasn’t like he could just tell them they were wrong about their previous experiences with people. He ended up pondering what he could say for so long that by the time he had a plan laid out in his mind it had been too long to reply and he had already unknowingly made the decision to just stay quiet.

Dream had heard him though. Dream had seen him rubbing at his eyes. Dream had noticed how he held onto Techno before talking about it.

Something was definitely wrong.

===

Eventually Dream decided that enough was enough.

Today was the day when they would finally talk it out, there should be no upset, no turmoil, no arguments, and yet here they were, upset.

At first, he had been tempted to just call them out in front of everyone but under better thought he realised that was most likely a very very bad idea. He wanted to help, not make things worse.

Instead, he just waited for Tommy to drag his brothers and Phil over to the ‘white house’, saying he had to show them around. It seemed like Techno and Wilbur were planning on staying back so really it was the perfect time to talk to them about it.

Once everyone else had left and was out of ear-shot, Dream made his way back over to the boys, absolutely ready to get yelled at again (which really he didn’t mind if it helped Wilbur feel better). This time though, he didn’t sit down; he just stood in front of them and crossed his arms, wanting them to know he was being serious.

“Wilbur. You’re obviously upset, okay? I understand if you’re mad we’re in your park and we’ll leave if you want us to but can you please just talk to us first?”

Wilbur sighed and rested his head on Techno’s shoulder.

Something wasn't right.

[inessencedevided]

The Untamed, episode 45 - watching notes

I'm at this stage of fandom rn where it's really hard to concentrate on anything else 😅

Every song I listen to gets dissected for how it relates to wangxian

I need to concentrate on my thesis but instead I'm pondering how the untamed raises questions about collectivism vs individualism and how my western perception of that might differ greatly from a native chinese person or even the author's intention

Can't I just write my thesis about THAT?

Alas, I digress ...

Back to our regular programming :D

Last time one Sophie watches the untamed wwx went all Sherlock on us and used his formidable skills of deduction to expose Backpfeifengesicht's plan of killing everyone and blaming it on wwx

I've heard from several people that the next few episodes are their favourites, so no high expectations at all :D

Nobody wipes the blood on their chins away. Might be about the aesthetic

I adore detective-duo-wangxian so much!! Especially because wwx does 99% of the talking but then lwj will chime in with a single word and it's 100% devastating :D

If anyone knows any well written case-fics for these two, please, I need recs! (For after the show)

Backpfeifengesicht makes good one point and that is that jgy already is at the top of the cultivation world. So what does he gain from all this?

Or is it simply that he's afraid of wwx because he's a rebel and might act against him? (Don't answer that. I wanna find out through the show ;))

Wwx just casually revealed that he's been to cloud recess and that he handles went to the restricted section forbidden chamber. What will you do about, Lan Qiren? Huh? 😂

Oooh! Backpfeifengesicht is the ghosted faced man! I thought it was Jiggy himself!!! 😱

That makes way more sense though!

Lan Sizhui! Jin Ling! Oh you brave boys! 😭

Someone hold me 😭

But why does he not take zidian now? He's done so before!

"You little fool!" Is "I love you" in Jiang-Cheng-speak :D

"We're done for! What can we do??" - wwx *strips*

Sorry

Bahahaha 😂😂😂

I just burst out laughing waaay to loudly for the fact that I've got people sleeping in the room next to mine

But look at Lan Qiren when he sees wwx strop to reveal anat is probably his nephew's undershirt 😂😂😂

He's probably questioning every decision that's let him to this point :D

This is completely inconsequential,but I couldn't keep quiet about it anymore because I every time he makes this motion, it always sends a shiver down my spine!!! Notice that wwx (or rather Xiao Zhan) is one of these people whose fingers bend in the opposite direction??? I know it's just a normal thing some people can do, but I can't watch it!! It makes my fingers hurt just looking at it 🙈🙈🙈

Is he turning himself into a demon lure flag?? 😱

Lan Jingyi 🥺🥺🥺

Also does wwx now just transfer his self-sacrificing tendencies to lwj?

Nothing is as hot as these two together in a fight scene

Jiang Cheng doesn't want to leave them behind. He does care! :') he just never unlearned how to unravel his love from his anger

Sizhui running up to greet his dads :')

Look at them! I'm soft guys 💔

He called him Yuan!! 😭😭😭

So this is it. Any doubts I ever had about Sizhui's identity are gone

Will he finally recognize him??

Why don't you say anything lwj? This one time, I beg you!!

Sect Leader Yao still at his gossip shit even 16 years later 🙄

Lam sizhyi is seasick! Why is this so cute! 😭

Oh Wen Ning!! He recognized A-Yuan? Right?

I want to hug Lan Sizhui for his openness and kindness towards everyone he meets, no matter their status or what other people say about them! (Wen Ning now or who he thought was Mo Xuanyu the supposed mad-man) and I wanna hug lan Wangji right after for raising him to be like this :')

Oh Wen Ning! 😭

That's how I'd look at Sizhui, too, if I met him - poor unadulterated wonder :')

And just think about what that means for Wen Ning! He's not the last of the Wens! All their fight wasn't for nothing. This child, their legacy, survived 😭😭😭

"Can I call you A-Yuan" "Of Course." God I'm gonna burst into tears 😭

I'm actually bursting into tears!!

Isn't this the dream of anyone who has ever lost someone? :')

"He's like a brother and father to me" :')

And he raised him from when he was 4 or 5? So ... A-Yuan was about 2 when the Wens died? Right? Then 5 would fit with lwj's 3 year isolation

Ob god, it's the butterfly-toy!!! 😭😭😭

Wen Nings smiling through his tears! I can't! 😭💔And he's got the one from the market!

Aww, wax isn't wearing the white undergarment anymore. Too bad

Oh poor Jin Ling ...

So much grieve that he could probably never process. There so many lost kids in this story, hurt by things they had no control over 😔

I mean, I get it. That's the person who killed his parents (without being in control, but he doesnt know that) and everyone is just talking to him as if it's normal and that didn't happen. But he can't forget,but he doesnt really understand either and he has no outlet. Of course he'd just ... crash 😥

And who would have thought I'd ever try at a flashback of Jin Zixuan's death :(

For once, it'd be nice if the adults actually acted like the parent figures they're supposed to be and explain things to their children 🤦‍♀️

I'm so thankful though, that no one even thinks of scolding him for crying. Jismg Cheng only asked who it was that made him cry (and looks like he'll kick their ass). Generally, thus show has a very healthy attitude towards tears. Most characters cry when they are faced with tragedy, regardless of gender. Men being allowed to have appropriate reactions to grieve (instead of a single men tear or just punching things) is really nice to see

Oh Yao dude whose courtesy name I can't remember, shut up!

Thanks Ouyang Zizhen! You get me

I live for these children standing up to their elders

Meanwhile Nie Huaisang is just on the sidelines, enjoying the show :D never change!

The Lotus Pier theme song alone is making me cry rn 😢

Why can't wen Ning come in?

Oh Sizhui!

He many times do you want to make me cry happy tears today?? :')

Little turnip-baby ❤

But why doesn't lwj say anything ??? 😭

Lan Wangji raised A-Yuan smong a bunch of rabbits??? 😭

Now he's a turnip baby with a taste for carrots, how cute is that? :')

Holy shit, wwx and lwj are really joined at the hip these days of lwj won't enter the hall if wwx isn't allowed to :D

Lwj 😑 "no misbehaviour"

Someone. Knows. Their. Husband.

Okay sorry, but as painful as these cuts must have been and yes, while you do see scars on this prostitute's face, they in no way warrant these horrified gasps as of they had all seen a monster 🙄

Xue yang. Fancy seeing you here in this not at all disturbing sub-plot 😬

Okay that's creepy. That's really creepy

Shouldn't Jin Guangyao have a bit more compassion for these women?

On the other hand, he was born to menacingly stand behind a curtain 🤷‍♀️

W. T. F. ????

Jin Guangshan??? o___O

That's the most skin we've ever seen on this show and it's in a scene like THIS? 😬

THIS IS HOW JIN GUANGSHAN DIED? 😱😱😱

How?

How can you die from sex?

And then jgy made them keep going?

UGH

These poor women :/

So there's someone who set her free on purpose, right?

Bicao has really interesting eyes!

Oh wait, took me some time to catch up. This is about Quin Su and why she killed herself, right?

WHAT??

They were siblings o_O

They just went full game of thrones on this ...

Hey Jin Guangshan, screw you for raping that woman

Wait, is that why jgy had him die like THAT?

I'm so confused about how that happened btw

But why would Jin Guangyao merry quin su anyway? Was this some kind of political marriage that he couldn't call off?

This episode answered some of my questions but raised about a dozen more 😅

@sweetlittlevampire @fandom-glazed @elenirlachlagos @allhailthedramallama @luckymoony @kyrrahbird @i-love-him-on-purpose

5 episodes to go. I'm both happy because I can't wait to brows the untamed tag without looking for spoilers and extremely sad 🥺

Right now I'm planning to watch one episode each day until friday and then watch the last two on Saturday, hopefully quite early, so I can spend the rest of the day crying my eyes out over it, without having to worry about such trivial things as being a functioning adult or a responsible student 😅

[britishassistant]

But I Like One Piece (1)

She was twenty when she died.

She’d just graduated with a double first in Literature and Preservation from Exeter. She’d been accepted into a prestigious master’s school in London.

She’d moved into a basement flat with her best friend and a couple of his friends. She’d been glad to escape her childhood house, where her mum and dad traded vicious words over who was getting how much in the divorce.

She’d promised her brother she’d get him out too, once she had a stable place that the courts would approve of. She had been due to interview for a job at a big bookstore chain next week.

And then someone had broken in while her flatmates were out. She shouldn’t have grabbed the knife. That just made the armed man freak out.

The last thing she remembered was a bang, and the blubbered words “I didn’t mean to!”

She wakes up as a baby.

She waves her arms around and cries as an unfamiliar lady with brown hair and brown eyes bends down over her crib, hushing her with more urgency than is really warranted.

Rain hammers down outside and thunder rumbles directly overhead.

Then a man with blue hair and grey eyes arrives. He stinks of copper, and that makes her wail harder.

The man and woman confer, words too fast for her to understand.

Then the man gently presses a cloth which smells chemical and awful to her face, hushing and looking at her with sad eyes while the woman strokes her head.

She struggles, but eventually swirling red circles dance before her eyes and she succumbs to sleep.

She grows, and learns that she is not anywhere remotely like her home anymore.

She looks in mirrors and sees grey eyes like the man’s, brown hair like the woman’s, hair too straight, eyes too angular, skin too pale.

Her new name is Ketsugi Mayu. The woman’s name is Ketsugi Chie, the man’s is Ketsugi Jirou.

They live in a little house, on the outskirts of a village that’s nothing like the village she previously grew up in. It’s too big, too bustling, with large compounds with symbols decorating the exteriors and brightly painted buildings, flat roofs alternating with asian-style pagodas.

Faces carved into a mountainside like a bastardization of Mount Rushmore. Huge trees everywhere, though she couldn’t tell you the type. She never was any good at biology.

Her “parents” escaped to this village from the rainy place before. Both of them work, but the woman takes her with her, or comes back first.

She gets the feeling their neighbors don’t like them very much.

Despite the electricity for lights and plumbing and cooking, there are not electronic communication devices, not like she knew them. Photography, but no video or animation.

Calculators and computers are unheard of, abacus and notebooks in their place.

The food is good though. Fresh and flavorsome, with meals that are usually served in what she mentally called “plate-2-bowls” style, a bowl of rice, a bowl of soup, and a meat or vegetable dish in the center.

The woman she is supposed to call her “mother” scolded her for ages the first time she dumped the rice out of the bowl onto the plate and tried to eat it that way.

The man she is supposed to call her “father” just laughed and said how lucky they were to have a daughter who would eat everything given to her.

And she did. Even if she doesn’t like the flavors, she eats it all and leaves no scraps.

One Piece taught her that those who waste food are scum, after all. She’ll never learn how the series ended now, so she does her best to live up to the ideals of her favorite characters in its place.

She probably should’ve seen it coming in the end.

The story she was read at bedtime was called “The Tale of the Utterly Gutsy Shinobi”. There were constantly people dressed in dark clothes jumping across the roofs.

There were stalls in the market that sold throwing knives and stars and japanese swords.

But she didn’t realize exactly what world she’d been reincarnated into until she sees a little boy around her age, with blonde hair and blue eyes and three familiar lines like whisker marks across each cheek.

He’s racing away from a severe woman dripping with orange paint, cackling even as she screams, “GET BACK HERE NARUTO, YOU LITTLE DEMON!!”

She’s four, so she promptly bursts into tears and remains in a strop for the rest of the week.

Naruto doesn’t have food.

It’s dumb and doesn’t involve her and she shouldn’t care because she never even read this series because it was stupid and sexist and dumb and pirates will always be better than ninjas no matter what stupid morons on the internet who have no interpersonal relationships say—

But Naruto doesn’t have food.

She saw the food vendors at the market slap away his money, yell at him for trying to steal from them, chase him away from their stalls with rotten produce.

And he goes away empty handed.

Every. Damn. Time.

Sanji wouldn’t let him go empty handed.

Fuck.

She buys three lunch boxes and an “easy cook recipes” book from a lady who coos at her.

She buys extra rice and ingredients so that she doesn’t use up her “family’s” food.

She decides on a sweeter, more protein-focused meal for breakfast, and presses rashers of bacon and scrambled eggs between slices of crusty bread, filling the compartments with orange slices and strawberries and a plain yogurt.

For lunch she tries and fails to recreate Ketsugi Chie’s perfectly triangular rice balls filled with salmon, but consoles herself that the cucumber and seaweed salad turned out okay, To make up for it, she sticks a packet of gummies in the dessert bit.

She shadowed him the evening before, and so wakes up obscenely early, tugging on the clothes she wore yesterday.

She deposits the food outside his door, checks the sticky notes with “BREAKFAST” and “LUNCH” on them are secure.

Then she raps on the door with all the power her little fists can muster and bolts.

She’s about halfway down the street when she hears the overexcited whoops and fights to keep a smile off her face.

That night, when she comes bearing a thermos filled with miso soup and a box with rice, baked salmon with mushrooms, and dango, the other two are stacked neatly outside the door, licked clean.

She deposits dinner, grabs the other boxes, knocks again, and bolts so she can make curfew.

Here’s her routine.

She goes to bed and falls asleep instantly after preparing that boy’s breakfast and lunch.

She wakes up early and runs through the village while the streets are still asleep and deposits his food, collecting his dinner box and the feedback sheet, knocks and goes, avoiding any traps he’s set up to try and catch her on his endless quest for her identity.

They’re harmless, more intended to snare rather than hurt, and she’s gotten good at dodging.

She gets home in time for her “parents” to wake up, washes up the box while they shower, and goes upstairs to get ready for the day.

Ketsugi Jirou makes her run through katas before breakfast. Sometimes he lets her practice with the wooden sword he carries, and laughs when she falls over, kissing her bruises.

Ketsugi Chie serves breakfast and corrects her table manners and posture. After Jirou has kissed them both and left, she is given lessons in calligraphy and etiquette.

Sometimes Ketsugi Chie takes her along to her job at a tearoom, and she has to observe as her “mother” elegantly serves the patrons and makes polite conversation.

Sometimes she’s left to clean the house and study the books on the history of her family. There are many, but more are missing, references they have no source for.

At lunchtime, she reviews the feedback sheet, making notes of what worked and what didn’t.

She’s supposed to play outside after lunch, so she runs laps. Once Ketsugi Chie’s shift is over, the woman either collects her from home or goes with her straight to the market for food.

She begins making Naruto’s portion the moment groceries are put away, serves it hot and runs it over. She picks up the empty lunch boxes and paper, deposits the dinner, knocks, and runs away.

She eats dinner with her “mother” and “father”. Jirou quizzes her on what she’s learned.

After dinner she washes up the dishes and makes tomorrow’s lunch and breakfast while her parents tell her a bedtime story.

Then she cleans up after herself, and goes to bed, falling asleep instantly.

It’d be nice if this could last.

So of course, the next time she deposits breakfast and lunch, an adult dressed in black with a white mask tackles her to the ground.

She barely avoids spilling the food, clutching it to her chest with one arm as the other is twisted viciously behind her back.

She screams, tries to kick out, but her legs are too little, she can’t hurt the bastard—

The lunchboxes creak ominously under her.

“Who sent you?!” The adult hisses—there’s no way that’s not a man, not with that baritone— “Drop the henge and tell me, or I’ll—”

Something twangs.

A mass of rope drops onto them, followed by chalk dust.

“HAH!” Comes a much higher-pitched yell. “I told you I’d get ‘em, believe it, I told—wait, what the heck?! Jiji, mask-guy’s hurtin’ my friend!”

The click of a cane and the sound of an old man’s voice. “Hound-san.”

The pressure on her arm lessens and the adult gets up, though he doesn’t let go of her. She wheezes, feeling her eyes watering now she can breathe properly.

She hiccups once. Twice. Bursts into floods of noisy tears.

A blurry figure of orange comes into her view. “Hey, hey don’t cry, don’t cry! It’s okay, mask-guy won’t hurt you anymore, Jiji won’t let him, believe it! Yo-you’re the one bringin’ me the food, right? It tastes really good, believe it! M-my name’s Naruto, wh-what’s y-yours? Plea-please don’t—”

The blur of orange begins crying as well.

“Oh dear.” The old man sighs.

The old man takes them to the tower in the center of the village, drawing curious stares at the sight of two wailing children, one bleached white by chalk dust, following him.

The tower is scary. It reminds her of government buildings, with lots of people in green or grey jackets or white masks moving from one place to the next like fire ants, ready to turn and bite intruders to their nest at a moment’s notice.

She doesn’t work out who the queen ant is until the old man sits behind the big desk in the room at the top of the tower, and another mask brings her and Naruto water at his gesture.

“Now, let’s get to the bottom of this, shall we?” Says the old man, smiling genteelly.

A shiver goes down her spine.

The questions should be easy. What’s her name, how old is she, where does she live, who are her parents, where do they work, does she have any siblings, what are her hobbies.

But her tongue is stuck to the top of her mouth and when she tries to speak, she just makes a pathetic little croaking sound, no matter how much water she swallows.

The man who hurt her gets more and more tense with every failed answer.

The old man just looks sadder, like she’s failing a test, like he’s going to let the mask hurt her again—

Naruto asks, “Can you make ramen?”

She swallows. “I—I’ve never had it. I don’t know the ingredients. Is, is it like miso?”

“It’s WAY better than miso, believe it!” Naruto yells. “It’s got noodles and green onions and fish cakes and pork and tofu and chicken and fish and seaweed, and sometimes the broth can taste like miso but better and sometimes it can be spicy and Ichiraku’s is the best, and I’ll take you there so you can have some, believe it!”

She frowns. “How can it have pork and chicken and fish? That doesn’t work. Those meats go with different flavors—like chicken katsu and pork katsu are served with different toppings.”

He blows a raspberry. “They’re not all in the same bowl at one time! There’s different types.”

Her mind ticks over the possibilities. “...So a dashi broth for miso could work? What type of flour are the noodles?”

He shrugs. “I’unno. There’s different types?”

“Of course there are!” And she tells him about wheat vs buckwheat vs rye vs rice flour, and how flour mixed with water can serve as food in a pinch but isn’t sustainable for him because he’s malnourished—

“I’m not mal-no-ished, believe it!” Naruto protests.

She scoffs. “Don’t be stupid. Look, try to touch your thumb and pointer finger around your wrist.”

He looks at her warily, but does as she says easily. There’s enough space between his hand and his wrist that she could wriggle her little finger in there, if she tried.

“See?” She says, holding up her own wrist where her thumb can’t quite reach her finger. “You’re too skinny, because you don’t eat enough. You need to bulk up, and eat to get your vitamins, or you’ll grow up weak and feeble.”

The boy pouts. “S’not my fault the stupid jerkwads in the market won’t sell to me.” He grumbles.

“No, it isn’t.” She replies. “But they sell to me. And those who let people go hungry are scum.”

There’s a wounded noise. She looks up at the forgotten adults, tensing again.

The masked man has vanished. The old man just looks tired, but also...happy?

The old man walks her and Naruto home, and she glimpses many more white masks in the trees. The idea that any one could hurt her at any time has her trembling, fists clenched.

“What’s your name, anyway?” Naruto asks, clutching his lunchboxes close.

“Mayu.” She replies after a moment’s hesitation. “Ketsugi Mayu. I’m five and ten months.”

“I’m Uzumaki Naruto and I’m six, believe it!” He cheers. “Imma be the Hokage one day and take over from Jiji, believe it!”

She frowns up at the old man. “What’s a hokage?”

He laughs. “It’s the ninja entrusted with the safety of the village and all those within. The Hokage specifically is the leader of this Village Hidden in the Leaves, Konoha.”

She looks around.

“This place is way too big to be a village, no matter how you look at it.”

Her parents burst out the door just as they arrive at her house, her father clutching his bokken, her mother still in nightclothes.

They blanch when they see her, the woman reaching out with an abortive hand.

The Hokage bows to them. “Ketsugi-san.” He says. “May I congratulate you on raising such a fine daughter?”

Ketsugi Jirou bows hesitantly back, eyes not leaving her. He has to press a hand to Chie’s shoulder to get her to do the same. “You honor us, Hokage-sama.”

The Hokage smiles and gently pushes her. She totters forward and is swiftly captured in a crushing hug, both adults muttering “Mayu, Mayu.” Like she’ll disappear if they let go.

Her eyes begin watering again, because she’s escaped. She’s safe. For now.

“Otou-sama.” She whimpers. “Okaa-sama.”

She mentally apologizes to her parents in her past life, and the brother she left behind. In their memory, her new family will remain “Otou” and “Okaa”, never “Mummy” and “Daddy”.

“OI, MAYU-CHAN!!”

She half-turns in the hug, sees Naruto and the Hokage some distance away.

“COME GET RAMEN WITH ME TOMORROW!! ICHIRAKU'S IS THE BEST, BELIEVE IT!!” He yells, with far too much volume.

She sniffles. There’s something wrong with Naruto. He lives alone and borderline starves, but the ruler of this village visits him enough that he calls the man “jiji”. People in the street call him “demon” and “monster” openly, but the masked man attacked her for approaching him.

The smart thing to do would be turn him down politely. Thank you, but no thank you. She’s his food provider, she’s not under any obligation to be his friend.

So, of course, she yells back, “EAT YOUR FOOD AND I'LL BE THERE!”

He pumps his fist and whoops, cheering loudly as the Hokage smiles and guides him away.

Mayu Ketsugi and her parents tense as the accusing, silent stares pierce them.

The neighbors never liked them much anyway.

[jet-playin-around]

When You Know

Potter was up to something. Sure, that sounds rich coming from me, but I knew it. And I was right you know, so you can just stop laughing at me. He took to sneaking out of his own blasted house every blasted night, then acted like nothing happened the next day. 

Okay, no, I didn't actually have the right to complain. I was a guest in his house; it's not like we're anything more than friends - and even that would have been pushing it. But it irked me.

He doesn't trust me, after all this time. After working together for years. 

Of course, knowing Potter, I thought to myself ‘he's probably just feeding homeless puppies or nursing sick children.’ Orphans, I mean… Unless random people let him into their homes to- 

Fuck me, they probably do. Bloody saint.

Or, you know, maybe he was fucking someone. I didn't like to think about it, but it was a definite possibility. He's a man, after all… A virile... fit man. And there I was, cramping his style. Encroaching on his territory. It could have been something he did on a regular basis, for all I knew. But then, why not tell me?

Whatever. It's fine. It's not like I wanted anything from him. Potter offered to let me stay with him while my flat was being renovated. I certainly wasn't hoping to use the opportunity to get an eyeful of Potter in his natural habitat. It's not like I'm so bloody frustrated with how dense he is that I've taken to wanking in the loo during my lunch break after he looks at me for too long, with his intense green eyes and his long, dark lashes. That darkening of his cheeks, implying that he knows just what he's doing to my skin, to my cock. 

No, I did not break my plumbing just for such an opportunity. I don't want my flat to smell like the toilet at a skeezy club, thank you. 

But any thoughts I could have entertained about taking full advantage of the opportunity I wasn't looking for flew right out the window when he fucking disappeared that first night. It's been two weeks now, and he's still doing it every other night or so. He waits till he thinks I'm asleep, then leaves. Through the front door, like some Muggle. Yesterday, I watched him walk down Grimmauld Place like he didn't know how to Apparate or Floo… It makes no sense. 

Tonight, though, I was ready. I found Potter’s Invisibility Cloak last night and stashed it in the bedroom he lent me. All I had to do was follow him. Assuming he wouldn’t Apparate from farther away - which would be ridiculous, frankly - finding out what was going on should have been a piece of cake. 

He didn’t Apparate, the wanker. He kept walking. Fucking prat. I am not in shape for something like that, even with Auror training and frequent casework. We don't go gallivanting through Muggle London, for fuck’s sake. We Apparate to the necessary sites and back. We throw spells and curses, not punches. The most active we get is dodging enemy fire, and that generally consists of a handy Pprotego or two. 

After at least a mile, maybe two, we entered a shopping district, houses and gardens giving way to shops with little flats above them - all closed by now. And Potter kept walking. I was thankful for the Invisibility Cloak at that point. I'm sure I looked positively frightful, never mind that the Ccloak likely didn’t help matters. I shudder to think of the state of my hair under that thing… 

We passed a Tesco, then a darkened petrol station, and a plethora of other shops before Potter slowed, finally stopping outside of a brightly lit picture window. Inside, a group of equally bright patrons were laughing heartily, shoving at each other and tossing their heads back with it. A small smile spread on Potter’s face and widened when one of the group caught sight of him and waved him into what appeared to be an all night café. 

“What took you so long, Potter?” the waver demanded when we approached the table, standing to embrace him. 

It took me a moment to realise that I had no idea whether this was a man or a woman… They wore a loose, sleeveless shirt and sagging jeansdenims, showing off lightly muscled arms as well as numerous tattoos and the worn waistband of faded boxers. Their hair was cut short on the sides but a bit longer on top, and a streak of blue trailed from the center of their cowlick to a flourish in the front, just above their brow. 

Around the table, the others were rising to greet Potter with varying degrees of warmth and excitement, but all seemed genuinely pleased to see him. When he sat, a slim man with long sleeves that seemed to be unattached to anything promptly dropped himself into Potter’s lap, winding long arms around his neck, and tossed his head as if to remove an annoying strand of hair from his face - which was absurd since every single sandy lock he had was plastered to his scalp - and then laid his head on Potter’s shoulder and simpered. 

“I was beginning to think you wouldn't come,” he whinged. 

“Why wouldn't I come?” Potter laughed, bringing a hand up to rub at the man's back, and I cringed. “It's Thursday, isn't it? I always come on Thursday.”

“Unless you're out of town…” the man pouted. 

“Unless I'm out of town,” Potter conceded. 

Was that the kind of man he wanted? Someone who jumped up when he entered the room? Who curled into him like a puppy? Who cared if he was gone and catered to his ego? Well, I would never be that man. Could never be that man. I've given myself up before and I'll never do it again. 

Not that I even want to, of course. I don't want to keep Potter; I just want to fuck him. Stifling a groan of abject disgust, I began to round the table, looking closely at each member of this odd little group. They all looked like some kind of exotic bird or animal, with bright coloured clothes and hair, synthetic jewelry and makeup. Was anything about them real? 

“So, Harry,” a woman with feathers hanging from the thick cords of her hair and what appeared to be a bed sheet wrapped around her chest began, leaning closer and setting an oversized coffee mug on the table. “How's the flatmate situation going?” 

I froze halfway around the table, pausing in my examination of a dark man with bright red hair. Shit. My eyes flew to Potter, whose face was screwed up in frustration. 

“It's still shit,” he complained, and the man in his lap tightened his hold. “He's just… He's always there, you know? And I can't do anything about it.”

“You could make him go away,” the man pouted. 

“Quiet Marcus,” red hair admonished in a startling baritone. I’m not ashamed to admit I jumped a little. “Harry, why don't you just talk to him?”

“No! No, I- I really don't think that's a good idea.” Potter looked nervous, his arms coming up to encircle ‘Marcus,’ much to the man's obvious delight. Potter didn’t seem to notice though, and snorted. “We have a history, I’ve told you. He’d sooner he-er hit me than- just… no.”

Hit him? That was a bit harsh. I mean, does Potter think we’re still in Hogwarts? Clearly, I’d hex him, right? Right?

Oh…

Fucking hell! He’s confiding in Muggles about how he wants to have me out? Well, shit. Merlin, he wants to bring his little boyfriend home after all, doesn’t he? Fine. Fine! If he wants me gone, I’m gone.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to finish packing.

-

I cringed when the café door crashed closed and my friends looked around nervously. 

“What was that?” Marcus demanded, clearly spooked. 

“Just the wind,” Trevor scoffed in that sultry tone of his, red curls glinting in the bright lights of the café. 

“There's not been any wind all night,” Sarah countered. Marcus climbed out of my lap - no, I wasn't dating him. Draco's an arse, Marcus wasn't remotely my type - and settled himself at her side. Sarah and Marcus, though, they were like a pair of children; easily spooked and liable to feed off each other in situations like that. I always wondered what they'd do if they knew vampires and werewolves and ghosts were real? 

But that wasn't what slammed the door, nor was it the wind. Just a nosy wizard with a hot temper and my bloody Invisibility Cloak. The conversation waiting for me at home would not be a pleasant one. I could get a head start, go back before Draco had a chance to work himself into a right strop, but… well, he’d followed me into Muggle London, hadn’t he? I could let him stew for a while.

So I turned back to my friends and settled into a night of gossip and philosophy, same as usual - I went to that café as often as I could when I wasn’t away on a mission. And it was a lovely evening, as they usually were. Still, when it was over and everyone had given me a hug or an air kiss, I slipped into a nearby alley and Apparated home rather than taking my customary walk. I’m not heartless.

And you know what he did? He switched on every bleeding light in the house! I had to search into every room leading up to his bedroom. And where else would he be? It wasn't as if he spent his time at Grimmauld Place anywhere else. Although, finding him on the floor in a pile of his own clothing and bedding while shouting at the fireplace was a bit of a surprise. As was the face watching him nervously from within the flickering emerald flames. 

“-him, you wretch! You know as well as I that he-” 

“Everything okay, Hermione?” I interrupted as calmly as I could manage. It didn't matter how crazy I was about the prickly bastard, no one talks to Hermione that way. 

“Oh, Harry!” Heaving a relieved sigh, Hermione’s face cleared even as Draco's shoulders stiffened. “The alarm on your secondary wards sounded and Draco was the only one here. He said nothing happened, but-” 

“Sod off, Granger,” Draco ordered, sulking in his makeshift nest in front of the fire. 

“But,” she said again, louder, and crossed her arms over her paisley dressing gown. “He's clearly upset.”

Now, that took me off guard. I glanced back to Draco, who still hadn't turned to face me, taking in his drawn shoulders and trembling edges. One real thought settled in my mind in that moment: Well fuck. 

I cleared my throat and turned back to the fire. “Thank you, Hermione. I'll take care of it.”

“Yes, well,” she sniffed, her gaze sliding back to Draco for a moment, concern in her shadowy eyes. “See that you do.”

When she was gone, though, I still stood there, unsure what to do next. Silence stretched for long minutes before Draco finally drew a ragged breath and turned where he sat. He didn't look at me so much as he looked at a spot just to my side, but he spoke and the words sent the air whooshing from my lungs. I don't know where it went, I didn't leave my mouth or nose, there was no sound, but I felt like I was drowning. 

“I'm just sorting my things. I'll be gone by tomorrow, noon.” His voice carried that posh drawl I hated so much in school, the one that was endlessly distracting when he used it at the Ministry but, used now, said he was drawing a distinct line between us before he even left. 

Of course, I was being ridiculous. All I had of him was a hope, he wasn't mine. He could leave if he wanted to. So I swallowed once, twice to clear my throat, then nodded. 

“Okay. You- you've found somewhere else to stay until your flat is-” 

“I'll go to the Manor,” he interrupted, turning back to the pile around him. “I don't want to burden you any further.”

“He's clearly upset.” Hermione’s words echoed in my head. 

Without giving myself time to think, I stepped further into the room. “You aren't a burden. Listen, Draco- you don't have to go, can't we talk about this?” 

“I think you've said enough tonight,” Draco sniffed.

“What?” 

“Is that what you do?” His head snapped back, his raging storm clouds swirling around the dark centre as he glared at me, waiting for an answer I didn't have. 

“What are you talking about, Draco?” 

“When you disappear every night! You sneak away to complain about me to your Muggle fanclub? You didn't have to bring me here! I could have gone to the Manor and -” 

“This is about my friends?” Somehow, Draco was standing and I think I was shouting. “Draco, I've gone out to visit them for years, it has nothing to do with you!” 

“That's not how it sounded. ‘He's always there!’” he mimicked, whinging to exaggerate the annoyance I never used. “But it's okay, Potter. You can make me go away. See? I'm going!”

My mind was reeling, I'm pretty sure my mouth was hanging open, and all I could do was stare while he flicked his wand to send his clothes soaring into the open trunk at the foot of his bed. 

“Not to worry. You'll have your home free to bring your little boy toy round again before you know it.”

That was the final straw. With my clenching fist, his trunk snapped closed, startling Draco into silence. He spun around to face me again, challenge still shining in his eyes. 

“You think Marcus is what I want? A pathetic, clinging child?” My voice was low and my strides even as I crossed the room to stand before Draco, glowering. “I'd be bored senseless within a week, you git.”

Draco swallowed, nervous even as he lifted his chin defiantly, the brightness in his eyes dimming to confusion. And I reveled in it. 

“You thought I was complaining because I don't want you here? Come now, Draco. You're smarter than that.” Ducking my head, I trailed my lips down the long line of his neck, hoping against hope he wouldn't push me away. 

But he sighed, dropping his head back as his hands scrambled to find purchase in the waist of my jumper. I closed my teeth over his pulse point briefly, dragging the across the skin as it vibrated with his groan. 

“I was complaining because you're so bloody close and I couldn't touch you,” I growled, tracing the shell of his ear with my tongue, my hands growing stiff at my sides from keeping them to myself. “Don't go, Draco. Stay. Let me touch you…”

“Fuck,” he sighed, draping one long arm over my shoulders. “Fuck, yes. Touch me.”

-

“Harry?” 

Jolting, Harry shook his head to clear his thoughts before turning back to the precocious ten-year-old opposite him in the basement kitchen of Number 12 Grimmauld Place. “Sorry, where was I?” 

“Draco said you were complaining about him to your friends. Were you?” Teddy watched him expectantly, his teal hair wild about his face and jam sticking to his top lip.

“Sort of,” Harry chuckled. “I had a bit of a crush on him and it was difficult, living with him without telling him about it. Anyway, I told him he'd misunderstood and that he was the bloke I fancied, not Marcus, and the rest is history.”

The gentle sway of his body suggested Teddy was swinging his slipper-clad feet beneath the table as he munched thoughtfully on his toast. Harry sipped his coffee, waiting for the verdict. 

At long last, Teddy shrugged. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Harry asked hesitantly. 

“You can marry him. Can I see the ring?” 

Grinning, Harry dug the small velvet box from his pocket and gestured for Teddy to come around the table. “Have to be quick, he'll be up any minute.”

[adultfansofonedirection]

25 Times Harry Styles Was A Little Shit

The 8-12 raccoons disguised in a trench coat and pretending to run a  functioning website ( @staff ) decided to delete one of our most popular posts, an ode to Harry Styles being a little shit for his 22nd Birthday without preamble or reason. Well you can’t keep a good bitch down just like you can’t stop Harry Styles from being a Little Shit so I’m remaking this post ANEW, FRESH FROM THE ASHES IT RISES TO BRING MIRTH AND MERRIMENT TO HARRY STYLES AND ALL OF YE ON THIS, HIS 25TH BIRTHDAY WE BEGIN...

...At the beginning. 

1) Harry is but wee, but his penchant for mischief is already honed:

The problem we have here, friends, is that from a young age he learned he could annoy everyone to the point of breaking but that he was cute enough that no one was ever actually mad at him. 

Harry that’s for the flight attendants and the passengers’ safety...ok fine one more knock-knock joke...

2) We’re jumping ahead to a more fully formed Harry as he fully embraced being a Little Shit on the OTRA tour. I mean...

You know exactly what you’re doing Harold. HAROLD.

3) Being a little shit, knowing we were all DYING to see the thigh tattoo, he chooses the teeniest-tiniest red shorts imaginable and dares to even look sexy playing DODGE BALL

4) wHO on EaRTh and gave this immortal alien being the cause to be such a little fucking shit getting a tattoo on live television and react to it thusly! >>>

HOW DARE YOU SIR? SIR! sir my eyes...

5) As Harry grew to bedevil and bewitch and be the pest everyone loves, Niall was caught in his path but ever his willing victim. Poor Niall...

But also lucky, lucky Niall...

6) When Harry went solo, he needed a new love of his life to harass constantly on stage...enter long-suffering stoic Mitch. The perfect foil to all of Harry’s little shittery

(Author’s Note: the above is in the author’s top ten of favorite harry photos of all time. it is his entire essence distilled.)

7) BEFORE SNL WITH THIS LIL CHERUB FACE BUT WE KNOW THE DEMON WITHIN you guys he literally sent kiwis out to the crowds waiting to get in and then played Ever Since New York like...wtf what a little shit

8) HE MIGHT ALSO LOOK SWEET HERE BUT AGAIN: THE DEMON INSIDE HIM LIES IN WAIT

9) the gall to be such a little shit and be like ‘oh the world thinks i’m sexy rockstar who reminds them of Mick Jagger but what they don’t know is that i’m also a huge dork who just wants to make people laugh”

10) The best, dumbest sketch and the true lasting melody of “oh-OH! OH-oh OH PARTY AT MY PARENTS HOUSE” is such a power play:

11) When this just...absolute...little...shit deciding that he would try his hand at acting and his first role would be in a Christopher Nolan war epic that was NOMINATED FOR MANY MANY AWARDS

I will make Christopher Nolan pay for making MY SON cry.

12) We’re not going chronologically but this is my masterpost so NEXT IS WHEN HE CUT HIS SIGNATURE LONG CURLS BY POSTING THIS PHOTO with just the caption “Whoops.”

13) i can’t...i don’t...just this

14) that one time he took his girlfriends fur (or ostrich feather, i can’t tell) coat and had a jokey little strop on the street holding to-go bags

15) Tour Harry when he’s annoyed because he knows he can absolutely take the shit out of his fans but we all know he’s kidding and it’s such a give and take my god i hate him but also in that i cannot. Please welcome Grand Master Sass

16) In the same photo shoot providing us with the likes of THIS

AND this!???!? why?!??! BOTH?! OH the dualitY OF MAN

17) Pink suit. This look. Sting. STING. Curls. WITH STING.

18) He wore leather pants exactly ONCE and it was to board a plane and NEVER again

19) Prancing. Wearing the world’s finest of suits and clothes and for thousands of people PRANCING for all he’s worth

20) He took his most rock n’ roll, fan favorite song that is sexy and gritty and a little weird and gave us...a video with puppies, children cake...and this fucking SMIRK

21) Speaking of Kiwi...let’s talk about the absolute SHIT creating a signature pose for his signature song

22) The tweet that sparked the original post. This moment is PEAK and still may top them all in terms of being the biggest Little Shit that ever shat

23) The man’s love affair with a Gucci suit and frankly all floral prints and inspiring an entire fandom to be a little bolder and a little braver in what we wear as long as we feel we can touch a little of his stardust when we wear things that remind of us him:

24) This Little Shit actually went on two world-wide tours within a year all with one album and this Little Shit did his actual best to keep prices on the tickets low so fans could actually see him and he’s one of the most well-known pop-stars in the world and would you believe this absolute Little Shit. Oh and he sold buttons with his toddler face on them as merch:

25) Finally, finally, finally he’s such a GODDAMN LITTLE SHIT HE IS KING OF THE LITTLE SHITS AND I COULD NOT POSSIBLY LOVE ANY MAN MORE THAN THIS ONE RIGHT HERE and how much he loves to make an entrance, vamp, and get all your love and give it right back. Happy birthday, to the one and only Lord Dame Sir Harold Elizabeth Styles. I’ll love you to Jeremy Bearimy and back.

[ringosroger]

loyalty [part three]

warnings — children and alcohol/drinking

During times like these you missed the bachelorette life. In your early twenties, young, dumb and free and no care in the world. Instead you found yourself pushing thirty, riding shotgun in your husband’s car – who wasn’t really your husband at the moment – with your two screaming children sat behind you.

Zoë was still in a strop from earlier and her noticing you were miffed with her didn’t help. Leo decided to copy Zoë’s bad mood which had him screeching in the car for ten minutes. You loved your kids, you really did but how could two little beings be so annoying? It defied the laws of everything.

“Zoë, if you don’t stop crying we won’t go to Uncle Freddie’s house,” you told her.

“No!” Zoë screamed and flailed her legs about. You’d been on the receiving end of her feet kicking the back of your chair and that had better not happen today.

“Keep screaming like that and Daddy will turn this car around,” you warned her. “It’s your choice. I’m counting down from five and I don’t want to hear any sound from you when I get to one.”

You were smug – you wouldn’t have to get to one and it was very, very rare that you did. Zoë would stop at two and sniffle for about five minutes. Counting down, you were satisfied when Zoë stopped at two. She would no doubt be giving you evils for the rest of the trip but it was worth it. With her calming down, Leo started to as well. That boy copied everything his sister did.

Now you had to face the awkwardness of sitting in the front seat with Roger. At least you were only ten minutes away but it felt like a lifetime. Roger hadn’t spoken a word and you didn’t know if it was for your sake or because he wasn’t sure of what to say. It was probably the first reason but he’d been walking on eggshells around you. Like you were the one that hurt him.

“Freddie’s been asking about you non-stop,” Roger said, in an attempt to break the awkward silence. “Everyone has.”

You didn’t know what to say to that. Your number nor your address changed. Then again, you could’ve contacted them too but what would you have said? You might not be that comfortable around Roger but you were around his friends. At one point they were your friends too. You’d like to think they still were. You’d thought of Roger’s bandmates as your brothers. Splitting up with Roger felt like you’d split up with them too.

“Oh.” Faking a smile, you’d hoped Roger didn’t realise it was fake. He did. “That’s nice.”

You weren’t sure if that was his way of trying to make you feel better but your overthinking made it worse. Looking in the rearview mirror you saw Zoë still giving you a dirty look. Deciding to annoy her one last time, you gave her a big grin.

All the annoyance was forgotten when Roger pulled up into Freddie’s driveway. Zoë’s face lit up so fast you couldn’t even tell she was angry mere seconds ago.

“Uncle Freddie!” Zoë cheered.

Leo didn’t have any idea what was going on but seeing his sister in such a frenzy had him excited too.

The car stopped and you and Roger got your children out. Freddie lived in a very big house, bigger than any house you’d ever seen or been in. He was always extravagant and a big believer in “if you’ve got it, flaunt it”.

“Hello darlings!”

You didn’t even have time to knock. No doubt Freddie was peeping through the windows and saw the car pull in.

“Uncle Freddie!” Zoë screeched, jumping into her uncle’s arms. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, my dear Zoë.” Freddie gave Zoë a big kiss on her cheek which had her erupting with laughter.

She seemed the happiest she’d been in a long time and that hurt. You’d never meant for any of this to affect your children but you had no say in that. All you could do was try to make your children as happy as they could be. But you felt like you couldn’t even do that right.

Freddie and Roger exchanged their hellos once you were all inside. Leo seemed enchanted by Freddie’s mansion, as he always was, and you were hoping the cats weren’t around. You’d seem them sooner or later but you hoped Leo didn’t. He was still getting used to all of the cats.

“I missed you too,” Freddie told you, Zoë still perched into his side. “We all did.”

“I missed you too,” you said. Truthfully, you did miss seeing Freddie. You’d missed his jokes, his eccentricities and everything about him. You wished you hadn’t left it all on bad terms.

“How are you holding up?” Freddie asked. “Are you alright?”

You were far from alright. You were far from anything good and everyone knew you weren’t fairing well. Your whole life was in shambles and you were still trying to process everything. Today was for the kids though and you were going to try to enjoy yourself and forget how unhappy you were.

“I’m fine,” you lied and you knew Freddie saw right through it. You weren’t a good liar anyway. “How are you doing? Your new house is lovely.”

“It is, isn’t it?” Freddie agreed, looking around. “I thought it was time for a change of scenery.”

Hearing chatter around the corner, you were confused and held Leo tighter to you. Wasn’t it only supposed to be Freddie in the house? Who else could be there?

“Oh yes, the rest of the boys and the wives are here. Some other friends are here too,” Freddie told you. “I thought I’d invite everyone around. Mary hasn’t seen you in ages. You’re the talk of the town really – everyone’s asking for you.”

How the bloody hell were you going to handle all of that? Anyhow Roger knew about it all, he was not going to have a pleasant car ride home. You’d make sure of that.

“It would be lovely to see everyone.”

Like fuck it would. The last thing you needed was everyone’s pitying stares and that’s what you got when you walked into the room. It was silent, for a brief second, before everyone started pretending to chat again. Roger didn’t look your way not once and you knew he had something to do with it.

John called your name excitedly and waved you over.

“It feels like forever,” he said, hugging you. “How have you been?”

Did anyone really want to know how you’ve been? It was such a repetitive question that it was starting to lose its meaning.

“Taking it day by day,” you answered honestly. “I’ve got the kids to keep me company.”

“That you do,” he agreed, smiling at Leo. “Remember me? I’m your Uncle John.”

“John,” Leo repeated.

“Ah!” John cheered. “You do remember me! I knew you would.”

He was a natural around children and had a few of his own to practice with. John had a reputation of being shy and quiet but you’d known him as anything but. He really could be the life of the party when he wanted.

“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten about me now!” Brian appeared by your side. “It’s been too long.”

You hugged him, a smile on your face. You hadn’t realised how much you’d missed them until you saw them again. It seemed so long ago that you’d be all palling around like that everyday. You tried not to think how they must’ve been laughing and smiling with whatever woman Roger decided to bring around them. That woman was you, for now, and you were going to enjoy it.

Brian looked like he wanted to ask you how you’d been but decided against it. He’d heard Freddie and John ask you and didn’t want to irritate you further. You deserved to have fun today and he didn’t want to prod you with questions you didn’t want to answer.

“How’s little Leo getting on?” Brian asked. “Zoë’s having a ball with the rest of the kids in the next room.”

Freddie was very attentive when it came to gatherings and would always have somewhere for the children to go. It was for the best, considering how wild it could get sometimes. Hopefully it wouldn’t be like that today.

“He’s alright,” you answered, Leo still snuggled in your side. You hoped he wouldn’t nap now because it would be hell getting him into bed later.

Brian gave Leo a big smile and you could faintly feel Leo smiling back on the side of your chest. He still remembered them and you didn’t want that change. Even if your relationship changed with the band, you didn’t want that for the kids and luckily that wasn’t going to happen.

“Leo’s fallen asleep,” Brian told you.

“What?” You couldn’t even peek down to see. Leo was a heavy sleeper and there was no waking him up once he was down. You sighed, mentally preparing for a messed up sleep schedule once again.

“Roger!” John called. “Leo’s fallen asleep, put him down in one of Freddie’s rooms.”

“I’m right here. I could do it,” you offered.

“You aren’t getting out of this easily,” John told you. “We haven’t seen you in a while.”

Who knows when you’d see each other next?There was no choice for you in the scenario, so you gave Leo to Roger. Barely even acknowledging you, Roger took Leo to bed.

“Here you go.” Brian handed you a glass of champagne.

Ignoring John’s comment of “You look like you need it”, you downed it. You did need that. When was the last time you’d sat down and had a good drink? When was the last time you’d ever just sat down and relaxed?

“I think I’ll have another one,” you spoke to no one in particular and took a second glass to drink.

Looking around, you wondered where John and Brian’s wives were. Mary was supposed to be here too but you hadn’t seen her either. It was an intimate gathering but still rather busy.

You heard an excited squeal and your name being called out. Mary.

“Mary!” You hugged her. “It’s been too long.”

Knowing they’d hear nothing they wanted to, John and Brian dismissed themselves.

“You look so good,” Mary complimented you. “It really has been too long, I’ve missed seeing you.”

You sighed, not wanting to be emotional but not being able to shake off the bittersweet feeling you had. “I missed you too. What have you been up to?”

For once you wanted to hear about someone else, rather than them pitifully asking you how you were.

“Oh, really I don’t get up to much these days,” Mary said. “I don’t have the strength for all the parties and whatnot anymore. It’s never really been my scene.”

You nodded, knowing Mary’s more content at home with friends rather than a big party with people she didn’t know. You wished you were more like that but you’d never really been one to not party up until recently.

“How are you holding up?” Mary asked. “I know that’s not what you want to hear right now but I just wanted to know you’re okay.”

“As alright as a woman with a cheating husband can be,” you laughed bitterly. “I don’t know how to feel. I’m... I’m not sure if I’m okay yet.”

“Roger’s not fairing well either,” Mary told you. “He acts like he doesn’t care but he does. Those women are just for show. He talks about you all the time. Even with those women on his arm, he’ll talk about you like they’re not there.”

Deep down, you knew Mary was right but you still felt unsure. If you were that important to Roger, why didn’t he show it? It seemed like everyone knew Roger loved you but you. Why didn’t he treat you like he treated those women? They’d gotten nothing but lust and love while you got heartbreak.

“It’s too late for us,” you told her. “I’m not sure I’ll ever get back with Roger. I don’t know if I can at the moment.”

Mary nodded. “Well, whatever happens, you’ve always got us. I mean it. I should’ve reached out more, we all should’ve.”

“You’ve got your own lives,” you said. “It’s fine.”

No, nothing was fine, not now. But if you kept repeating that then maybe everything would turn out fine.

Looking over, you spotted Chrissie and Veronica. You hadn’t seen them in a while and the three of you were always huddled together at all the parties. They were the two people who really understood what it was like being the wife of a Queen member. But they were still loving wives and you were nothing but a mere ex.

Mary waved them over and all four of them were nothing but smiles. You thought you’d feel relief and happiness seeing them but your heart ached. You tried to control your emotions as you looked down at the rings on their fingers. Yours was achingly bare, much like how you felt on the inside. You’d hoped none of them had to go through anything like that.

They were living the life you thought you’d never give up. They still had their husbands coming home to them, kissing them, making love to them and asking how their day was. You were coming home to an empty bed and no one to hold you at night. You envied what they had and knew you always would.

You cleared your throat. “Sorry, I’m just going to go for a smoke.”

You stopped mostly after becoming a mother but sometimes you couldn’t help yourself. You’d always have a spare pack with you and during that moment, you were glad you had it. It wasn’t the best coping mechanism but it helped. On your way out, you spotted a bottle of champagne on the table near the door. You took it and left the house. You sat on the stoop out front and lit your cigarette.

Chrissie and Veronica were your friends and you cared for them dearly. You made a mental note to apologise later – you didn’t want to come off as mean or anything and you hoped they understood.

God, not being around Roger was so hard. Not being around him and knowing all of those women were keeping him company was worse. So much worse. He didn’t even let the bed get cold. He probably slept with other women in your bed. Why did he have to do that to you? You tried your best to not think about it but it couldn’t leave your mind. There wasn’t a day that went by where you didn’t think of it.

Opening the bottle of champagne, you took long swigs of it which quickly went to your head. You forgot to take in account the two glasses you’d had previously.

“What are you doing out here alone?”

You couldn’t get away from Roger if you tried.

“It’s cold,” Roger continued, putting his jacket around you.

It was cold and you weren’t dumb enough to refuse his jacket because you wanted to be petty.

“I know,” you said, not turning to meet his face.

“I thought you quit smoking.” Roger didn’t want to end the conversation.

He hadn’t had time alone with you in a while and he wasn’t going to pass up the chance. Even if he knew you were mad and the conversation would most likely go south.

“Yeah well, I picked it back up again.” Cigarette smoke billowed from your mouth as you exhaled.

“I am sorry, you know,” Roger said.

You sighed, putting out your cigarette. “Not now, please.”

“I know it doesn’t seem like it but I do care about you. I still love you and that’s not going to change,” Roger told you.

“If you really love me like you say you do, you wouldn’t have cheated. If you really love someone cheating isn’t an option,” you stated. “Clearly you must not have loved me at all.”

“I do,” insisted Roger. “I do. You don’t know how I feel when I see all my friends with their wives and I’m just there on my own.”

“Yes I do know,” you disagreed, finally turning to stare at him. “I know what it’s like to watch your friends be in love and for me to be standing there all alone. It’s your fault we’re in this situation. Everything’s your fault.”

You didn’t want to be so harsh on Roger but it was like word vomit. You just wanted him to feel what you were feeling. He acted like he was fine and everything was okay and you just wanted to see him break. You wanted to see him breaking like you were.

“Do you know how much it hurts when Zoë asks me why you aren’t around anymore? She’s heartbroken and confused and she’s got all these questions,” you cried. “Leo cries for you too and I don’t know how to tell them why you aren’t there. If you didn’t fuck up, none of this would’ve happened.”

“I’m s-.”

“No!” You shouted, pointing a finger at him accusingly. “Don’t tell me you’re sorry because you’re not. You can’t be. I miss you so fucking much. All I want is for you to hold me and tell me everything’s going to be okay but you can’t, can you? It’s never going to be the same again. You did that.”

Seeing Roger was like your heart was breaking all over again. You didn’t think it could be possible for your heart to shatter anymore but it was. How could a life so perfect take such little time to come crashing down?

You sniffled, unable to hold back your tears. “Why did you do this to me?”

“I... I don’t know,” Roger replied honestly. He didn’t know why he cheated. He couldn’t tell you why he did it but he could tell you he regretted it.

“You can’t hurt someone the way you hurt me and say you don’t know,” you sobbed. “You can’t! I hate you, Roger! I hate you!”

Roger embraced you in his arms and you didn’t have the strength to shrug him off. As much as you said it, Roger didn’t believe you hated him. He knew whether two of you got back together or not that you would always love him.

After everything he did, you still loved him. It was strange and he didn’t know why, but you did. He didn’t deserve you or your love but he was unwilling to let it all go. You not being in his life and not being his wife wasn’t an option. He wanted to ease your pain and make everything okay but he couldn’t help but feel he was making everything worse. He had to be the reason for your happiness again.

“I can’t say or do anything for you to forgive me,” Roger spoke. “That comes only in time and I hope it happens because I still love you. You’re the only woman I want.”

You laughed coldly, removing yourself from his arms. “No, I’m not.”

“You are,” Roger insisted. “You’re the mother of my kids, my wife. You’re the love of my life. It shouldn’t have taken all of this to make me realise how much I love you and need you.”

He had a point there and now your emotions were all over the place. Roger had a way of charming people and you were no exception.

“Roger, don’t do this to me,” you pleaded. “You had your chance.”

“So this is it?”

You’d never heard Roger sound so defeated and broken. He’d hurt you so much but you couldn’t help feeling bad. Why, you didn’t know. You were waiting for that moment where he was hurt. Now you had it, you didn’t feel good. If anything you felt worse. Seeing Roger hurt was the last thing you wanted now.

“I don’t want to talk about this now,” you told Roger. “Not here.”

Roger held his arms out in annoyance. “Now’s a good time as any.”

“Our friends are in there and you’re embarrassing us,” You hissed. “You’ve done enough of that as it is.”

“I just want you again,” Roger admitted. “I miss you and I know that you miss me too. You can’t lie and say you don’t.”

You couldn’t. You missed him more than anything.

“The more time you have away from me is more time for you to realise that you don’t need me anymore. That you never did need me,” he continued, “and I might be a selfish dick for saying this but I don’t want that. I want you to want me. The way I want you.”

Didn’t he already know you did?

“I want you back in my arms and in my life,” Roger carried on. “I just want you. No, I need you. I need you.”

Without thinking, you wrapped your arms around Roger’s shoulders and kissed him.

tags — @celebsimagines @hiken-no-stark @darkwolfpeanutskeleton @langdonzvoid @ziggysstarrdust @itsametaphorbriansblog @twistingrealityagain @int0-you @stardvstial @x1975sos @mavieesttriste16 @sweet- -catrastrophe

[blu-joons]

DATING BTS HEADCANON A⇴Z ⇴ Park Jimin

A ⇴ AFFECTION

Jimin is incredibly affectionate towards you, hugs are his absolute favourite, he loves to wrap his arms around you and feel your body pressed against his. He will always have some sort of hold on your body, making sure you’re nice and close.

B ⇴ BEFORE DATING

You were never sure if Jimin liked you or not before you started dating. Naturally, he’s a flirty character, so you thought it was his way of just being friendly. But as he got to know you, he found himself falling for you. Whilst you weren’t sure, he knew, and the boys could see it too. This wasn’t just him being his usual flirty self, they could see something different, a spark in his eyes.

C ⇴ CONFESSION

When it came to confessing his feelings, he was incredibly nervous. His usual confident self had disappeared. He confessed one night when the two of you were alone at the dorm, spending time with each other. You were shocked that he actually liked you, and whilst momentarily, he was terrified that you didn’t feel the same way, but you quickly told him you did, as his nerves were brushed aside, replaced by his usual chirpy self once more.

D ⇴ DATES

He’s a proper romantic when it comes to dates, at least once a week the two of you will put a night aside to be together. Usually, he books a nice restaurant, or takes you on a walk, simple things, that he can put a lot of thought into. For special occasions, he would spend the whole day whisking you off your feet, dedicating every second to you. Throughout your dates, he’d make sure his phone was turned off, and you were in an environment where you couldn’t be disturbed, so his full attention could be on you the entire time.

E ⇴ EXPERIENCE

He’d had a few casual flings in his time, but you were his first proper relationship. For the first time, with you, he felt like he’d found someone he could see spending the rest of his life with. Dating an idol wasn’t easy, and usually girls had left him when things had become too much, but you, you stuck around, because he was worth it. Unlike other relationships, he felt secure, he trusted you, and he knew that you were always honest with him. There were doubters, but in his heart, he knew being with you was different, he could make it work.

F ⇴ FIGHTING

The two of you had your fair share of squabbles, if Jimin didn’t get his way, he’d often have a little go at you until he got what you wanted. The two of you never argued over anything serious, you were good at solving issues before they surfaced. Also, you knew how damaging arguments were on him mentally, he didn’t take well to shouting and getting angry, so you’d always try your hardest to calm any situation down before it amounted into anything, making sure that he was your priority to be taken care of. An argument would never linger, he wouldn’t be able to do anything whilst the two of you were still an argument either.

G ⇴ GETTING TO KNOW HIS FAMILY

You were most nervous about meeting his father, as you knew how close the two of them were. They knew he was flirty, but they couldn’t wait to meet the girl who had stolen their precious boy’s heart. Instantly, you were welcomed into the family, they loved to joke and laugh almost as much as Jimin did, putting you straight to ease.

H ⇴ HOME

At times, he couldn’t wait to leave the dorm and move in with you. He waited a couple of years, for when he had more time at home, before buying an apartment with you. He went big, he wanted to spoil you, after all you put up with, whilst also knowing the boys would be over for sleepovers most nights anyway.

I ⇴ “I LOVE YOU”

He was the first to say those three special words. It was off the cusp, as you stayed up most of the night waiting for him to come home from the studio with a plate of food. It was a small gesture, and something you’d done several times, but there was something that night that just melted his heart when he found you there, greeting you with those three little words as you pulled him into a hug.

J ⇴ JEALOUSY

There were plenty of times when he’d get jealous, but you’d get jealous too when he got a bit flirty around other people. It was harmless, but he suffered worse with it. He was incredibly protective of you, even if the boys got too close sometimes, he would step in and tell them to back off. There was no way he was going to let anyone near his girl, with a tight arm around you, it was easy for you to figure out when he was feeling jealous, as he’d never leave your side. He’d be needy and whiny until you were comfortably back at home.

K ⇴ KIDS

Having children was a huge dream of Jimin’s, meeting kids at meet and greets and events was one of his favourite things in the world. For a while, he’d questioned if he’d ever found the right girl to settle down with, but with you, he knew he’d found it. You were maternal anyway, looking after him and the boys, so he quickly pictured the two of you with your own family one day. He was confident too that the two of you would make beautiful babies.

L ⇴ LAUGHTER

His laugh was one of the first things that caught your attention, the strong cackle in the room could always be heard. Some days it was hard to press a laugh out of him, but you always managed it, with a joke or a smile, it would pick him back up. He could always make you laugh too, at times it felt like you were dating a big kid, he’d run around or make a funny noise, and that was enough to make you throw your head back and start giggling. Sometimes, the two of you wouldn’t even know what you were laughing about, in fits of giggles together.

M ⇴ MISSING

Homesickness was something Jimin really struggled with when being with you. He’d worry constantly if you were doing alright or if something had happened. Waking up every morning to an empty bed sucked, eventually he started bringing one of your old teddies on tour with him to cuddle with. Every day, without fail he’d text you, and be in a massive strop until he got a text back from you, so he knew you were doing alright. He’d send you presents too when he was on tour, so you had little things around the house to remind you of him and help bring you comfort when you struggled with hard days too.

N ⇴ NICKNAMES

Pet names were something the two of you were big on, he was your little ‘sweetheart,’ whilst you were simply his ‘love.’ You never called him by his name too, if you called him Jimin, he knew he was in trouble or had done something wrong.

O ⇴ OBSESSION

He was obsessed with every part of you, he just loved to be able to wrap his arms around your body, it was impossible for him to pick just one feature of yours that he preferred over any others.

P ⇴ PDA

He wasn’t afraid of PDA, but he certainly wouldn’t rub it in people’s faces that he was in a relationship. He liked to hold you quite a lot, but everyone knew that Jimin was a cuddly person regardless. During V Lives especially, he would always talk about you, and he loved to have you feature in them so he could show you off to the world.

Q ⇴ QUESTIONS

He loved to ask questions, not just about you, but the world. He loved to have discussions with you about anything random, just so he could listen to your voice, seeing how passionate you were about different topics.

R ⇴ RANDOM FACTS

One thing Jimin never did around you, was dance. He always got super shy and embarrassed when you asked him to dance for you, he’d never be able to do it. On stage, he would happily dance, even if you were in the audience, if he was in the studio, and the boys were with him, he’d happily dance too. But when it was just you and him in a room, he couldn’t do it, he’d blush and go weak at the knees, opting to cuddle you instead.

S ⇴ SEX

Passionate is the perfect adjective to describe sex with Jimin. He may be small, but boy is he mighty! He loves to dominate and make you feel loved, he loves to guide your hands, specifically through his hair. His arms would always be around you, holding you as close to him as possible. If you weren’t in the mood, he’d understand, but with charisma like his, it was almost impossible for him not to able to put you in the mood.

T ⇴ TEXTS

He’d text you constantly whenever he had a free second, even now, he still gets a buzz every time a text from you comes in, instantly replying so he can eagerly anticipate the next message you’re going to send to him.

U ⇴ UNIVERSE

Everything in Jimin’s world was much more positive with you in it. Through the toughest of times you’d been there to help put a smile back on his face, and often be the shoulder that he needed to cry on in order to make himself feel better again.

V ⇴ VACATION

Holidays were rare, which is why Jimin always tried to make them as special as possible. Your busy schedule meant you often couldn’t be a part of the tour, but when he was home, he’d take at least a week away from the band in order to travel with you, and give you the time and love that you needed for all you sacrificed.

W ⇴ WHINING

No one you knew whined more than Jimin, if things didn’t go his way, or he wanted your attention, he’d sit and scream out your name until he got his own way.

X ⇴ XXXXX

With plump lips, kisses from Jimin always made you smile. Whenever he was cuddling you, he’d always trail kisses along your neck and shoulder, smiling against your skin. When he wanted something more from you, he was incredibly passionate, long, heated kisses were how he stole your heart, slipping his tongue into the kiss if he felt playful. Kisses were his way of constantly making you feel loved and secure in your relationship.

Y ⇴ YOU

You were his rock; he could face the world with you by his side.

Z ⇴ ZZZ

He hated sleeping without you, he loved to have you cuddle up against you whilst he slept, being able to rest his head on top of yours and smell the strong scent of your shampoo, soothing him into a deep sleep.

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Masterlist